Wet, Hot American Dream
Pairing: John Walker x fem!reader x Bob Reynolds
Summary: After a wild night of drinking, you wake up in a hotel room to find yourself in bed with your boyfriend, John...and your good friend Bob. You try and put together the pieces of what led up to that moment.
Warnings: alcohol, implied drunk sex, reader is implied to be shorter than Bob and John, hints at John's praise kink 🤭, that's about it
Word Count: 5.9k (Holy shit 🤯🫠)
Tagging: @aeleeeee @gonzo-induced-gender-crisis @oghotonghoton-potiushi @calzone-d @avasmultifandoms
A/N: Another songfic from yours truly! (I know, I know, but this idea refused to get out of my head.) I can't believe I got so much out of this little song that I'm now obsessed with 🙂↕️ Also happy birthday Wyatt Russell 🥳
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A piercing headache jolted you awake from your apparently deep sleep. You let out a groan and rubbed your eyes, hoping to alleviate at least a little bit of the throbbing that plagued you. If you'd dreamt at all last night, none of it had stayed in your mind long enough to remember for even the few seconds before you were fully awake. And, to make matters worse, your entire body was sore. All the pieces of exactly what had occurred the night before were extremely fuzzy, if not entirely blank.
As if to add to your mysterious predicament, something warm was pressed against you, keeping you trapped in place. Your first instinct was to tense up and remove yourself from whatever was restraining you...until you looked over and noted the familiar mass of your boyfriend's body curled possessively against your side. Thick bedsheets with a high thread count covered both of your bodies, cool against every inch of your completely bare skin that could be reached.
You relaxed in John's grip, relieved to have solved at least part of the mystery. A night of passion spent between bedsheets was far from a new development for the two of you. Going back from before the early days of your relationship, you had initiated the habit of sneaking around with him after a mission as if you were a pair of teenagers. It had begun as a quick way to satisfy each other's desires, but had eventually morphed into something far deeper than either of you had expected. Even given the gratuitous amount of space available in the Watchtower, the two of you had been far from subtle, and the entire team had soon become aware of your relationship.
In the middle of your reminiscence, you caught another bout of movement at your other side. Your gaze shifted, causing you to let out a soft gasp. There was another man in bed with you, in an equal state of undress as you and John. You caught the briefest glimpse of messy brunette hair resting on the pillow, along with a lean frame hidden beneath the sheets, and immediately knew who it was. Somehow, in the middle of the night, you had become entangled in between your boyfriend...and your good friend Bob.
In an effort not to disturb either of the still sleeping men, you carefully lifted John's arm from around you. Once you had extricated yourself from the tangled mess your bodies had somehow made during the night, you tiptoed across the hotel room floor. As you did, more missing pieces of the puzzle fell into place. Clothes were strewn all across the floor, placed in such a way that you had to step over or around them to get by. You reached for the nearest article of clothing, which just so happened to be John's discarded shirt.
After slipping into the shirt, you made your way into the adjoining bathroom. You headed straight for the full-length mirror behind the door and snuck a peek at yourself, briefly wondering what you would find. John’s plain white T-shirt was large enough on you to make you appear at least somewhat decent…except for the beginnings of an angry mark reminiscent of a bruise that dotted your collarbone. When you pulled the collar of his shirt to the side, you noted a series of similarly coordinated marks that dotted your skin. You didn't need to check any further to know that you were completely covered in them.
Having seen more than enough, you ventured back out into the hotel room. Still combating the insistent, throbbing headache, you took another look around. You’d had answers enough already to discern what had happened…but how had it all come about?
And that was when you saw it. Empty plastic cups that had once been filled with alcohol littered the floor, mostly condensed around the small table that had been pulled into the center of the room. Some of the cups had likely been knocked over or even fallen on their own at some point during the night. And in the center of it all lay two empty bottles that had once been full of liquor.
You walked over to the window, pulling the thick curtains open to let in the bright morning sunlight. It caused you to squint until your eyes adjusted to the sensation. Birds greeted the new day with cheerful chirps from somewhere outside your window. Below you, the city was already bustling as millions of people went about their day, unaware of the presence of three New Avengers in their midst.
You slumped down in the comfortable reading chair by the window and let your eyes fall closed. It was the only thing you could think of that might help you to recall exactly what had happened last night, potentially alleviating your headache to boot. And sure enough, images soon came flooding back into your mind.
It all began with a drink, because the best and worst things in life always did.
You sat in the common area of the Watchtower, trying to savor your glass of cold, refreshing lemonade. Everyone had been constantly complaining about the summer heat, which was unbearable especially for the normally mild climate of Manhattan. No amount of ice in your drink or cool early evening air could stop the sweat that seemed stubbornly stuck to your skin. It felt as if the sweltering heat would never break.
"I need a drink," you complained, leaning back in your seat and attempting to wipe the sweat from your brow.
Seated in the private nook that he had claimed for himself, Bob looked up from the book he was reading. He seemed more bothered by your sudden interruption than the current state of the weather. "You have one already," he pointed out astutely.
"No, I mean, more like...a Sex On The Beach," you clarified. You had convinced yourself that your incessant craving for the sweet drink would serve as a contrast to the relentless heat. Whether or not that proved to be true remained to be seen.
At last, Bob marked the page he was reading and set his book down on the table. He sent you a seemingly innocent, curious glance. "Why are you asking me? Ask your boyfriend."
"Um...what?" you spluttered.
He responded with a boyish grin, the kind you had become overtly familiar with in all the time you'd known him. "I'm just messing with you."
"Oh." You allowed yourself a light laugh, though it would only enable him to indulge further in his antics. "I see. Good one."
The rest of the team had relentlessly teased you about your relationship with John after they had first found out that the two of you had decided to officially become a couple. You had gotten used to the teasing long ago, accepting it for the harmless fun that it was. And now, even Bob had been getting more comfortable participating in the jokes.
"So, you're heading out to the bar soon?" your friend asked, making another attempt at conversation.
"Yeah." You pulled out your phone and checked the time. "If John doesn't get back in, like...ten minutes, I'm leaving without him."
Your boyfriend had been gracious enough to run errands for the rest of the team while they were away on the latest mission. The two of you had opted to stay behind and keep Bob company for once. You'd established a rotating schedule so that he would never truly be alone, ready to spring into action if he ever started to feel as if he made things worse again. This time, though, you and John had an ulterior motive; it was the perfect excuse to plan a date night, a rare reprieve in your line of work.
"I could go with you," Bob suggested.
You shrugged. Whether John returned in time or not, at least you would have your friend to keep you company. "Sure," you decided in the end.
You downed the last few sips of your lemonade, then scampered off to the kitchen to chase it with a glass of ice water. By the time you'd finished your water, the approximate ten minutes you'd allotted your boyfriend had finally passed. Once you were ready to leave, you headed towards the elevator, Bob in tow.
You had nearly reached the entrance of the Watchtower when John appeared at last. The glass doors automatically opened for him, as they had been programmed to do for all of the New Avengers. Your boyfriend's expression was almost smug as he looked between you and Bob. It was as if he had expected to see something like this situation unfold after he came back.
"Trying to steal my girl, Bobby?" he asked playfully.
"What? No, no, we were just..."
You shook your head fondly now that both your favorite men were in the same room again. They had definitively started off on the wrong foot when they'd first met in the vault. Time had remedied that, of course, as they'd worked together with you and the others. And now, countless missions later, they still seemed to relish every opportunity to make each other flustered...especially when it came to you.
"We were just about to leave without you, John," you said, matching your boyfriend's tone. "But you can still join us."
You brought him down to you for a kiss that served as part greeting and part gentle unspoken reassurance. He was well and truly aware of exactly where he stood with you, but it never hurt to remind him of the extent of your affection and desire for him.
Caught up in the moment, you failed to notice the intensity of Bob's gaze as he hung back and observed the way you and John became the center of each other's worlds.
The bar you ended up occupying was one that you and John had frequented several times before. He had suggested this particular bar for its relative ease of access, and you'd gone along with his wishes. After all, it was several subway stops and an entire borough away from the Watchtower back in Manhattan. That was just one of the reasons why you and John had agreed to keep it your little secret...until now.
You decided to stake your claim on a booth in the back, sliding into the seat across from Bob. John had ventured over to the bar to get more drinks, promising you that he would be back shortly. This particular bar was known for providing a special type of alcohol with a secret ingredient that allowed even super soldiers to get drunk. Under the circumstances, you recognized the perfect opportunity to test a theory you had.
You perused the drink menu with extra care, disappointed to find that they didn't carry your drink of choice for the night. When a waitress finally approached your table, you negotiated with her to order a drink custom tailored to your liking. In the end, you were assured that the finished product would be close enough to the one you had been craving.
"I'll have what she's having," Bob decided when it was his turn to order.
You gave him a slight frown. "Are you sure about that?" you asked, once the waitress was out of earshot. There was little chance of your conversation being distinguished among the chatter all around you, but you didn't want to risk anything more than necessary. "It might bring back, you know..."
"I'll be fine," he insisted. "I can control it now." He gave you a fond smile. "Besides, I've got you guys to help me if things start to be...too much."
Soon enough, the waitress brought your drinks to the table. You pulled your makeshift Sex On The Beach closer to your side of the table and slowly sipped at it, allowing the alcohol to seep into your system.
"Hey, Bob," you said after awhile, giving him all of your attention. He had been relatively quiet, which wasn't unusual for him. And yet, something was different about him that you couldn't quite put your finger on. Throughout the night, his gaze had constantly switched between you and John, as if he was privately assessing the two of you for something.
"What's up?" he asked, matching your energy and peering at you over his drink.
"You've been acting weird tonight. What's going on in that pretty head of yours? Got any dirty secrets to share?"
Bob looked at you askance. It was as if he was internally debating the seriousness of your offer, given your current state of mind. "What? Oh, no, I don't know if you want to know all that..."
"Come on," you prompted, encouraged by another sip of your drink. The world had begun to gain a softer edge to it, but you didn't mind. It was the entire reason for your night out, after all. "You should know that I don't kiss and tell."
"Well, uh, okay..." A bright flush tinted your friend's cheeks. He focused on swirling the straw that had come with his drink, as if to give his thoughts time to gather. You knew that the reason for his erratic behavior couldn't be blamed on the alcohol flooding his system, yet you had a hard time pinpointing its source. "We're friends, right?"
"What do you mean?" The hesitant question took you aback. Whatever he had to tell you was clearly serious enough for him to be concerned about potentially ruining your friendship. "Of course we are!"
"So, as your friend, I think you and Walker are really good together."
"Uh huh," you said, prompting him to continue before you took yet another sip of your drink. There was surely more to come, lingering just on the tip of his tongue. You suspected that it wouldn't take much to coax the rest out of him, even if he was still nowhere near drunk yet.
"But it's just...I've got this idea; this fantasy, you know?"
You nodded in encouragement, determined to indulge him, whatever he wanted or needed from you. "Go on..."
Bob suddenly stood up from his seat, leaving his unfinished drink on his side of the table. He slid into the empty spot next to you on your side of the booth. You had reserved it for John, but didn't mind its temporary occupant. "I've been thinking, and..." He stopped stalling, leaned in close to you, and whispered his truth directly into your ear. "What if I want Walker to fuck me while you watch? And then both of us fuck you. At the same time."
You nearly choked on your drink at the bold revelation. Unbeknownst to anyone else except for John, you had conjured up a similar fantasy in your mind. It was the kind of thought you tucked away and saved for those rare instances when you and John were scheduled for separate missions. It fueled your lonely nights until you returned to each other and you could have the real thing once again.
Bob's eyes widened in concern at your silence. He drew back as if, in his point of view, that was proof enough of your rejection. "Sorry; I mean, that is, if you're okay with it? You know, since you're his girlfriend..."
"That's...very bold of you," was all you could think to say.
As you scrambled for a better response to Bob's offer, John's voice drifted towards you from the other end of the bar. You searched for him, easily finding him in the crowd thanks to the fact that you knew every inch of him by heart. He sat at the bar across the room, making small talk with the bartender. No drinks had been placed in front of him yet, but you suspected that that would change very soon.
"So, what do you say?" asked Bob.
You had studied the interactions between the two men, having plenty of opportunity to do so as you went about your lives in the Watchtower. Neither of them had ever explicitly expressed any romantic interest in the other...until now. If you played your cards right, your plan just might work.
You returned your attention to your friend, leaning closer to him and letting the alcohol influence your actions. "Tell you what. You wanna fulfill that fantasy of yours? Let's make it happen tonight."
An hour and a half later, the three of you sat around in the five-star hotel that was several blocks away from the bar. Your room had been procured at the last minute, but not without having to covertly reveal your status as members of the New Avengers. Generally, such practices were frowned upon, but this case had been an absolute emergency. After all, the three of you had already been busy testing the limits of how much liquor you could hold...and you were just getting started.
Your attention drifted towards one of the empty bottles that stood easily within reach. John had eventually obtained the much lauded liquor from the bar, bringing two bottles with him to the next part of your adventure. At your suggestion, he had cautiously set them down on the marble table in the middle of the room. The three of you had soon passed around the first bottle, which had been emptied little by little into the red plastic cups that you had picked up along the way to your destination.
"Let's play spin the bottle," you suggested from out of the blue. There was no point in denying that your words were borderline becoming slurred.
This was enough to capture the attention of both men in the room with you. Almost immediately, you cursed the alcohol for loosening your tongue. It wasn't the worst way you could've gone about executing your plan for the night, but it appeared to be the most effective.
"Are you sure?" asked Bob. He was tentative in his words, and now you knew exactly why. You hardly wanted to betray his earlier confidence in you, but...
"Yeah!" You poured a little too much enthusiasm into your voice, preemptively allowing excitement to rush over you. There was just one thing you needed to address before you began the game. "You might have to kiss him, though," you added, giving your friend a light nudge and inclining your head towards your boyfriend.
"You're okay with that?" John asked, looking between you and Bob with an inquisitive expression.
"I'm okay with it if you are," you repeated, still doing your best to concentrate on not slurring your words. You figured there was only a short window of opportunity to execute your plan.
John hesitated, but in that hesitation you were acutely aware of everything he left unsaid. You had discussed this exact scenario with him before, making him aware of your most private fantasies. There had hardly been a chance to fill him in on your plan for the night, but you were certain that he would be willing to follow your lead, if not take the lead himself.
"Yeah," he said at last. He seemed sure enough of his answer to satisfy you. "I'm okay with it."
With all of you in agreement, your small group shuffled into a circle on the floor. You ended up being flanked on either side by the two men as you sat there, cross-legged. In combat, the formation you had perfected with them always provided you with an extra sense of security. The same held true even in the relative safety of your hotel room.
You set the empty bottle on the carpet in between the three of you and spun it. The motion caused your heart to flutter as the bottle kept spinning, until it settled with the cap pointed definitively towards John. He sent you a grin, as if it was fate that had brought you together.
"C'mere, darlin'," he said. The Southern drawl you adored so much slipped out in his voice. His eyes were on the verge of becoming glassy; you wondered how much the alcohol had already affected him.
You crawled across the floor into his lap and eagerly pressed your lips to his. The honeyed taste of the special alcohol he'd procured lingered on his tongue. It was almost as delectable as your favorite food, something to store away in your memory and savor.
Soon, both of you pulled back for air, reluctantly breaking the kiss. John lifted you from his lap with surprisingly steady, gentle hands. You let out a whine, needing to feel his body against yours.
"My turn," he declared, returning his focus to your impromptu childish game.
He gingerly took hold of the bottle and spun. After several anticipatory moments, it landed not on you as you'd secretly hoped...but on Bob, who had stayed silently in his corner of the room. Still, you allowed a triumphant grin to slip past your lips. At least this part of your devious plan had worked.
"You two," you crowed, pointing a finger between them, "have to kiss now."
The two men in question exchanged an incredulous glance. You couldn't help but notice that both of their cheeks had turned the slightest shade of red.
It was something that had been constantly in the back of your mind, ever since Bob had confided in you back at the bar. You watched him and John as they slowly moved towards each other and began to bend their heads close together. You couldn't deny that they would look good as a couple...and you imagined that they would look even better entangled in the bedsheets with you.
"Just do it already," you reiterated when neither of them had built up the courage to make the first move. In a moment of inspiration, you decided to appeal to your boyfriend. "Come on, baby." When John sent you a glance and you had his full attention, you indicated the man in whose stead you were speaking. "He wants it bad. Told me himself."
"Is that true?"
"Yeah," Bob admitted. His words were accompanied by a tiny smile and nod. "It's true. I've thought about this for awhile."
"You should give him what he wants, John," you suggested. You sent him your best impression of a pleading glance, knowing that it was the quickest way to move things along. "Please? For me?"
"Well, fuck...I can't say no to that."
The two men shuffled even closer to each other, still somewhat hesitant in their movements. You sat back with a smile as their lips finally connected. It was tentative at first as they tested the waters with each other. Then, all of a sudden, they dove in headfirst. The kiss became passionate and intense in a way that made you almost jealous, even though you had been the one to offer up this suggestion.
"Hey, boys! Leave some room for me," you teased, attempting to move forward to insert yourself between them.
They separated after several minutes, as if they had become so absorbed in each other they had almost forgotten that you were there. You sat back again, admiring the way they looked together, and suddenly you understood why Bob had been so quiet all evening. Seeing him with your boyfriend only confirmed your fantasy of how well they would work together to please you.
"Well? Come on, honey," John suggested, his glassy-eyed gaze turning to you. "Get in here."
You crawled across the floor and slipped in between them. In your eager motions, you kicked away the bottle on the floor; it landed beneath the table, your impromptu game long forgotten. Your lips immediately reattached themselves to your boyfriend, throwing all caution to the wind. He allowed you to run your tongue along his mouth, parting his lips for you in a heated display of possessive affection.
Bob suddenly cleared his throat, causing you to separate from your boyfriend. He said your name softly, catching your attention. "I want to kiss you, too," he admitted, once again focused on you.
You sent him a grin. It would be no trouble at all to give him exactly what he wanted. "Okay, loverboy."
You extricated yourself from your boyfriend and turned your attention to your friend. Through the haze of your drunken state, you leaned over and pressed your lips against his. You caught the lingering taste of the liquor that all three of you had partaken of, and you became sure that it would be the only thing you'd ever crave from that point on.
As it turned out, Bob was far more hesitant with his kisses than John...at least when it came to you. It was as if he was still wary of ruining your friendship, when you could easily assure him that that would not be the case at all. Once you fell into a rhythm, though, you could sense his eagerness to move forward as he nipped lightly at your bottom lip. You broke the kiss, knowing that now none of you would be satisfied until you'd finished what you started.
"I liked watchin' you two do that," John admitted through what you suspected was his own drunken haze. You took notice when he discreetly adjusted his pants; it was all the proof you needed that everything you'd done so far had already started to rile him up. "You wanna take this further?"
You returned to your place on the floor, slowly beginning to recover from the intensity of the kisses you had exchanged with both men. A breathless "Yes," escaped from your lips in response to your boyfriend's offer. Even in your drunken state, you were aware of exactly what you were getting into.
"Yeah," Bob echoed. His lips were already kiss-swollen, and you could easily imagine the increasing state of dishevelment that he would experience before the night was over.
All at once, both men were on either side of you, crowding your space. As if they had planned it far in advance of your tryst, they began pressing simultaneous open-mouthed kisses to your neck. And then you felt hot, sweet breath fan against your ear.
"Let us take care of you tonight, honey."
The words only added to the heat you were experiencing anew. This time, it was a far different kind of heat from the sweltering temperature outside. The fact that the coercion had emerged from Bob's lips instead of John's suddenly felt right as rain.
"Yes, please," you responded.
Somewhere along the way, your clothes were discarded, tossed carelessly about the room. It had become far too hot, again, and you were grateful for the cool relief you felt thanks to the hotel's air conditioning. The men sent appreciative glances in your direction, though they made no move towards you, allowing you to decide what would occur next.
You turned to your boyfriend, whose pupils had been blown wide, far darker than the normal cerulean blue of his irises. It was always a privilege to view John in any state of dishevelment, and he'd constantly expressed the same sentiment of you. It was easy for you to appreciate every inch of his body.
"What happened to 'show me yours and I'll show you mine'?"
"Give us a minute to catch up to you, honey," he replied.
With that, John discarded his shirt in one easy, fluid motion that never failed to impress you with its efficiency. His muscles were well-defined as a result of his constant, vigilant training. Light hair dotted his chest, also disappearing beneath the tantalizing waistband of his pants. You took pride in the fact that this man was unquestionably yours.
Another motion caught your eye as Bob followed the example you and John had set. You took a moment to admire your friend in a way you'd never considered before. He tended to wear baggy clothes that hid his figure, a choice which he had decided to stick with even after moving into the Watchtower. The only time before now when you had been made aware of what he truly looked like was when he'd been coerced into wearing that golden Sentry getup. Though it was long buried in the past, it was a memory that stuck with you all the same.
Two pairs of large hands reached for you at once, pulling you out of your thoughts. Both men explored the planes of your body until they reached the places where you needed them the most. You were already aching and riled up, a fact that took them the blink of an eye to discover. They carried you to the bed, and you prepared for all of your fantasies to come true.
Sleep-tinted groans, so much different from the ones that had invaded your senses last night, pierced the air. Your eyes shot open at the sound, bringing you back to the present moment. It was as if you wanted to prove that you were already wide awake and fully functional, with no hangover to plague you whatsoever.
Movement came from the bed, catching your unwitting attention. You glanced in the direction you had discerned the motion from. John raised his head from the pillow until his eyes met yours.
"Hey, honey," he said, his voice still tainted with sleep. He had refused to move from his position in bed, even though you were long gone from his side.
"Hi, handsome," you said, offering him a satisfied smile.
He sat up in order to get a better look at you and returned your smile with one of his own; the rare, genuine kind that was usually only reserved for you. “Is that my shirt?”
"Yeah," you admitted.
His smile slowly morphed into a smirk. "It looks good on you."
Before you had a chance to return the compliment, Bob stirred in the bed. Eventually, he sat up with a groan and surveyed the scene around him through half-lidded eyes. "Fuck." He dragged the word out into several syllables. "What happened last night?" He glanced briefly at your disheveled state, then over at John, still lying in the bed next to him. His eyes widened as he put two and two together. "Holy shit. Did we...did we have sex?"
"Yeah." A smile spread across your face. It had all come back to you, clear as crystal. "We did."
Suddenly, the shy man you knew when you'd first met made a reappearance. "Was it good?"
You gestured down at yourself. "Well, I'm sore everywhere, so...."
"So that's a yes," John filled in, admiring the evidence of his claim on you. He tilted his head in your direction, as if inviting the other man in the room to revel in the experience with him. "Look at her, Bob. Look what we did to her."
Bob obeyed the order like a good soldier. You felt his eyes roam over your body, as if he was mentally reliving the events of last night...or at least as much as he could remember of it. His gaze lingered on the marks at your collarbone, still barely visible beneath John's shirt.
You couldn't help but notice the gold rings that had started to form around Bob's irises. If memory served you correctly, you had even glimpsed them last night while he and John had had their way with you. It was too much to hope that they were merely a byproduct of the sun shining through the curtains, but, of course, you knew better than that.
"You good, Bob?" you asked. You hurried over to his side of the bed and tentatively ran your hand up and down his arm in what you hoped were soothing motions. The entire team regularly worked together to ensure that Manhattan wouldn't experience a repeat demonstration of the infamous Sentry/Void situation, and you always made sure to do your part to contribute. It was your sacred duty as his friend...though after last night, you were unsure exactly where you stood with him.
"I'm great," Bob replied. "Just great!"
You nodded and stepped away from the bed, deliberately choosing to avert your eyes as the men you'd spent the night with slowly slipped back into their clothes. At least, if anything, you would have the events of last night memorized for the next time you needed to conjure up one of your fantasies. Never mind the fact that you were already desperately hoping that it would happen again.
You reached for the nearest empty red cup in an echo of your actions from the night before. It would be impossible to truly begin processing what you had done until all the evidence of your wild night was completely cleared off the hotel room floor. Soon, following your example, your companions elected to join you in cleaning up the mess you'd made.
When the room had nearly been restored to its previous state of cleanliness, Bob hovered nervously in the corner. He stood next to a black garbage bag filled with most of the evidence of last night's activities. He shifted his weight, a telltale sign you'd learned to spot that denoted something weighing on his mind.
"So, I hate to ask this now, but...you're not exclusive, are you?" He looked between you and John pointedly. "Because I...I like both of you, and..."
"We like you, too," said John, effectively alleviating any potential awkwardness. He turned to you, counting on you to support his statement. "Right, honey?"
"Yeah." You nodded. You no longer wanted to push your true feelings deep down where you'd successfully kept them hidden up until now. "We'd make a good throuple."
Your boyfriend sent you a confused glance. It was as if he thought you'd begun to speak a language he couldn't understand. "What's that?"
"It's like a couple, but with three people instead of two."
"If that's what you want to be," added Bob, hesitation evident in his voice.
“I…yeah, I think so." John's cheeks returned to the flushed state they had been in last night. "I'd like that." His brow was furrowed as he processed this information that was apparently new to him. He looked incredulously between you and Bob. It was as if he'd just made a new discovery, one that he had never considered before. "It makes sense, 'cause I've got you..." he pulled you in to his side and pressed a possessive kiss to your hair. "But I also want you." He glanced pointedly at Bob.
"Yeah. Me too," you agreed. "It feels right."
John gave you a sweet smile. It was the kind he always reserved for you behind closed doors. You'd attempted to encourage him to utilize it more, especially in front of the press, but you took any small victory you could get. "Anything for my girl."
"Our girl," Bob corrected, as if the distinction was of the utmost importance to him.
Suddenly, it didn't matter how long it would take for the heat outside to finally, miraculously break, or whether the rest of the team would be wondering where you'd gone off to. You were looking forward to taking advantage of the dwindling, remaining time left for the small reprieve you had from your everyday life. As long as you could spend precious time with both of the men who held your heart in their hands, you would be content. The three of you would have plenty of time to reexamine and explore your new relationship to each other, defining it however you agreed to see fit. All you knew for the moment was that this was everything you could ever have asked for. From then on, your entire being was overwhelmingly full of love, and for better or worse, your life was complete.
