Polyamorous.

The next morning when I wake up, it's barely light out. I have a pounding headache that I'm not at all surprised about. However, what does surprise is the bottle of Advil and glass of ice water that sit on the nightstand just to my right. They couldn't have been there long, considering the ice is still in perfect cubes. Being grateful to whoever sat them there for me, I open the pill bottle and pour out two, downing both with a few gulps of water. I screw the cap back onto the bottle and place it back on the night stand before pushing the covers off of me and swinging my feet off the bed and onto the floor.

I pad my way into the bathroom, seeing that there's towels and wash cloths and all sorts of things waiting for me. Once again, I internally thank whoever set these out and take care of my business. Whenever I finish the shower, I get dressesd, brush my teeth and comb my wet hair into some kind of halfway manageable and decent looking style.

I'm almost afraid to go downstairs, where I can see a flickering light. I know someone is down there. Either Callen or Quenton is awake and I'm not sure which option would be the lesser even here. I decide to man up anyway, and walk quietly down the steps, freezing with the sight my eyes are met with.

My eyes go wide at seeing my brother between Quenton's legs as he sits up on the back of the couch. Callen's holding him at the hips and Quenton has his arms wrapped around Callen's neck. Their lips are attached and moving together softly and the sight is so breath-taking that I can't help but watch. I thought that whenever I finally caught them being intimate that it would make me gag and my stomach churn in disgust. But now that I'm actually seeing it, I can't help but think of how lovely it looks and how one day I'd like to have someone hold me so delicately.

I'm broken from my thoughts as Quenton's eyes catch mine and a blush swarms over my cheeks. He pushes Callen away gently, coughing. "Oh, g'morning, Ani."

I duck my head in embarrassment, peeking up at the pair from beneath my fringe. "Good morning."

I hear Callen chuckle and I only blush more, pulling my hoodie sleeves down into my palms. "Sorry about that, little bro," he says, helping Quenton slide off the couch carefully.

"I uhm, it's okay. You guys are cute together. Beautiful couple," I blurt out like word vomit, mentally facepalming and blushing once again.

This time it's Quenton who laughs, his blue eyes twinkling as he walks towards me. "You're cute too, Ani," he says before placing a kiss to my temple and tangling his fingers with mine. "Come on. I made breakfast before Callen turned into a distracting, little shit."

I have no choice but to follow him into the kitchen with Callen follwing us close behind. Quenton is rambling on about what he cooked for breakfast and I'm not quite paying attention because I'm too busy thinking about how his hand feels in mine. It's totally weird and almost freaks me out, because hey, this is Quenton! The same guy who has been dating my brother for the better part of four years and here I am thinking about how my tiny hands are practically swallowed within his slightly larger ones. But it doesn't feel weird or wrong and all of a sudden I just stop.

Callen runs into me and my hand shoots out to grab his. Quenton's looking at me like I'm crazy and well, you know, it's not the first time. No one really speaks. They both just watch as my eyes shift from hand to hand, thinking about how different each one feels, but how they both feel so warm and welcome in my own. I never notice it happening, but two sets of arms are suddenly around me, swallowing me whole inside a hug. And it's like, in that moment in time, I've never felt more at home in my life.

"I meant what I said yesterday, Ani. We love you. We both love you so much," Quenton says against my hair.

I nod, not even feeling close to ready enough to say those words back. "Well, uhm," I stutter, wiggling my way out from between them. "We can eat now?"

Quenton nods and Callen busies himself getting plates and things. I'm saved from another awkward emotional outburst and I'm slightly grateful. I want today to be a good day. So please, let me have a good day.

~
The one time I actually semi-pray to have a good day, of course God would laugh in my face and make sure that the opposite happens. I mean, in terms of emotional break downs, I'm safe. But I can't help but feel overly clingy today. I'm wedged up under Quenton's arm, my upper half sprawled across his lap while my lower lays comfortably along Callen's. And of course, instead of being enthralled with the movie, or even engaged in the conversation the two boys are having, I'm thinking about hands. Specifically their hands.

My brother's hands are wrapped around my calves, massaging them gently and mindlessly in a way that makes my eyes want to roll back into my head. Quenton's hands are brushing through my hair, tugging and stroking soft mewls right out of my throat. Their hands are total opposites in feeling. Callen's are rougher, a sign that he either once did manual labor or still is, and they're larger, being able to wrap around my small calves easily. Quenton's hand are softer, callaus free and smaller, though larger than my own. His finger are long and thin, perfect for art, and my brother's are not as long and thicker, perfect for things I don't care to think about.

When I happen to look up, Quenton's staring down at me and smiling, this lovey, longing look in his blue eyes. I look over at Callen and see the same look on his face. "Why are you both looking at me like that?" I gulp.

"Looking at you like what?" Callen asks.

"Like, like I'm some tiny, perfect human being." I yelp, watching both of them warily.

"Because you are," Quenton whispers, flicking my nose affectionately.

"What?" I ask, eyes wide as saucers.

"We think you're perfect. You look happy, and happy looks good on you," Callen answers.

"O-oh?" I stutter as I feel the heat rush to my cheeks.

"See," Quenton begins, brushing his thumbs over my reddened cheeks. "Perfect."

There he goes with the hands and touching me and making my stomach go nuts. I'm lost in his ice blues and how different they are from Cal's more familiar pools of chocolate. I don't feel aforementioned man scoot closer, and soon I find myself wedged even more between the two practically sitting in both of their laps at the same time. And it's weird, but welcome. All of these nice touches, they're so welcome because it's been so long since a caring hand has touched me.

Cal cups my face in his hands and I'm forced to look into pools of brown that are so different from the bright blue of Quenton's and so much like my own. And for the first time, I see the love he claims he has for me. And in the moment, all the hell I've ever been through is forgotten because this is my brother and he loves me. And he cares. And okay, since when did I become a fucking sap?

Before Callen can even get a word out, I shake my head, sighing. "I get it. Just please, no more sappy shit. I can't. I don't want to break down. Not today, Cal. Not today."

He nods, sighing and moving away. Both of them drop their hands from my body and I find myself now sitting on actual couch instead of legs and bodies. I miss the contact, but at the same time, I'm grateful. My mind is no longer blurred with feelings and all sorts of things that I spent my life avoiding.

The rest of the day goes by pretty well and I go to bed smiling. I'm not naive enough to think that this goodness will last long though, because who are we kidding? I'm going to fuck up eventually, right?