Word Count: Probably about 2200
Rating: NC-17 for language and sex, sex, sex
Summary: There used to be four of them and now they were three, triangulated, spaced evenly apart. No matter where she was, she would always be in the middle.
Spoilers/Warnings: Through the finale. Also, there is some slashiness in here, along with some threesome action.
She wasn’t sure who had suggested it. She lay there pondering it for awhile, but she supposed it didn’t matter. Somehow, the day Aaron Echolls was convicted for the murder of Lilly Kane, they had all met up in the courtroom, lingering at the door, hesitating to face the paparazzi beyond. And though Veronica had talked to Logan, and Logan had talked to Duncan, and Duncan had talked to Veronica since it all happened, they hadn’t all been together, just the three of them. So, one of them or another had suggested they meet up that night, and drink a toast to Lilly, a dead girl who would never stop haunting them, no matter how many times they put her to rest.
Keith, determined to move on with his life, was out on a skip trace. Trina, determined to capitalize on the prurient interest of the public, was off in L.A. for an endless series of crocodile-teary interviews. Jake and Celeste had gone straight from the courthouse to their private jet, determined to finally mourn their daughter out of the public eye in an undisclosed location. So really, they could have met anywhere, but they ended up at the Kane house. It seemed apropos, somehow, all of them in the place where it had all fallen apart.
When Logan cracked open the best bottle of scotch in the house for their toast, Duncan made no move to stop him. They toasted Lilly without words, because anything they would have said would have been choked with sadness and cliches, and that wasn’t Lilly. Lilly would have known a good toast, something ribald and funny and shocking.
But Lilly was dead, and they drank to her, each in their own way. Duncan sipped his scotch, silently and contemplatively. Veronica coughed, as it coursed through her stomach. Logan drained his glass in one swallow, then started drinking directly from the bottle.
At one point or another, they started passing the bottle around between them from their spots on Duncan’s bed. They all sat, cross-legged and barefoot, triangulated, equal distances apart. They told stories about Lilly, stories about the four of them and how they used to be, and the bottle got lower, and the distance between them fractured, and when Veronica woke up, blinking blearily, she was sandwiched between Logan and Duncan. She guessed they had all fallen asleep sometime, she thought, her recollections hazy and sticky. She couldn’t remember how they’d gotten to this point. She couldn’t remember who’d thought the three of them alone together with a bottle of booze was a good idea.
But maybe it had been. Logan was cuddled up to her from behind, his breathing slow and even, though his heart pounded like a hummingbird. Her shirt had ridden up a little, and it was warm where his arm fell across her exposed midriff. Duncan was asleep facing her. His eyelids fluttered like he was dreaming, and she reached up to touch his face.
“Hey,” he murmured, blinking drowsily.
He reached up and took her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers.
“Do you ever think about how it used to be?”
She felt like he’d asked her that before, a long time ago. She had lied that time - somehow, she had become a liar, and she didn’t remember how that had happened either. So she decided just this once to let her defenses down.
“Yes.” She said simply, and he reached up to brush away the tear that snaked its way down the side of her face.
When he kissed her, it was slow and languorous, gentle like it used to be. For a moment, it was how it used to be. She felt safe and shy when his tongue crept past her lips, soft and slow as velvet. Maybe she moved with the rhythm of the kiss, or maybe she moaned, or maybe when Duncan reached out to draw her closer he jostled Logan’s arm, because suddenly there was movement behind her, and she froze, pressed between two of the three people she had spent her whole childhood loving.
“Are you fucking kidding me with this?” Logan’s voice was staccato like gunfire, disturbing her dreamlike reverie, and she rolled over and caught his arms before he could move away from her, from them.
“Let go of me.”
“Calm down. We weren’t doing anything,” Veronica whispered.
“What are you two back together, now? Great. You can be king and queen of the prom.”
“It was just a kiss, Logan.” She released his wrists and rubbed her eyes wearily.
“Whatever. I’m out of here.” But he didn’t go, just eased back into the mattress, pinning her down with his gaze.
“Funny. I never pegged you for the jealous type.” Veronica said, finally.
“I never liked to share my toys,” he said, and drew her close to him in a kiss.
If kissing Duncan was velvet, then Logan was broken glass. Kissing him was sharp and dangerous and liable to draw blood. But she had gotten used to pain, and she welcomed it from him, felt she had earned it somehow. She moaned when his tongue twisted over hers, hot and angry, and for the second time in as many minutes she forgot about the boy on the other side, the one she thought she had left behind. So it came as a bit of a shock when she felt Duncan kissing the back of her neck
She stiffened for a moment. Sure, she’d changed, and things weren’t how they used to be, but she was still a good girl, wasn’t she? A good girl who’d fucked her almost brother (even if she didn’t remember) and a girl who’d almost fucked her dead best friend’s (not) boyfriend, sure. But at the same time?
But Logan’s mouth was on hers, and Duncan’s lips were tantalizingly soft as they worked around to the edge of her collarbone, and he nipped with gentle teeth, and she gave into the moment. Soon she’d have to choose between boys from her past, make one of them her future, but not tonight.
Even with her eyes closed, she could tell their hands apart. Duncan’s hands were soft, because things were handed to him, and he accepted them gently, as his right. His fingers grazed her ribcage, stroked the soft skin of her midriff, moved achingly slowly up to stroke her breast through her filmy bra. Logan’s hands were rough with defense wounds, and he skipped the preamble, moving his hands up her thighs, under her skirt, seeking her slick heat. She writhed on his fingers as he shoved them inside her, and moaned into his mouth, tried to pull back from the intense sensation, but Duncan was behind her still, penning her in, lifting her shirt above her head. She broke away from Logan’s kiss and gasped for air, then sank her teeth into his shoulder as she came on his fingers, shuddering and spasming.
He didn’t give her time to recover, just rolled her onto her back, as he slid off her skirt and her underwear. Duncan leaned over her to kiss her, slow and deep and bittersweet as molasses, and the change in pace left her reeling. She reached up to twist her fingers through his hair, then giggled as Logan began kissing his way playfully up her leg.
“You know,” she murmured, pulling reluctantly away from Duncan’s kiss. “This doesn’t seem fair. You two are distinctly overdressed. I’m starting to feel like it’s two against one here.”
“What,” Logan smirked, pulling off his shirt. “You’d rather it was every man for himself?”
Veronica arched an eyebrow at him, and he caught his snap, leaning over her to catch Duncan in a kiss. Veronica leaned back and watched the show, a little surprised. They’d obviously done this before, though interestingly, Duncan was blushing as he pulled away.
“Hmm,” Logan said contemplatively, as he started to unfasten his pants. “It’s an interesting thought. But I like the two-on-one better. If it’s going to be any fair fight at all, we’re going to have to gang up on you, I think.”
“I thought you didn’t like to share,” she panted as he propped her ankle up against his shoulder.
“I don’t. But you just might be too much woman for me to handle,” he sighed, as he sank inside.
He paused as she tensed up beneath him, and Duncan moved beside her to soothe her with a deep kiss. His fingers brushed teasingly over her nipples and she relaxed a little, and Logan began moving inside her again, slowly at first. He shouldn’t have worried about her - soon she was moaning and thrashing all over the place, and he had to pin her hips with his hands to keep her from wiggling off the damn bed.
“All right, that’s enough sharing,” he said, and nudged Duncan out of the way.
Logan yanked her up towards him, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, closer.
“Is that all you’ve got?” She challenged him, her skin flushed and damp with perspiration. He clamped one hand over her mouth, and moved the other between her legs, between them.
“I don’t want you to talk, I just want you to come for me.”
She glared at him, but she bit down hard on his hand as she came at his command, like he knew she would. She was a good girl, after all. And he came with her, because he liked to have power over her, because he liked that she had just as much power over him.
He collapsed on top of her, and they lay there for a full minute. She kept having aftershocks, and he was trembling, and somehow the aftermath was even hotter than the fucking. The spell was broken when Duncan cleared his throat.
“So, should I just take a cold shower then or what?”
Veronica could feel Logan laugh into her neck, and she pushed him until he peeled his sweat-sticky body off of her.
“Aww, DK, did we forget about you, man?” Logan draped an arm around Duncan as Veronica climbed onto his lap.
“I get it. Three’s a crowd.” He grumbled.
“Oh no,” Veronica reassured him as she pulled him inside her and settled down, eliciting a gasp from his pouty mouth. “Three is definitely company.”
“Does this mean I get to be Suzanne Somers?” Logan asked perkily, pulling Duncan’s earlobe between his teeth and biting down hard. Duncan moaned and let his head loll to the side.
“You always get to be Suzanne Somers,” he said, still petulant, until Veronica bit down hard on his lower lip while she fucked him. She came again, writhing and clutching at his back, and then climbed off him with a devilish smirk.
“That was fun,” she said, sprawling across the mattress by his feet.
“Um, little help here?” He burst out in frustration.
“Oh, were you not done? Hmm. Maybe Logan could help you out with that.”
“Veronica,” Logan scolded. “You used to be such a nice girl,” but he grinned and moved down Duncan’s body, sliding his cock into a practiced mouth. Veronica knew he was tasting her on Duncan’s cock, and tasting himself, and she raked her nails along Duncan’s thigh as he came, adding a third flavor to the mix.
Logan leaned up and kissed Duncan, then pulled Veronica back up the bed between them where she belonged. She knew she should leave, knew the postmortem was going to be even stickier than the denouement, but she was still drunk on scotch and drunk on skin and maybe they’d never even speak of it again, so tonight she would stay between them.
There used to be four of them and now they were three, triangulated, spaced evenly apart. No matter where she was, she would always be in the middle.