The Next Morning
I'm making breakfast when there's a knock at the door.
Keith goes to answer it and I hear Naomi's cheerful voice carrying through the apartment.
"Morning! I left some of my stuff here and thought I'd grab it before class."
"Come in," Keith says. "Want some coffee?"
"Always."
She appears in the kitchen, still in her pajamas from yesterday somehow looking perfectly put together, and immediately spots Lily sleeping in her bed by the window.
"Hi, baby!" she whispers, careful not to wake her.
Lily's ear twitches but she doesn't open her eyes.
"She missed you," I say, flipping the eggs.
"I was only gone one night!" But Naomi looks pleased. "Oh, that reminds me—Cecil, you should totally come next time Mom and I go somewhere. She really enjoyed having you there."
"Really?"
"Really. She kept talking about how nice it was to spend time with you. And honestly? I liked having you there too. It felt..." She pauses, searching for words. "Complete. Like that's how it's supposed to be."
The words settle warmly in my chest. "I'd like that."
"Perfect!" Naomi grabs her coffee from Keith with a grateful smile. "I'll let you know when we plan the next trip."
I glance over at Keith and Dylan, expecting them to look pleased that I had a good time.
Instead, Keith's expression is carefully neutral and Dylan is focused very intently on his own coffee.
Oh.
Are they... jealous?
Of me?
Not obviously. Not dramatically. But there's a slight tension in Keith's shoulders, a careful blankness in Dylan's expression that I'm learning to recognize.
They missed me yesterday. And now Naomi is talking about future trips, more time away from them, and they're trying very hard to be supportive while also feeling left out.
An idea begins to form in my mind and I smile to myself.
Naomi finishes her coffee quickly, grabs her forgotten items from the guest room, and gives Lily one more gentle pet before heading out.
"See you later!" she calls. "And seriously, Cecil—next trip, you're coming!"
The door closes behind her and the apartment falls into a strange quiet.
"Breakfast is ready," I announce, plating the eggs.
We eat in relative silence—not uncomfortable, exactly, but not our usual easy conversation either.
Keith keeps glancing at me like he wants to say something but stops himself.
Dylan is doing that thing where he's hyper-focused on his food to avoid looking at me directly.
After breakfast, I excuse myself to my room.
I open my closet and start pulling out clothes—a few pairs of pajamas, some underwear, a couple of casual shirts, my favorite hoodie.
I gather everything into two neat piles and take a breath.
This is a good idea. This will help.
I hope.
I carry the clothes back to the living room where Keith and Dylan have settled on the couch.
"Can you both come here for a second?" I ask.
They exchange a glance but stand, moving toward me.
I hold out the two piles of clothes. "Here."
Keith blinks. "What's this?"
"Clothes. For your rooms." I keep my voice steady even though my heart is racing. "I realized I don't have anything in either of your rooms. And since we've been rotating where we sleep, it makes sense to have some things in each place. So I don't have to keep going back to my room."
The silence stretches.
Then Dylan's lips curve into a small smile. "That's... very practical."
"It is practical," I defend, even though we all know this is about more than practicality.
Dylan takes his pile of clothes carefully, like they're something precious. "Thank you, baby."
Keith is still staring at his pile. Then, without warning, he sets the clothes down on the coffee table and moves toward me.
"Keith?"
His arms wrap around me from behind and his lips find my neck—pressing slow, deliberate kisses along the sensitive skin there.
"You're perfect," he murmurs between kisses. "You know that?"
My breath catches. "I just brought you some clothes—"
"You brought us clothes so you'd have a reason to stay in our rooms more." Another kiss. "So we'd know you want to be there."
"That's not—" I stop because he's right. That's exactly what this is.
Dylan moves closer, still holding the clothes, his free hand coming up to cup my face. "Which room are we sleeping in tonight?"
The question hangs in the air.
Keith's lips are still on my neck. Dylan's eyes are dark and focused entirely on me.
"I—" My voice comes out strangled. "I don't know?"
"Dylan's room," Keith decides, his breath warm against my skin. "He has the biggest bed."
Heat floods my face immediately.
The biggest bed. The implication is clear.
"You're blushing," Dylan observes, amused.
"I'm not—"
"You absolutely are," Keith says, finally pulling back to look at me. "It's adorable."
"Beautiful," Dylan corrects.
"Both," Keith agrees.
I cover my face with my hands, trying to will away the flush I can feel spreading down my neck.
"Don't hide," Keith says gently, pulling my hands away. "We like seeing you blush."
"Why are you even blushing?" Dylan asks, but his tone is teasing. "We're just talking about sleeping arrangements."
"You know exactly why," I mutter.
"Do we?" Keith grins. "Maybe you should explain it to us."
"I'm not explaining—"
"Come on, beautiful. Use your words."
I glare at both of them, but there's no heat in it. "It's a natural reaction. It makes sense that I blush around the people I love."
The words come out before I can stop them.
More honest than I intended.
More vulnerable.
Keith goes very still. Dylan's expression shifts into something soft and warm and overwhelming.
"Say that again," Keith requests quietly.
"What?"
"The last part. About loving us."
"I—" I take a breath. "I blush because I love you. Both of you. And when you say things like 'biggest bed' with that tone, my brain short-circuits because I love you and I want—"
I stop, my face somehow getting even hotter.
"You want what?" Dylan prompts gently.
"I want to be with you. Both of you. Like that. Eventually. When—when I'm ready."
The admission hangs between us.
Keith's hand comes up to cup my face, his thumb tracing along my cheekbone. "We know, beautiful. We know. And we'll wait. However long you need."
"We're not in a rush," Dylan adds, setting down the clothes so he can pull me against him. "We have all the time in the world."
"But we love that you blush," Keith continues, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "Love that we affect you that way. Love that you feel safe enough to tell us what you want."
"Even if you're not ready for it yet," Dylan finishes.
I lean into them, letting them hold me, feeling safe and loved and completely overwhelmed in the best way.
"Tonight," Dylan murmurs. "My room. All three of us."
"Just sleeping," Keith clarifies quickly. "Unless you want something else."
"Just sleeping sounds perfect," I manage.
"Good." Dylan presses a kiss to the top of my head. "Then that's what we'll do."
We stand there for a long moment—tangled together in the middle of the living room, clothes forgotten on the coffee table, everything feeling exactly right.
Eventually, Keith pulls back with a grin. "I'm taking these to my room before Lily decides they're a new toy."
As if summoned, Lily appears and immediately tries to climb the pile of clothes on the table.
"See?" Keith scoops her up. "She has no respect for personal property."
"She's a kitten," I point out. "She doesn't understand personal property."
"She understands that soft things are for attacking."
Dylan carefully retrieves his pile of clothes before Lily can get to them. "I'll put these away. Cecil, want to help?"
It's not really a question.
I follow him to his room, where he starts organizing the clothes I brought—putting the pajamas in one drawer, the other items in another, making space like he'd been planning for this all along.
"Thank you," he says quietly, not looking at me. "For this. For thinking of it."
"You were jealous," I say. "Of Naomi and the trip."
"A little," he admits. "Not because we don't want you to have friends or do things without us. Just because we missed you."
"I know." I move closer. "That's why I did this. So you'd know—I want to be here. In your spaces. Part of your lives."
Dylan turns to face me fully, his expression intense. "You are part of our lives, baby. You're the most important part."
"Along with Keith."
"Along with Keith," he agrees. "But you're—" He pauses, searching for words. "You're the piece we didn't know we were missing. Keith and I, we've been dancing around each other for decades. Fated partners who couldn't quite figure out how to bridge the gap. And then you arrived and suddenly everything made sense."
"Because I'm your third," I say quietly.
"Because you're our third," Dylan confirms. "Our missing piece. The one who makes us complete."
The words should feel like pressure. Like responsibility.
Instead, they just feel right.
"I love you," I say, because it bears repeating. "Both of you. So much."
Dylan pulls me into a kiss—slow and deep and full of promise.
When we finally break apart, we're both breathing heavily.
"Tonight," he says again. "My room. My bed. All three of us."
"Just sleeping," I repeat, but my voice is shaky.
"Just sleeping," he confirms. "For now."
The 'for now' hangs in the air between us, full of possibility.
And despite the nerves, despite the uncertainty about when I'll be ready for more—
I'm looking forward to it.
To tonight. To being held by both of them in Dylan's too-big bed. To falling asleep surrounded by the people I love most.
To whatever comes next.
Together.
Always together.
---
That Evening
The day passes in comfortable routine—studying, playing with Lily, making dinner together.
But there's an undercurrent of anticipation running through everything.
Tonight. Dylan's room. All three of us.
Just sleeping, but somehow it feels significant anyway.
Around ten PM, Dylan stands from where he's been reading on the couch. "I'm heading to bed."
It's earlier than usual. Deliberate.
"Me too," Keith says immediately.
They both look at me.
"Yeah," I manage. "Me too."
We take turns in the bathroom—Keith first, then me, then Dylan. By the time Dylan emerges, Keith and I are already in his room, standing somewhat awkwardly by the bed.
Dylan's room is always neat, but tonight it feels different. The fairy lights are on, casting soft shadows. The bed looks impossibly large and inviting.
"You two look like you're about to face a firing squad," Dylan observes, amused.
"We're not—" I start.
"You absolutely are," Keith interrupts. "We're both nervous and we don't know why."
"Because this feels significant," Dylan says, moving closer. "Even though it's just sleeping. Even though we've done this before."
"It's the 'all three of us in Dylan's room' thing," I admit. "It feels more... official somehow."
"Official," Dylan repeats, considering. "I like that."
He pulls back the covers in invitation.
Keith climbs in first, settling on the left side. Dylan gets in on the right, leaving the middle space for me.
I hesitate for just a moment before climbing in between them.
The bed is huge—Dylan wasn't exaggerating. There's plenty of room for all three of us with space to spare.
But we don't use that space.
Keith immediately curls against my side, his arm draping across my waist.
Dylan pulls me back against his chest, his arms coming around both me and Keith.
We're tangled together—three bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces.
"Comfortable?" Dylan murmurs against my hair.
"Very," I whisper.
"Good." Keith's hand finds mine under the covers, lacing our fingers together. "Because I'm not moving until morning."
"Neither am I," Dylan agrees.
We lie there in the soft glow of the fairy lights, listening to each other breathe.
"This is nice," Keith says after a while. "All of us together like this."
"It is," Dylan confirms.
"I feel safe," I add quietly. "Really, completely safe."
Keith presses a kiss to my shoulder. "You are safe, beautiful. Always."
"We've got you," Dylan promises. "Both of us. Always."
The words settle over me like a warm blanket.
I'm safe. I'm loved. I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be.
"Thank you," I whisper. "For being patient with me. For waiting."
"We'd wait forever," Keith says simply.
"However long you need," Dylan adds.
"I don't think it'll be forever," I admit, my face heating even in the darkness. "I'm just... I need time to feel ready. To not be scared."
"We know, baby." Dylan's arms tighten slightly. "And we'll be here. However long that takes."
Keith shifts, propping himself up on one elbow to look at me. "Can I tell you something?"
"Always."
"I've been in love with you since we were kids. Since before I even understood what love was." His voice is soft in the darkness. "And I've been in love with Dylan for decades. But this—" He gestures at the three of us tangled together. "—this is the first time I've felt complete. Like all the pieces finally fit."
"Same," Dylan says quietly. "I've been waiting for this. For you, Cecil. For all of us together like this."
My throat tightens. "I've never felt like I belonged anywhere. Not really. Not until I found you both."
"You belong here," Keith says firmly. "With us. Always."
"Always," Dylan echoes.
We fall into comfortable silence again.
Keith's breathing starts to even out first—he always falls asleep the fastest.
Dylan is still awake behind me, his thumb tracing idle patterns on my arm.
"Dylan?" I whisper.
"Mm?"
"Thank you. For this. For your room. For making space for me."
"You don't have to thank me for that, baby. This is your space too now. All of it. My room, Keith's room, the whole apartment. It's yours."
The words make my chest feel too full.
"I love you," I say, because I need him to know. Need them both to know.
"Love you too," Dylan murmurs, pressing a kiss to the back of my neck. "So much."
Keith mumbles something in his sleep that sounds like agreement.
I smile in the darkness and let myself relax completely.
Safe. Loved. Home.
Exactly where I belong.
I drift off to sleep surrounded by warmth and the steady breathing of the two people I love most in the world.
And for the first time in longer than I can remember, I don't dream of falling.
I dream of flying.