The London Sonnets

Spoilers: Anything through Buffy S4 is fair game.
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Property of Joss and ME. Just playing.
Summary: The events of the evening have set the stage for some interesting revelations.
A/N: Follows With Mine Own Weakness Being Best Acquainted. The title is taken from Shakespeare’s Sonnet 23. Once again I couldn’t have done it without Savvy’s encouragement. The kids were taking their sweet time on this chapter, but for a good reason. What does it say when the author is surprised at what happens in the chapter? For previous installments of the Menageaverse, please visit our website at www.responsibleadults.sadbhyl.riverworld.net.


The click of the closing door was like a gunshot in the quiet room. There hadn’t been much conversation since they left the alley to head back to the bed and breakfast. Rupert had muttered to himself a few times about the creature in the alley. Ethan was silently watchful of the dark as they walked. And Joyce tried unsuccessfully to ignore the thoughts that plagued her, of which being attacked was the furthest thing from her mind.

The uncertainty that had haunted her while she had been on the outs with Rupert had returned full force. First seeing Ethan with the woman in the bar the other night, and the Rupert talking with Cassandra, just talking with Cassandra . . . She wasn’t turning into one of those women, was she? One who saw all other women as threats to her position?

And what was her position? As she and Rupert had laid things out all those months ago, this wasn’t an exclusive relationship, and therefore she wasn’t in any position to make demands or claims. She had agreed to the terms, set them down even but . . .

“I can’t stand seeing either of you with someone else,” Joyce spoke suddenly and loudly, surprising herself with the vehemence of the statement. “Maybe that makes me selfish. I tried to be big about it, but I don’t like the thought of having to share either of you with someone else.”

They looked at each other, then at her, equal pictures of puzzlement.

She was standing alone in the middle of the room. Rupert stepped toward her, “Joyce, if this is about Ca—”

“Stop,” she said firmly, closing her eyes. “This isn’t about her. It’s about us. All three of us. No, that’s not right either.” She paused, searching for the right words. Finally she opened her eyes and looked at them levelly. “This is about me and what I thought I wanted and finding out that I want something else.”

“What do you want, Joyce?” Ethan asked neutrally, his face an unreadable .

.

“You,” she said pointedly. Then to Rupert, “And you. No one else.”

“And you think it’s different for us?” Rupert asked, eyes sparking.

She shrugged, not knowing how to respond. What really surprised her was that Ethan didn’t argue with Rupert.

He seemed to read her thoughts. “For once the man makes a good point.”

Even Rupert seemed taken aback.

Ethan walked past her toward the balcony. He stopped and seemed to lose himself looking into the darkness. “As Rupert can attest, I have never been what one would call faithful,” his voice was very low. “But since this all began, there haven’t been any others. Not for quite some time, actually. Shocking, isn’t it, Ripper?” he glanced over his shoulder at his friend.

“No more so than anything else I suppose,” Rupert acknowledged.

“I shouldn’t be surprised,” Ethan continued calmly, “but I like to think my opinion counts for something. You two seem to have this understanding that I had no part of. How do you think that makes me feel? Not knowing, not sharing in that?”

“But that was months ago!” Joyce protested, taking a step toward him before thinking better of it and remained where she was. “Not more than a week after that first night, when it still looked like maybe it was just a one time thing.”

“And after?”

Rupert spared her replying, “I’m not sure about Joyce, but I know I haven’t thought about it until now. Accepted it as a matter of course.”

Ethan made a noncommittal noise and turned back to the window. After a few moments of silence, “You know what hurt, and it really shouldn’t have, but . . . nevermind.”

Joyce caught Rupert’s eye, questioning. She was on the verge of pressing Ethan to finish when he continued.

“No, not nevermind. We’re being honest here tonight, aren’t we?” He faced them again. Everything was there for them to see. Ethan open and emotionally naked before them. Looking directly at Joyce, “The first time I saw Rupert not use any form of protection with you, and knew that it was out of some mutual agreement. Made things a bit too clear, though I didn’t want to admit it then.”

“That I trusted him more than you,” she said, not needing to ask.

“Which was very wise on your part, my dear. Still would be,” he added. “Safer not to trust me.”

“Safer for whom?” Rupert asked pointedly.

“You of all people have to ask?” Ethan replied tiredly.

Rupert shook his head. “No, I don’t.”

“You don’t trust yourself,” Joyce commented, knowing she was right.

“I know myself, better than anyone else,” he didn’t argue. “Save Ripper. At least, he used to have a good idea.”

“I know what you’re capable of,” she cried out in near frustration. “Experienced it firsthand, didn’t I?”

“That may be, but it was still mild mannered compared to . . . other things I’ve done.”

“I would be surprised if it wasn’t,” she admitted freely. “You need to understand one thing, Ethan, I don’t give my trust easily, to anyone. Not anymore. Regardless of what they have done or are capable of doing.”

“That bastard really did a number on you, didn’t he?” The question came from Rupert, heavily laden with anger.

Joyce cringed inwardly. She did not need to revisit things with Hank on top of everything else tonight. “Rupert, not tonight,” she pleaded.

His features softened somewhat as he approached her. Caressing her cheek lightly, “I’ll never understand how he could hurt you like that. Couldn’t he see what he had?”

Rupert’s voice was filled with so much shock and concern. And his eyes held so much lo—Oh god, no. No, no, no, no, no. Not yet. Not—no. She backed quickly out of his reach, seeking Ethan out to ground her. But there was no help there either. While his expression was a bit more closed off than Rupert’s, Joyce could still see hints of similar emotion there.

She needed to get away. Too much.

Without any preamble, Joyce turned on her heels and ran into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. This night had gone beyond any of her wildest imaginings. A fun night out, that was all it was supposed to be. And then it had gone to hell. Maybe something like this could only work behind closed doors.

Sighing, she leaned against the door for support. On top of everything else, her mind didn’t need to delve into that topic tonight. And yet . . .

If this wasn’t just some casual fling, or an occasional good time, what was it? Deep feelings running between three people, leading to something serious . . . But how serious could thing get between them? Jealousies were bound to flare and wouldn’t imbalance eventually drive them apart? Was it even possible to make something like this work?

No more thinking. If she thought anymore, Joyce felt that she might possibly go crazy. Especially after seeing how deeply both men felt.

She couldn’t hide in here forever. She had to go out and face them eventually. The key was to clear her mind. Not think about—Taking a deep breath Joyce turned the knob.

Emerging from the bathroom, Joyce walked purposefully to the center of the room, not looking at either of her lovers. Stopping halfway between them, “Fuck me,” she said, her voice low and steady. “Fuck me. I don’t want to think any more tonight. Please, just fuck me.”

Part command, but mostly a plea. She needed comfort, reaffirmation, a reminder of why it did work, how good it felt to be with them.

Ethan was the first to approach, turning away from the dark night. His hand hovered beside a stray curl, hesitating in the familiar gesture. Finally a single finger threaded through and tucked it behind her ear.

“No more thinking,” he rasped as he leaned in and kissed her lingeringly. It was far more gentle and tender than any he had given her before. Any doubts she may have had about how deep Ethan’s feelings were quickly dissipated. What he carefully tried to hide came across loud and clear through his actions. Oh! Joyce felt the panic begin to rise again and threaten to take over. She quashed it immediately with iron-hard resolve. No more. In response, she gave herself over completely, opening up to Ethan, taking him in, letting him overwhelm her completely.

Joyce was dimly aware of Rupert’s arms wrapping around her from behind, holding her close as Ethan still kissed her.

“There will be no fucking tonight,” Rupert whispered in her ear before he began tracing a delicate path along her neck with ghostly murmurs of his lips.

She didn’t deserve this. They were far too good to her.

Working his way into Rupert’s embrace, Ethan pressed close. Breaking the kiss, “There is to be no more worrying, dear girl. No more for tonight, agreed?”

She nodded in silent agreement, head dropping back against Rupert.

Soon both lovers were wrapped around her, each worshipping a side in their own ways. Rupert mumbling reverently and Ethan teasing tenderly but with intent. How had she ever got on without them?

With a combination of skill and subconscious coordination the three managed to divest each other of their shirts and Joyce her bra. Bare skin to bare skin to bare skin, contact with both front and back, she was lost in the intimate sensation of the uncovered flesh of two male bodies surrounding her. It was both sensual and soothing, arousing and calming her at the same time.

And then there was the leather, constricting and hot, but thin enough to feel everything through. A second skin that concealed and revealed at the same time.

But eventually the leather joined their respective shirts, pooled at their feet. Sandwiched nude between her naked lovers, Joyce finally succeeded in not thinking anymore.

A tangle of limbs, hands and fingers everywhere seeking out, stroking, brushing, groping . . . They lost themselves in each other, in sensation.

Joyce felt herself hoisted into the air by one of her lovers and carried to the bed. Blinking hazy eyes into focus, she looked up into Rupert’s face, eye color nearly absent with arousal and a small smile tugging at his lips. God, he was gorgeous.

Her trance was broken by a light kiss on her left shoulder. She turned her gaze upon Ethan, whose dark eyes stared unblinkingly back. Here was a man of great confidence who greatly underestimated his capacity to do so much good for those he was with. He didn’t like to be vulnerable, and yet he didn’t run away when he realized he was.

She pulled her lovers to her so that they lay even on either side and reveled in their calming kisses and caresses, feeling the darkness of the evening finally pass.

“How will you have us, dearest Joyce?” Ethan nipped lightly at her ear. “We are here to do your bidding.”

Two hands from two lovers ghosting down her stomach, between her legs, and grazing apart her labia, working together to give her pleasure.

“Amazing,” Rupert breathed, slipping one finger inside. “You have no idea how amazing you are.”

Rupert stroked slowly inside while Ethan teased outside, and then they switched. Each man had his own technique and touch. Both so skilled and knowing. They both knew what she needed so well.

“Like this,” she gasped. “Just keep doing this.”

More would come later, for all involved, but for the moment, just having them touching her was enough. Working in concert, seemingly of one mind and goal. Slipping around each other, trading places, slowly building her higher. Joyce relaxed and let go. There was only Ethan and Rupert and sensation. And when she came at last, her mind was blissfully blank.