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Pacey
I sit looking at my best friend—he may not consider us that anymore, but I still do—and am struck by how he is my home. He may live in LA now and I may be back in Capeside, the same loser I have always been, but when we are together everything is right with the world. For the first sixteen years of my life, there wasn’t a single good memory without Dawson in it. Then I changed things. I fell for Joey and Dawson started hating me. No one knows just how much that hurt me. Maybe it is time to change that.
Dawson’s busy staring at his computer, trying to come up with an ending for his show’s first season, and I know I shouldn’t interrupt him. He’s been working hard for the last few days to decide who Sam would end up with—Colby or Petey. I’d laugh, if I didn’t find it so terribly ironic. For twenty-one episodes, Dawson was reliving our high school drama, so it probably isn’t the right time to bring it all up again. We could go on as we have for our entire lives. We could pretend what I suspect has always been there. But I don’t think I have a choice anymore, so I say the first thing that comes to mind.
“Do you remember sophomore year when we ran the lines for the movie you made about your failed relationship with Joey?”
He looks at me, confusion etched into his features.
“We did that a lot. You need to be more specific,” Dawson responds without even looking up at me.
I nod at him, even though he can’t see me. “This particular night, we were going over the scene where fake Joey was telling you that she needed to think about the consequences of loving you.”
“Right. Was this the time you complained about playing a girl?”
“Yeah. that’s what I said, but that wasn’t it.”
“I don’t know why you’re choosing to tell me this ten years later.”
“I should have said something years ago, but I chickened out every single time. You see, the thing is that as I read those lines, my heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest and it scared me. It scared me because you were my best friend. It scared me because we were both guys and I knew that you would never feel the same way about me. Was I wrong?”
I don’t know what prompts me to add that last question. He has never given the slightest indication that he returns my feelings, but I have to know. I stare at my him—so many years and so much drama between us, coloring everything that has happened over the last decade of our lives.
“Well?”
The same shock I feel at that question is written over every plane of Dawson’s face. He looks at me as if he’s never seen me before and I briefly wonder if I’ve thrown away the relationship I’ve been trying to rebuild since our senior year of high school.
Even so, I can’t help being impatient. I’ve loved and hated this man in equal measure for so long that if I don’t get an answer soon I might burst.
Finally, he looks at me and there’s something in his eyes that gives me pause. No, it gives me hope.
“What do you want me to say Pace? Do you want me to tell you about all the times we spent working on my movies or hanging out in my room, commiserating over our love lives or lack of love lives as more often seemed the case, and how I wondered what your stubble would feel like against my skin? How even when I hated you because you had Joey that I wanted you almost as much as I wanted her? Is that what you want to hear?”
My heart races. This can’t be happening.
“Only of it is the truth,” I say, hope a fragile thing in my chest.
He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he runs his hands through his blonde hair. I don’t know if he’s annoyed with me for changing things up again or frustrated with himself for feeling things he doesn’t want to feel.
“Of course, it is the truth! Why do you think it hurt so much when we weren’t friends? Every time I saw you with Joey, I was so angry. Angry because I wanted you both and couldn’t have you.”
I don’t stop to think. I am up and out of my seat, his face is in my hands before I knew it. My mouth crashes down on his and I am doing the one thing I’d never thought I’d get to do. Within seconds he is kissing me back. It was tentative at first, as if neither of us could believe it was happening. Then, it changes. His tongue is in my mouth, dancing with mine. My hands cup his ass, pulling him into me. Suddenly I am up against the door, my head resting on one of Dawson’s ubiquitous movie posters as his mouth continues to plunder mine.
I suck his lip and he moans into my mouth. I never imagined hearing that sound coming from him. From any man. I may have happily supported Doug and Jack when they got together, but a part of me wouldn’t let me accept the attraction that I too had for men. Maybe it is the situation with Jen, watching her die little by little. Maybe it is just time. I don’t particularly care. All I care about in this moment is that my best friend is in my arms. There is only one thing missing that would make this perfect. And if I am right, she is climbing in the window at this very moment.
Joey
It’s a beautiful night and I find myself watching the way the light bounces off of the creek as I walk. Despite all the changes lately, none of them truly affect me. Well, all except my break-up with Christopher. I know I did the right thing. Bessie was right; I am still in love with my ex boyfriends. But it is more than that. When things with him got serious, I ran. I could see myself falling for him and that scared me to the point that I needed to flee. I’m self-aware enough to know that this is my thing. It started with Dawson all those years ago. I’d gotten what I wanted, and I ran from it. Ran straight to Jack. Looking back, I know I chose him because he was safe. That’s why when Pacey let me off the hook earlier today, I resisted. I’d gotten comfortable on that hook because it allowed me to run away as often as I did. Knowing that he wasn’t going to be there if I eventually decide that I want to stop running, scared me almost as much as making the decision to stop running.
With all the running I’ve done, it has done nothing for me. I’m right back in Capeside torn between the two men I’ve spent so much of my time running from.
I didn’t lie to Jen when I said I knew what I wanted, but what I want is not possible. What I want—what I have always wanted—is them both. Dawson and Pacey. I couldn’t choose because I don’t think I’m supposed to choose. But that’s not fair to them, asking them to accept that neither one of them is enough for me. It took a lot of therapy for me to arrive at this conclusion. Of course, I ran from that too. I quit therapy, threw myself into work, and met Christopher. I told myself that if I could be happy with him, then I didn’t need them, but it didn’t work. I wasn’t happy. Chris is a good guy, but his reaction to me breaking up with him tells me that I was nothing more than a stop in the road for him. I wasn’t his home the way Dawson and Pacey are mine.
I stop and find myself standing outside Dawson’s house. I didn’t realize how far I’d walked and now my feet have carried me to the very place they always did. Home. My True North. Growing up, this house was as much my home as my own was. Sometimes even more. Bessie tried, but as a teenager, it was easier to be at Dawson’s than it was to be at the B&B. Even before we turned our house into a business, Dawson’s home was where I went to escape the drama of living with my sister and all the problems I faced at home.
I see the ladder that I climbed as recently as a few days ago and I can see shadows in his window. Both of my men are in there. I know their relationship is still strained because of me. Seeing them together, I wonder if maybe it is time I stopped running--time to end our sordid love triangle as Pacey so eloquently put it the other day.
Earlier today, Pacey told me he wanted me to be happy, and that is never going to happen if I don’t stop running—if I don’t take a chance.
Before I know what I am doing, I’m climbing the ladder and making my way into Dawson’s old bedroom. It takes me a moment to process what I am seeing. My men together. Dawson’s lips on Pacey’s. Pacey’s hands on Dawson’s ass. Both of them up against the poster for The Creek. It is rather ironic. Those characters who represent Dawson and me would never engage in such behavior. Up until a few seconds ago, I would have said the flesh and blood Dawson wouldn’t have been plastered against his former best friend. I would have been wrong.
I clear my throat and they break apart, turning to me.
“Is there something you’d like to tell me?”
I’ve been in this position before. With Jack. It hurt when he came out to me, but this—this has me feeling as if I am drowning.
“Get over here,” Pacey growls at me and I jerk my head up. As if of their own volition my legs carry me over to them until I am standing between them. This too is a familiar position. Then, Pacey is kissing me, and I feel like I’ve come home. It lasts forever and not long enough.
I barely get my breathe back before Dawson is kissing me. His hands cup my face and I feel Pacey’s lips on my neck.
Someone pulls off my shirt—I don’t know who—and the feel of their clothed chests against my bare one is more arousing than anything I’ve ever felt before.
Soon, we’re undressing each other, making our way over to the bed, and we’re all three kissing. Both of their lips are on mine and on each other’s’. They’re both so hard and I’m so incredibly wet. Whenever I imagined having them both, it was never like this. I never thought that they’d want each other as they wanted me.
My heartbeat pounds in my ears as Dawson kisses me again and I see Pacey moving down the bed, settling between my legs. I moan into Dawson’s mouth as Pacey sucks on my clit. I’m trembling so hard that the mattress shakes, but I quickly realize that it isn’t just me. It’s Dawson too. Pacey is working him too.
I look at Dawson and his eyes are rolling back in his head. Seeing his pleasure bumps up my own; I feel the orgasm building inside of me.
“Oh, no you don’t,” says Pacey, his mouth leaving the only place I want it to be. “Keep kissing him.” He turns to Dawson. “Finish her off. Use your fingers.”
We’re both surprised by this dominant side of Pacey. He was never like this before.
It takes a few seconds before Dawson acquiesces; his fingers seeking me out. The last time we did this he wasn’t very good. He’d only had one partner before me, and it obviously hadn’t given him much practice. There had to have been others in the last five years, but I don’t want to think about the women who helped him get better at this, so I keep kissing him until he finds the exact spot that sets me off.
My toes curl as pleasure swamps me. I cry out against his mouth and ride his hands to competion. As I come down, I finally realize that Pacey left the bed and has yet to return. I am starting to worry that he’s gotten cold feet when the door opens and he comes striding into the room, condoms and what I recognize as lube in his hands. He must have hastily put clothes on before leaving the room because as he closes the door, he quickly undresses again.
“Where’d you get those?” Dawson asks.
“Your mom’s medicine chest. I’m not going to think about why she has these things.”
I nod my agreement. Obviously, Gail and her new husband have sex, but the presence of lube indicates they have a kinky side and I draw the line at imagining my friend’s mother engaging in the kinds of sexual acts that involve the generous application of lubricant. The types of things we are about to engage in ourselves.
The three of us look at each other, silently communicating our shock at what we’re about to do. Then, Pacey comes back to the bed and kisses Dawson and me in turn.
We stay like that for a little while before Pacey yet again pulls away. I watch as he rolls the condom onto Dawson’s cock. He looks at me and says, “I want you to ride his dick while I take his ass.”
I’m startled even though I knew that’s why he brought lube when he went for the condoms, but then Pacey’s positioning Dawson at my opening and I take him into myself, watching as Pacey moves behind Dawson.
Dawson
“Have you done this before?” I ask Pacey before I can stop myself.
I’ve imagined this situation before. Hoped to one day find myself with my best friend and my first love. I never thought it would happen and if in some alternate universe where it was a possibility, I pictured it rather differently. I assumed that I would be the one topping Pacey, but a part of me is thrilled at the prospect of having him come inside me. Having him become a part of me. Just as I’m inside Joey. A part of her.
“Not exactly. But I did drunkenly ask Doug some questions a few months back and surprisingly he answered.”
He kisses the back of my neck and I feel it all the way to my toes. My cock hardens inside Joey. She moans loudly into my mouth as I kiss her.
“Let’s just say I know more about his and Jack’s sex life than I care to.”
It takes me a moment to realize that Pacey was still answering my question.
“I’m pretty sure I know the mechanics of the thing.”
He continues raining kisses down my spine and anchors his hands on my hips before bringing his mouth to my ass. He gently nibbles at me and I jerk back in surprised pleasure. My cock twitches inside Joey and between her movements and Pacey behind me, I feel like I’m going to come already.
When I feel Pacey’s tongue inside of me, I nearly lose it. The pleasure is nearly too much. He uses his fingers and tongue to stretch me. To make room for his cock. After a few minutes of this, he’s gone. I growl in annoyance, but it dies in my throat as I feel the lube hit my ass and hear the tearing of another condom.
“You’ll tell me if I hurt you?” He asks from behind me. The confidence and cocksureness he’d displayed earlier momentarily gone. I nod and I feel him against my back. He’s as hard as rock and big. So big that I briefly worry that this isn’t going to work. But then he’s kissing my neck again while Joey’s lips seek out mine, leaving only to reach around me and kiss Pacey. It is in this moment that I feel the final puzzle piece shifting into place. This. The three of us. Together. I’d dreamed it, but never thought it could happen. Now that it is, I can barely contain my joy.
Pacey pushes his way inside me, stretching me. Filling me. There is pain. Of course, there is pain, but there is also pleasure as he brushes against my prostate. It was more pleasure than I ever thought possible.
Soon the three of us are moving together. Moaning together as we come closer and closer to that precipice. I feel it the moment Joey’s orgasm hits her. She clenches around me, breaking as my hips piston on hers and I’m coming too. I spill into the condom, but I’m still half hard and quickly recovering. Pacey thrusts into my ass and I let out a growl as my ass muscles contract around Pacey’s cock. I’ve never felt anything like it. I’m coming again harder. Joey and Pacey are coming too. My world is complete.
I don’t know how long we stay like that—arms and legs wrapped around each other, too sated to move. I’m laying between them and it feels like home. It should scare me how right it feels, but it doesn’t.
Joey stirs on my right and I can’t help kissing her before turning on my side and kissing Pacey. It’s an odd feeling, knowing that I’ve denied a big part of myself for years and have now suddenly accepted it.
We’re still kissing—my mouth on Pacey’s, Joey’s on my neck—when my bedroom door opens, so the sound doesn’t register until Joey jerks back and the door slams shut again, my mother hurrying from the room.
“You didn’t lock the door when you came back to the room last night?” I ask Pacey, less worried about the fact that my mother found us all in bed together than I probably should be.
“Oops,” he says and the three of us start laughing. Not once when I was a teenager did my mother walk in on me with someone. The closest was the time she and my dad discovered Joey and me making out, but we were still clothed, and we were definitely alone. Finding the two of them and Pacey naked and in bed together with Pacey’s tongue down my throat, is probably something she never thought she’d see. It almost makes up for the time Pacey and I walked in on her and my dad having sex in the living room. Almost.
“Breakfast is going to be real awkward today,” I say to no one in particular.
“At least it wasn’t Lily looking to watch another Woody Allen movie with you,” Joey says that sexy half smile lighting up her face.
“You watch Woody Allen movies with your sister—what did Disney stop releasing movies?” Asks Pacey, laughing.
“Just Annie Hall.”
They look as me and we’re laughing again. Happiness was a living thing and it touched us all. Then, Joey broke the spell.
“What are we doing? Was this a tawdry one-night stand to put a point on the triangle we formed back in high school or is it something else? Something more?”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. This is classic Joey. “Do we really have to overthink and analyze this to death? Can’t we just take today and worry about the future another time?”
Pacey reaches around me and takes Joey’s hands. I hesitate for a moment before placing my hands atop theirs. “It’s time to stop running, Jo,” he says quietly. “This wasn’t some one-night stand for me, so I’m putting you back on that hook and never letting you go.” He looks at me. “Neither of you.”
She smiles, and her eyes light up. “I love you—both of you. I don’t want to let either of you go, but how is this going to work? None of us even live in the same city.”
“We’ll work it out eventually,” answers Pacey.
I shake my head. “Breathe deeply, Jo. We don’t need to worry about the future. Even if all we have is this moment, I want to be here. Now.”
She smiles again, and my own smile stretches across my face. Without looking at him, I know a similar smile is graces Pacey’s face. In this moment, I know everything is going to work out. We’ll deal with how another day. For right now, we are happy. And whole. Home.