Chapter Text
Follo doesn’t know what’s worse: the fact that his roommates are obviously fucking each other, or the fact that they’re clearly trying to get him involved in it.
He might be a little dense and kind of insecure but he’s not blind. Follo sees the way Jabber and Zanka look at each other. He sees how those looks sometimes slide over to him. Over his form. Dissecting him bit by bit, a little bolder every time. Daring him to acknowledge what they want from him. Waiting for an invitation.
When he gets home from a day out with Gris to celebrate his birthday, he’s met with the dorm decorated with simple party streamers and birthday balloons, Jabber and Zanka on the couch with two platters of brownies and some drinks.
“You didn’t have to,” Follo says, shucking off his coat at the door.
“We wanted to,” Jabber answers, a wide grin on his face. He’s looking at Follo in that way again, like he’s starving and Follo is a slab of steak. Zanka doesn’t look too different. He’s a little more subtle but there’s a sharp edge to the way his gaze follows Follo as he makes his way around the couch to sit with them. Like he’s anticipating something.
A cold shiver travels down Follo’s spine even though he’s drowning in a thick sweater. He recognizes the feeling of danger. They want something from him and it’s probably for the best that he doesn’t give it. He makes a point not to indulge because whatever Zanka and Jabber have going on is toxic and messy and something he can’t handle so he keeps himself at a distance. He’ll just keep it casual.
Or that was the plan, but then Follo had a drink and Jabber pressed a blunt to his lips and Zanka offered him a brownie with a candle shoved in it and all the drugs stirred courage in his stomach and now he’s making out with Jabber and he doesn’t want to do anything to stop it.
Zanka’s hand is in his hair, massaging his scalp with the dull edges of his manicured nails while Jabber works his mouth open. He feels sparks under his skin from all the touching and a whole different fire ignites when he feels the gentle press of his lips against his throat, a tongue poking against him hesitantly, searching for a reaction. Even if Follo had a reaction to give him, it would have been swallowed by Jabber with the way he’s eating Follo alive.
Follo has kissed a few people before and he’s had sex a couple of times since he’s gotten to college, but he feels like a dumb virgin as he lets Jabber maneuver him however he likes with a hand on his waist. It’s overwhelming. Jabber keeps kissing him, tongue exploring his mouth long after Follo has run out of breath. He tries to ask for a break in the tiny gaps between them when Jabber toys with his lip between his teeth, but all Follo can manage is a pathetic, overwhelmed whine.
The next time Jabber pulls away, Follo tilts his head to the side, seeking air and a second to just think. Figure out how he feels about this.
“Where ya going baby,” Jabber drawls, his voice a low rumble against Follo’s blushing cheek, “I ain’t done with you.”
Follo’s breath stutters. Oh my god I’m easy, he thinks as a hand grabs him by the jaw and turns his head. The room spins around him, a blur of gold party streamers and cheap balloons discolored by the flashing lights coming from the TV as a movie plays. All those colors melt into endless blue as Zanka forces him to face him.
“Let ‘im breathe,” Zanka hisses at Jabber, then his attention falls on Follo. “Yer okay?” He asks.
“Ohhh shit your pupils are fucking huge–” Jabber laughs. The loud cackle of someone that’s three edibles and two blunts into the night and made a joke that’s not even funny. Follo glances over at him to glare, still unable to move his head, but his noise fades to the background as Zanka’s thumb grazes back and forth over his jaw.
“Follo–” Zanka says. Follo’s attention snaps back to him.
“Good.” He aswers breathlessly. “Really good, please don’t stop.”
Zanka hums and drags a thumb over Follo’s kiss bitten bottom lip.
“‘S good,” Zanka says, “Ya want me to kiss you?”
Follo sighs, the simple thought of Zanka’s lips on him making heat drip to his groin. He shifts to get his legs in a more comfortable position as he grows hard. “Yes, please–” he begs before he can realize how pathetic it sounds, but Zanka seems pleased and he doesn’t call Follo out for being a complete loser so it’s fine.
Kissing Zanka feels different. He’s forward but not impatient. His lips move slowly against Follo’s, letting him adjust to the feeling and breathe when he needs to, but he’s the first to press his tongue to the seam of Follo’s lips, asking for permission.
Follo moans when Zanka’s tongue slides against his. He has no idea what to do with himself. Jabber’s running his hands up and down his waist under his shirt, occasionally digging his nails into his skin. He grabs impatiently at him, needily muttering something about “his turn” and “no fair.” Follo is a lot less focused on his words and a lot more concerned with the way the man is mapping out more and more of his skin under his shirt, teasing his nipples then ignoring them to drag his hands lower until he gets to the waistband of his sweatpants.
The most pathetic whimper leaves Follo when Jabber presses the heel of his palm against his erection. Fireworks explode behind his eyes as he bucks his hips unwillingly. He can’t even focus on kissing Zanka anymore with the way blood is rushing in his ears. His mouth hangs open uselessly while Zanka takes his tongue between his teeth.
Follo can’t think anything but, what the fuck as he feels literal sparks fly under his skin.
“Damn you’re sensitive,” Jabber teases, feeling the way Follo responds to every movement, “Is it because of the molly or because you're a virgin?”
Follo shoves at the hand that won’t leave him alone, “Fuck you I’m not–” he bites on a whine when Jabber palms him again, “not a virgin.”
Zanka jabs Jabber with his elbow and ignores the masochistic moan it pulls from him, “It’s his birthday, be nice.”
Jabber grins, a mischievous glint in his eye as he does the exact opposite of what Zanka says, pressing down on Follo’s dick so hard that he cries out. The tears that have been welling in his eyes finally fall, mapping a trail down the curve of his cheek. He’s not sure if he’s about to cum or burst or both.
Zanka wipes the tear away and clicks his tongue in irritation. He reaches out and grabs a hold of the ponytail Jabber’s wicks are tied back in and pulls hard. The guttural moan that’s punched out of him goes straight to Follo’s dick. If he wasn’t painfully hard before, he is now.
“Play nice,” Zanka hisses at Jabber again, shoving his head down against Follo’s stomach. Follo stares down at him with bleary vision and cotton in his head. He covers the lower half of his face with his palm to hide the blush that rises to his cheeks.
“Shit–” Follo mutters when Zanka pushes Jabber's head down so that his cheek is pressed against Follo’s erection. He feels the man shaking and it doesn’t take long for him to realize that Jabber is laughing. Here Follo is trying not to cum in his pants and that asshole is laughing.
“Ngh– that’s good, Zanzan. Keep pulling my hair like that, feels so fuckin’ good.”
Zanka scoffs, giving Jabber’s head a final push before letting him go.
“Tonight ain’t about ya,” he says, then he glances up at Follo to find him with a wrecked expression, practically shaking. He looks a mess, hair tousled, eyes red rimmed and lips swollen from making out with both him and Jabber. Zanka swallows and tries to keep his face neutral even though he wants to do so much to Follo right now.
“It’s yer birthday,” Zanka reminds him, like it’s something Follo could ever forget when he’s experiencing a birthday present like this, “tell us what ya want us ta’ do.”
Follo blinks dumbly. What he wants – what does he want?
“I dunno,” Follo mutters, glancing away from Zanka down at the tent in his pants, “I just– I want to cum so bad right now,” he admits. Humiliation floods him when Zanka doesn’t say anything to him right away.
Zanka clears his throat, making that goofy expression he makes when he’s trying to protect his pride and hide a smile.
“I bet ya do,” he says.
“Sorry, that’s kind of obvious isn’t it?” Follo chuckles weakly, his shoulders tensing and thighs shifting as he tries to hide himself as best he can without getting up and running away.
“Yeah, ‘s fine. Ya don’t gotta think about anything, jus’ relax.” Zanka presses his hand against Follo’s shoulder, kneading the muscle beside his neck until his shoulder slump in relaxation.
Follo nods, leaning back against the couch. He can trust Zanka to take care of him, he’s sure. He’s never not been able to trust him.
“So we’re done with the foreplay?” Jabber asks, stretching out his arms like he’s talking about a warm up at the gym and not a life changing moment for Follo.
Zanka hums, tracing the outline of Follo’s form with the hand that was on his shoulder. He pauses at his waist band, tracing a finger along the inside and looking up at Follo for his approval.
Follo nods and tips his hips off the couch for Zanka to pull his pants down. He’s not prepared for his boxers to come off too, leaving him exposed. His next exhale is shaky and weak. Jabber and Zanka are staring at him and he doesn’t know what to do about it. How to move. What to say.
“Someone please say something,” he murmurs, hiding behind his hand again. He’s leaking and redder than he expected he would be. Not the state he wants to be in when showing his roommates his dick for the first time.
“Sorry it’s just–” Zanka starts.
“Damn look at that curve, ” Jabber interrupts bluntly, dragging his tounge over his lips slowly, “and it’s big too. Good for you.”
Follo wants to kill himself. He looks at Zanka for help.
“We ain’t making fun of ya, we’re just kinda expecting–”
Jabber slides off the couch to the floor, shoving Follo’s legs apart. “Thought you’d be small honestly.”
“Wh– what is that supposed to mean?”
Zanka looks away from him and doesn’t respond, whether it’s shame or something else Follo really can’t tell right now. Jabber has no problem with answering for him.
“Ya kinda got small dick energy. Y’know, with that whole pushover personality trait of yours.”
Follo doesn’t want to unpack any of that right now. His pride is already weak as it is, he doesn’t need Jabber’s opinions on him to make it worse. Especially not while his dick is in his hand.
“But hey, we're wrong so ya don’t gotta worry about it!” He distracts Follo by pressing his thumb to the tip, biting on his lip as he watches precum bead up and leak down the shaft.
“Whatever,” Follo mutters, tilting his head back at the pleasure of having his dick touched, even if Jabber’s grip is a little too tight.
Jabber gives Follo’s dick an experimental tug and immediately finds that it’s too dry. Follo whines, his knee jerks into Jabber’s shoulder by reflex.
“That's too dry–” Follo mumbles.
“Yeah, I know that,” Jabber says. He pauses for a moment, quiet as he gathers enough saliva in his mouth that he can lean forward and spit on the tip. It’s not a lot but it doesn’t matter as Jabber takes him in his mouth anyway.
The visual of Jabber’s tongue flattened against the underside of his dick could honestly make Follo cum on its own. Not to mention the warmth and how wet it gets as he licks up and down. Jabber’s irises are swallowed by the size of his pupils as he wraps his lips around Follo’s dick and takes him as deep as he can. Even choking doesn’t stop him. Follo grips the sofa so hard he thinks he might put a hole in it.
Beside him, Zanka rubs circles on his lower back as he mouths at his neck. He works his way up to the sensitive skin behind Follo’s ear where he whispers, “Ya can fuck his face, if ya want to. Y’know pullin’ slappin’ and all that rough shit will motivate ‘im.”
Follo nods, he’s not surprised. He’s seen how Zanka handles him and how Jabber responds to all of it. It’s no secret he’s a masochist but Follo can’t imagine himself being the kind of person that feeds into that. He wouldn’t even consider it if not for the fact that Zanka places a hand over his own, tenderly guiding him to Jabber’s head. The man moans, looking up at them expectantly with his mouth stretched around Follo’s dick.
The only warning he gets is a sudden grip on his hair before Zanka is helping Follo control the pace, shoving Jabber’s head down until his nose is pressed against his navel and his throat convulses with the intrusion.
“Oh fuck,” Follo moans when he hits the back of Jabber’s throat. He can’t help but throw his head back, tucking himself into the curve of Zanka’s neck for comfort. He’s so warm everywhere he feels like he’s on fire. It feels like he just slid into a perfect fit, even as Jabber chokes on him. Tears well in his eyes, desperate sounds coming from Jabbers throat as his body rejects the intrusion. Magenta rolls back into white as he teeters on the line of pure pain and ecstasy.
“He needs to breathe,” Zanka reminds Follo calmly when the pushing has gone on for a bit too long.
Follo snaps out of his pleasure just before he can embarrass himself by cumming too fast, letting Jabber slide back and suck in much needed air.
“You totally forgot about me,” Jabber accuses between coughs, a crazed pleasure in his eyes. “Woulda killed me if Zanzan didn’t stop you. Fuck– you’re crazy too.” His laughs turn into another coughing fit.
“Sorry I didn’t mean to.” The apology is halfhearted and weak as Follo tries to think about anything to stop himself from cumming right now. He lightly scratches Jabber’s scalp the way Zanka did to him earlier, careful not to frizz up the loose hair at Jabber’s roots too much.
Jabber rests his head on Follo’s thigh, letting his breath catch up to him. “Nah, it reminds me of Zan’s first time.”
Zanka scoffs, ”If ya can breathe enough ta talk, ya can get back ta work.”
Jabber pouts, “Zanzan, there’s more than enough for us to share. Come help me. I can’t do all the work.”
Follo thinks that's a terrible idea. He could hardly handle Jabber alone. Both of them will kill him.
Zanka seems to think about it for a moment and Follo internally hopes he won’t, but he should have known he would never be that lucky. Zanka presses a final kiss to Follo’s lips before he sinks to his knees, coaxing Follo’s thighs apart a little wider to fit them both.
“Don’t pull my hair or I’ll kill ya.”
Follo nods slowly.
Jabber works on taking him with his tongue on his tip while Zanka mouths at the side of his shaft, getting a feel for his size and taste. He grows more confident, working Follo’s balls between his fingers while he wets his dick with his mouth. Zanka nudges Jabber out of his way so he can follow the trail of a vein.
Follo shudders, a weak whine of Zanka’s name falling from his lips. Jabber mirrors him, tongue working up and down, sucking occasionally, taking a moment to swirl at the tip where pre drips a lot more frequently. A knot forms in Follo’s abdomen, telling him that he’s close.
Zanka and Jabber meet at the tip, their tongues fighting for dominance until they’re all but making out over him. So much stimulation from everywhere has Follo tipping his head back and breathing heavy. Panting like he ran a mile.
“Fuck. Guys, –” He whines uselessly, “‘M getting close.”
The two pull away with a pop, a string of saliva connecting them to Follo’s drippling cock. Zanka presses his thumb into the mess, smearing it down to his balls. Follo sucks in a breath.
“I’m surprised ya even got this far,” Zanka teases. Follo would try to laugh, but he’s already struggling to breathe.
“Zanka–”
Zanka hums, “I know. I’ll take care of ya. Remember what I said?”
Follo tries to form a coherent thought through the arousal fogging his brain, “Uhm, don’t pull your hair, or you’ll kill me?”
Zanka smirks, “Mhm, good boy.”
Follo is thrust back into the feeling of a mouth around his dick, and it’s really no time at all before he’s teetering on the edge. Zanka doesn’t take him as deep as Jabber did, but he makes up for it by flicking his tongue in ways that have Follo seeing stars.
“Zanka,” Follo whimpers, “Ngh– Zanka I’m cumming-”
He taps Zanka’s shoulder, shoving when he really knows he’s about to cum and Zanka still hasn’t pulled off.
“I’m serious, please–”
Zanka responds by shoving Jabber out of the way to take more of him, and what doesn’t fit in his mouth he twists with his hand. Follo swears, back arching and hips bucking off the couch as he finally cums. He twists his grip on the back of Zanka’s shirt, writhing as he finishes in his mouth.
Jabber pulls away from the hickey he was sucking into Follo’s thigh without him noticing at the same time as Zanka pulls away from Follo with a pop.
Follo basks in the high for a few moments then he apologizes for finishing in Zanka’s mouth. Zanka ignores his apologies and pats his thigh, getting his attention for Follo to watch what he does next.
Zanka grabs Jabber’s jaw, coaxing his mouth open. He gets the hint, tilting his head back and sticking his tongue out. Follo watches Zanka position himself over Jabber, deliberately so that he can see the show, then he opens his mouth and spits Follo’s cum onto Jabber’s tongue.
“Swallow,” Zanka demands.
Follo watches with his mouth agape as Jabber genuinely does. It’s gross and crazy and degrading. He wonders what it says about him that he finds it so hot that he can feel heat simmering in his belly again.
Jabber looks up at him and sticks his tongue out, proving that he swallowed, which Follo didn’t need, but his cock does appreciate.
Follo isn’t sure if he’s just high or if his body is confused by the hottest blow job of his life or both, but he suddenly feels like he’s being heated from the inside out. Like someone just poured gasoline over a fire inside him. His vision swims, turning the living room around him into a warped fishbowl. He sits up and braces a hand against Jabber’s shoulder, blinking rapidly to bring some moisture to his dry eyes.
“Yo, are you good?” Jabber asks as Follo’s hand clumsily makes it’s way to cup his cheek. Follo stares blankly then hums.
“Never felt better, I think.” He answers hesitantly. His eyes are unfocused and the room is way too hot but he can’t bring himself to be mad about any of it. He stares at Jabber who looks all fuzzy around the edges through Follo’s glassy eyes. “Are you glowing?” He asks stupidly.
Jabber and Zanka share a look.
“Maybe we should call it a night,” Zanka suggests. He sits down on the couch next to Follo and places a hand on his thigh.
Follo frowns on him, “That’s not fair, I didn’t do anything for either of you.”
“It’s fine. This was your birthday present from us.”
Follo chews on the inside of his cheek, his gaze dropping to the floor, unfocused on some spot on the carpet. “So, this was just for today?” He sounds meek and if he didn’t feel like he was floating on a cloud in heaven right now, he would probably punch himself for asking something like that. What happened to not getting involved?
Jabber and Zanka share another look. This time Jabber is grinning and Zanka’s browns shoot up far enough that Follo notices before he can fix his face.
“Do you want it to be?” Zanka asks cautiously.
If Follo’s smart, he’ll button his pants up and drag himself to bed even though every one of his nerves is on fire right now. He’ll recognize this, whatever this is, as the mess that it will become and just turn away. He can still pretend that nothing happened and he’s sure Zanka and Jabber won’t push, but…
Unfortunately, Follo is a fucking idiot.
“No, I want–” he exhales slowly, “I want to do this again if that’s okay?”
Jabber snorts. “Nah, we been flirting with you for a whole semester for one blowjob,” He says sarcastically.
Follo blinks slowly. “Huh?”
“Jesus, I was being sarcastic. Yeah, we wanna fuck you again.”
“Oh,” Follo mutters, then the words sink in, and he sways until he falls against the back of the couch. He covers his face to hide the big grin on his face, but the giggling gives him away. Zanka and Jabber want him. Maybe it’s purely sexual, but that’s more than anyone has wanted him in a long time.
“We can talk about it more later,” Zanka says as he stands up. He’s got a hand around Follo’s bicep to hoist him up as well. “Let’s get you to bed, your crash is gonna suck tomorrow.”
Follo allows himself to be pulled to his feet but he pouts when Zanka tries to drag him to his room. “Are you both going back to your room?”
“No, I’ll come with ya in a minute. I just–” he glances at Jabber, who's moved to lie across the couch, “need to take care of somethin’ real quick.”
Zanka walks with Follo to his room. Really, Follo could do it himself – he’s not as drunk as he is high – but he appreciates the feeling of Zanka’s skin against his. Zanka promises he’ll be back in a minute after he drops Follo onto his bed. His blanket feels like a cloud under him as he sprawls out across it.
He stares up at the poster hanging over his bed. It’s a band he doesn’t particularly like but a friend from high school liked it, so he hung it up anyway. The vibrant colors bend and twist until Follo isn’t even sure what he’s looking at anymore. Follo watches the colors contort until Zanka comes back, Jabber in tow.
“Hey,” he mutters quietly but if he gets a response, he doesn’t register it. He’s floating in a limbo between being asleep and all too aware of all the feelings around him. His eyes fall closed and they stay closed as his bed dips on either side of him with the weight of his roommates.
Follo feels hands on him, wrestling his limp body out of his dirty shirt, jeans, and socks, then a blanket is thrown over him and everything feels hot but he’s too comfortable to complain about it. The last thing he registers is the soft press of something –lips– against him, then all his senses fade to black.