Chapter Text
Gerry obviously did not have a good day, Jon thinks to himself, coming through the front door.
The flat itself seems still and empty, but the remains of a large canvas litter the studio space where Gerry paints, and other random detritus is scattered around chaotically.
He's never actually seen Gerry lose his shit and throw a tantrum (the goth’s own words) but he had warned both of them that sometimes he just… snaps. Jon sighs, sympathy and concern sitting heavy in his chest.
He searches, but Gerry isn’t at home and doesn’t answer the phone when Jon’s calls. He eventually finds the phone, on charge under the bed in the loft, but his boyfriend is nowhere to be found.
Knowing there isn’t anything he can do, Jon makes a pot of tea and settles down to wait. It isn’t very often that he finds himself at home alone these days, considering his two live-in partners are both home far more often than he is. He remembers the long years that he lived alone and is content to know that Martin will be here soon, and the three of them will work everything out together.
Eventually.
Probably.
He hopes.
When Martin does arrive, he whistles and eyes the trashed art nervously. He drops his bag under the entrance table, hanging his keys, jacket and scarf on the hooks by the door.
"What happened?" He asks, running a hand through his lovely pink curls, ear piercings glinting in the late afternoon sunlight.
"I'm not sure," Jon mutters, biting his lip. "It was like that when I got here, and Gerry is nowhere to be found."
"He hasn't texted all day," the other man observes as he lays down, head in Jon's lap.
"He left his phone here. Do you think we should be worried?"
Martin hums speculatively. "Well, it's hard to say. Everything could be fine and he'll just turn up in his own time."
"Or…" Jon prompts, running his fingers through Martin's curls. They're right there, after all.
"Or he needs us but we have no way of knowing. There's nothing we can really do either way." He reaches up a hand to stroke Jon's arm soothingly. "Let's just see how things go, he's a big boy and knows where we are if he wants us."
Martin puts on the TV and Jon pretends to read his book, but really they're both just waiting. Gerry has never been one to disappear, even in the midst of arguments, and they hope he's just going to walk through the door at some point like everything is fine.
Later, after they've had dinner without him, Gerry arrives looking tired and pinched but healthy enough. He ignores the studio side of the big space, keeping his eyes focused on his lovers, walking up to stand before them.
Martin pauses their movie, and Jon gets up to go to him.
"Sorry about the mess. And leaving my phone here. And-" He starts, eyes focused on the floor.
His hands fidget nervously and Jon reaches out to take them. "Don't worry about any of it. How are you?"
Gerry just shrugs and the smaller man tugs him into his arms, wrapping him up as tight as he can manage. He sinks into the embrace, the tighter Jon holds him, the more tension he releases.
Martin watches, an understanding of Gerry's current state settling in him. He remembers Gerry once telling him how little he was feeling pushed past his limits since they all started seeing each other and wonders how guilty he must feel that they have to be a part of this breakdown now.
That could all be projection, of course. Martin hates nothing more than having witnesses to his depressive episodes, but he can also admit how much faster he works through them now that he allows his partners to care for him when he can't care for himself.
"I'm going to have a cigarette, okay?" Gerry tells them.
Jon nods, reaching up to offer a kiss. They sink into it for a moment, mouths moving together intently. There is a vague edge of desperation on Jon’s end, relief and anxiety mixing unhelpfully now that Gerry is back where he can see him and hold him. They move apart, Jon settling back on the sofa with Martin.
Gerry also bends down to kiss Martin, and he takes a fist full of black shirt to hold him close for a longer moment.
"I'm glad you're home." He whispers, Dom tone edging out slightly. Gerry's pupils contract and his breath stutters, and Martin has his answer about what kind of care his lover needs. "Go have your cigarette. Change, check your phone."
He nods and straightens, looking Martin in the eye intently. Attention now focused elsewhere, he wanders off to settle himself back into his own skin.
"Really?" Jon asks, skepticism clear. “This is a time for sex?”
"We'll see." Martin tilts his head consideringly. "Want to join?"
Jon takes a moment to think about it, a desire to better understand Gerry’s psyche warring with a current disinterest in sexual contact. "I think I'd like to watch."
Martin chuckles. "Curiosity killed the cat, Jonathan."
"And satisfaction brought it back."
Gerry stands at the bedroom window, smoking his cigarette. There's nothing particularly interesting to see on his phone, now that he's home with the only people he really wants to talk to.
Still, he laughs at a meme from Tim, replies to a message from Sasha, lets Melanie know he'll call her back another time.
He tosses the phone aside, hot knot of anxiety pulsing in his chest. He strips out of most of his clothes, and washes his arms and face. Makeup and old paint flow down the sink, and he wishes he could pour his issues away so easily.
He wants to break something.
But he already did.
He wants to break himself.
But he already tried.
He wants to cry.
But the tears won't come.
He wishes, not for the first time that day, that he could burn away the part of his brain that enjoys feeding him lies and toxins. He shudders at how often it sounds like his mother.
Martin is standing in the doorway when Gerry straightens up, and their eyes meet in the mirror.
He turns, leaning back, hands gripping the counter behind him. Martin approaches, standing close but not touching, drawing out the anticipation of a first touch in the way that he loves to do.
Gerry presses his eyes shut, glorying in the moment of mixing body heat and igniting chemistry. He wishes he could drown in this feeling, hopes this moment never ends, and yet can't wait for the first touch of skin on skin.
"Colour?" Martin asks very significantly.
Gerry understands that is for more than the first touch he's anticipating. "Green."
His lover presses into his space, hands framing his hips and chests pressing together warmly. They kiss, and Martin finds Gerry's hands behind him and leans them down onto the counter. He groans at the mild restraint, leaning into the kiss insistently.
They separate, briefly touching noses sweetly, in contrast to the growing heat between them.
"You want to be restrained?" Martin inquires.
Gerry nods, and then remembering he has to give verbal consent, "Yes, even more than I could have guessed."
"You could have called me." The scolding is light, but firm. Martin looks him in the eye. "I would have come to get you. Always."
Gerry shakes his head, lip caught between his teeth. "I know, I'm sorry. I wanted to. I tried to come to the bookstore but I couldn't walk through the door and bother you. Same with Jon."
Martin actually growls, deep displeasure obvious. "We'll talk about that later, but don't think you're getting away with it." He leans forward, pressing a kiss to Gerry's clavicle. "Can I fuck you too?"
"Yes please."
"Jon wants to watch."
"Fine by me."
They kiss again, this time more messily, and Martin releases Gerry's hands for a moment so they can grip and explore one another for several wild moments.
They stumble out to the bedroom, and Martin strips Gerry of his briefs. He sits back on the bed, looking over to find Jon perched on the window bench comfortably.
"Can I come over?" He asks, and they both nod.
Jon sits behind Gerry on the bed, and he leans back in the circle of his arms. They kiss, upside down, for a few slow minutes, soft and through.
"You're always managing to get naked, darling." Jon whispers to him, as if it's a brand new revelation.
"Don't you prefer him that way?" Martin asks conspiratorially, from where he's preparing the necessary supplies.
"Hmmm, he is very nice to look at. Almost like a work of art himself." Jon smiles down at him.
It's almost physically painful to accept anything complimentary in his current state, and he considers asking them to stop, but doesn't want Jon to move away. Instead, Gerry kisses him again, until a strong hand tugs his ankle insistently and he moves back down the bed towards Martin.
He kneels at the edge of the bed, back to Martin, facing Jon where he watches from the top of the mattress. He holds his hands out behind him, and Martin brings the soft rope up to start.
At the first touch of the restraints, Gerry physically relaxes. It's palpable the way he simply transfers his trust over to Martin and releases his tension. By the time he's fully tied, he's practically boneless, leaning back into Martin's chest as he tightens the final knot. He tests his mobility and makes sure nothing is pinching, but everything is good.
It's not a complicated set of knotwork, since Martin is still learning, but Gerry fucking loves it. He also looks magnificent, the lines and angles of his body bisected and framed by the geometry of the restraints.
One hand wraps around Gerry's throat, and Martin brings his face around to kiss him. It's the kind of slow, erotic kiss that fills the whole room with static energy, electricity building around them.
Jon loves to watch them for exactly these sorts of moments. To feel a part of precisely this sort of intimacy. He wishes that he could show them what they look like, the energy they exude, so that they can understand the magnetism of their connection, the way he sees it.
I guess I could show them. That's why cameras were invented. Jon thinks to himself. It seems rude to interrupt their moment to ask though.
"Something wrong, Jon?" Martin asks gently, as aware of his audience as he is of Gerry.
"No! Everything is great." He snaps back into the moment, flushing. "You two look spectacular like this, you know."
"Do you hear that?" Martin whispers to his captive partner, pressing kisses along his neck. "We look spectacular together."
"I wanted to show you, that's what I was thinking about." Jon confesses.
Martin raises an eyebrow, although Gerry seems too blissed out to pay much attention to him right now.
"Gerry," Martin focuses him. "Jon wants to take photos. Colour?"
Gerry blinks, coming back up to consider for a moment, "Green, for now."
"We can always delete them later." Martin agrees.
Instead of reaching for his phone, as expected, Jon gets up and heads into the walk in closet. He gets the camera Gerry keeps for art portfolio work, and comes back with it turned on and ready. They’re kissing again, the same as before.
Martin stands at the edge of the bed, fully dressed still, one hand on Gerry’s hip, the other gently wrapped around his throat. Gerry kneels, nude and bound, leaning back into his chest trustingly, twisted around so that their lips press together and their tongues can tangle messily.
Jon moves around them, taking the photos from several angles. He doesn’t know if the lighting is right, or if the settings are good, but he doesn’t worry himself with it, just enjoys his part in the scene for the time being.
“Ready?” Martin whispers, and proceeds to rearrange Gerry when he nods an affirmative. He ends up leaning slightly against the pillows and headboard, twisted to the side so that his bound hands aren’t directly beneath him. Jon snaps a picture of Gerry looking right at him, a soft smirk on his beautiful face.
“Having fun?” Gerry asks, following Jon’s movements as he takes a few snaps of Martin stripping.
“Very much so,” he mutters distractedly as Martin winks at him. “Do you mind if I talk?”
Jon would normally ask Martin, but he looks to Gerry, this scene more about him than anything else.
Gerry can hear the unspoken ‘and ask questions’ and chuckles at him, eyes fond. “If you want to. I’ll let you know if it gets too much.”
“Did you pick what you want Martin to use on you?” He starts, watching intently as Martin starts getting into his strap on.
"No, he's going to choose." Gerry says vaguely. He would seem sleepy, except Jon understands this is more a kind of relaxed submission.
"He doesn't want to have to think right now. He knows I'm going to take care of him." Martin asserts. "Want to submit a suggestion?"
Jon walks over to peer into the drawer they use for their sex toys. He lets out a shocked laugh. "I didn't realise we had so many."
"There are plenty of options if you're ever interested in having me fuck you." Martin whispers in his ear, looming over his shoulder to consider the many dildos. "What do you think?"
Jon considers the times he's watched them do this. He wants to ask a series of careful questions to choose exactly the right one, but knows that Gerry is waiting, and doesn't particularly like feeling excluded.
"That one," he utters, pointing to a long green one with a series of waves texturing the shaft. Jon isn't an expert, but it's bigger than his own dick, which Gerry has always enjoyed very well, and he thinks the interesting shape will work for hitting the right spots inside of him.
"That's his favourite," Martin murmurs approvingly, picking it up and slotting it through the ring of the strap on.
"What's that one for?" Jon asks, pointing to a frankly ridiculous thing, way larger than anyone could ever reasonably want, he thinks.
"That's what we use when we want Gerry to cry." He responds, chuckling quietly.
"I could cry right now." Gerry tells them, perking up.
"Nope," His Dom tells him, pulling Jon back towards the bed. "I'm in charge right now. No one asked you."
"You asked Jon," Gerry pouts.
Martin leans over him, and bites the offending lip. "Jon and I are much better at taking care of you than you are."
Gerry still looks petulant, but doesn't argue. Jon takes a photo, intent on the way Martin looks at him.
Martin shifts around, so that he has access to the part of Gerry he wants, and starts working him open on his well-practised fingers.
The first goes easily, and then the second makes Gerry’s teal eyes roll up into his head. He works the two together intently for a while, working them up to the knuckle and spreading them open inside him.
Gerry starts to shift frantically when a third finger is added. He twists fully onto his side, which only gives Martin better access to work him open wide.
Jon puts the camera down, more interested in just watching now- and maybe kissing Gerry, who has started biting his lip very fetchingly.
“Can I touch you?” Jon queries, lying down facing him.
Gerry opens his eyes and focuses on his partner intently. "Please."
He can't really move much, but he leans into Jon and their lips touch softly. It's a bracing contrast to where Martin is laying him open close by, and it only makes all the sensations move visceral to him.
Jon wraps his arms around Gerry, enjoying the sensation of crowding around the bigger man for once, while his arms are restrained and most of his focus is elsewhere. The kiss is sloppy really, with Gerry panting and pausing to moan and Jon just pushing further and further into his space. It makes it fun and hot, even if Jon isn't particularly interested in getting off, rather enjoying simply being involved in the intense moment.
Martin pauses in his own work, watching them make out for a moment, a smile spreading across his face at the unusual tableau. He grabs the camera from nearby and captures them, one naked and bound, the other dressed and curled around him, faces pressed together intently.
Gerry notices first, unsurprisingly, and grins when he sees the camera out again. "I thought I was getting fucked?"
He leans down between them, kissing first Jon and then Gerry. "You'll get fucked when I'm good and ready, darling."
Jon chooses that moment to excuse himself, taking the camera and sitting back down in his original position by the window.
Martin repostions Gerry again, face down this time, legs spread and face turned to the side on a pillow.
"Colour?" He checks, rubbing a hand up and down the contour of his spine over the ropes, tracing the line of eyes inked there.
"Green." He wiggles his ass enticingly, smirking on Martin over his shoulder.
"The more impertinent you are, the longer I'll make you wait," Martin whispers, shifting down to bite his ass. He gets distracted, sucking a hickey there, and then several more along his thighs. By the time he straightens, Gerry is panting and shuddering, desperate. Just the way he likes him.
"Martin," Gerry drags his name out, shifting restlessly.
Martin shushes him, sliding on the lube and lining up the strap-on at last. He pushes in enough that Gerry knows it's in place, then pauses a moment to check on him again.
When he gets another green, he pushes the head in. Gerry groans and shudders, shifting his hips around as much as he can manage, bound and arranged as he is.
Not to be rushed in his work, Martin takes his sweet time, pushing in a little further before rocking back and then in, deeper and deeper each time. By the time he's seated all the way, Gerry is incoherent and practically sobbing.
"Looks like this one can make you cry just fine, sweetheart." Martin remarks, picking up a strong rhythm.
"I think-" He starts, before pausing to gasp at a particularly good impact, "it's you that makes me cry."
Martin hums proudly, reaching forward to grasp Gerry's bound hands in one of his. He keeps up the movement for long moments, listening to him fall into incoherent pieces in front of him.
The apex of each thrust pushes the base of the dildo against his clit just enough to make it fun, although not enough to distract him. Still, the scene is erotic and Gerry is stunning, and he is soaking wet and clenching around nothing.
Gerry, on the other hand, is going to come just like this, even if Martin has to fuck him forever. His far over-sensitive cock brushes against the pillow under his hips, and it's just enough that his edge is within reach with the penetration to drive him along.
Martin adjusts his hips minutely, catching him even more firmly in the prostate and Gerry let's out a garbled scream that might be his name. His hips jerk into the mattress several times, and he comes in a rush of blissed out profanities.
Martin slows, but doesn't stop for a good while. He's still shifting gently inside Gerry as he pulls on a convenient rope and loosens his hands.
"Enough, please," Gerry mutters, "I'm wrecked."
"Just the way I like you." Martin pulls out and unclips the cock in short order, tossing it aside.
He kisses Gerry's skin as it comes free from the binding, murmuring praise and sweet words to him. Even Martin is mostly incoherent at this point, but the intent stands.
Jon is standing at the edge of the bed with a washcloth when he's done removing the ropes, and he takes them and puts them away while Martin hauls Gerry up into a temporary sitting position. They clean up quickly, Gerry's limbs like jelly.
"Hi," the goth whispers, sinking into Martin's embrace. The sway, kneeling on the bed, until Jon joins them again.
They all lie down, and the pair of them bracket Gerry in between their bodies, all tangled pleasantly.
"Good for you?" Martin asks, Gerry tucked into him.
"Fuck, yes." He responds dazedly.
"Jon?"
"I enjoyed my part very well, thank you." Jon grins at them, completely cognizant.
Gerry jerks in their grip, eyes snapping open. "You didn't come." He says, reaching for Martin intently.
"Shhh, I'm fine." Martin laughs, soothing him. "You can make it up to me later. Besides, I think I've had about three times as many orgasms as you have since we've been sleeping together."
"God," Gerry groans into his chest. "I can't imagine having three orgasms every time we have sex."
"Exactly." He grins at Jon over Gerry's shoulder, who's laughing into his fist silently. "Just relax, my love. We've got you."
Gerry hums, settling back until he's boneless and content. Jon and Martin talk quietly for a while, until Gerry is properly passed out, then they clean up quietly and get ready for bed.
"He really did need that, didn't he?" Jon asks, perplexed and somewhat awed.
Martin shrugs, smiling. "He likes it, and it's good for his anxiety to feel completely reliant on someone else. A lot of sex is about the kind of relief you can't find in normal daily life."
"We're just really good for each other, aren't we?" He whispers, and Martin reaches over to pull him into his arms. He is still mostly naked, an intimacy that Jon favours, especially in non-sexual moments.
"Somehow we're perfect together, even though we're all rather disastrous apart."
Jon kisses him sweetly, standing in the middle of the dark bedroom, their lover asleep close by. "I love you, Martin. I somehow love you even more when you love him so well."
Martin smiles, pressing their foreheads together. "I love you both too. It's easy, really."
They curl back up in bed, Gerry between them, and sleep with him safe where they can keep him close.
***
Gerry groans as he comes to. There's a persistent beam of sunlight in his eyes, and he's on the wrong side of the bed, in Jon's normal place.
"Good morning," Martin tells him cheerfully.
The goth opens one bleary to look at him, finding him on his phone. His pink hair is tousled and he's pleasantly shirtless, moon tattoo on display. Gerry reaches over and runs a finger over it, and Martin uses the arm to drag him in for a cuddle.
He must fall back asleep, curled in the circle of his lover's arms, because he wakes again to find Jon leaning over them. "I'm off to work."
"It's Saturday," Gerry tells him, confident in his semi-unconsciousness.
"It's Wednesday, love." Jon corrects him, pressing a warm kiss to his mouth. He shares a much dirtier kiss and a knowing smirk with Martin, and then he's off, whistling his way down the stairs.
Gerry squints at his remaining lover. "Isn't it a bit early for him to be leaving?"
Martin hums, "There's some sort of emergency, he has to go in now."
He smirks again and Gerry waits. "He let me give him a blow job before he went in the shower though."
Gerry grins at him, settling firm against his side. Martin tosses his phone aside, tucking himself around him.
"Are you okay?" He whispers eventually, the anxiety of the previous day still sticking to his ribs.
"I'm fine now. I just-" Gerry cuts off and takes a deep breath. They shift around until they both lie on their sides, facing each other. "I just let myself get overwhelmed and then I snapped. It's so stupid, the painting was almost done and now I have to start over from scratch."
"It's just a painting, love. It's not as important as you or your mental health." Martin cups his check sweetly, their eyes meeting. "It's not as important as us knowing how you are and being able to find you if you need us."
Gerry frowns, ashamed. "I know. I knew as soon as I realised I didn't have my phone that I had fucked up. I shouldn't have let you worry, but it's a compounding issue, you know? I knew I was worrying you both, but I was scared to come home and find out how angry you really were."
"We're not angry," Martin assures him, kissing him softly. "We know you can take care of yourself, but try not to leave us hanging again, okay? We love you."
Gerry nods, and they cling together for a long time, just breathing together and seeing who can hold on the tightest.
"Don't you have to get to work?" Gerry queries, squinting at the clock again.
"I took the day off." Martin tells him, smiling beatifically.
Gerry sits up abruptly, and he shifts over onto his back. He rests his hands behind his head, grinning up at his bemused boyfriend.
"Why? How?" he demands.
"Well, Jon wanted to stay home with you, so then I arranged for Tim to manage the store so I could stay with you as well…" Martin trails off, shrugging. "Now Jon has to go to work, but he's going to try to get back early."
"But why?" Gerry asks again, a small frown line marking his forehead.
"You know how you come into the bookstore and drink tea and read books for hours at a time?" He asks in return. Gerry nods. "And how you go into the library and ask Jon for obscure reference books, even though we all know you could Google it much more easily?"
By now Gerry is blushing fiercely, but he nods again.
"We want to stay with you for the same reasons you do those things. Because we love you, and we like to be with you when you need us or want us. It goes both ways, you know."
"Oh." He mutters, succinctly. "Well, in that case, I think I shall keep you here all day long."
Gerry tosses his long frame rather preciously over Martin, laying atop him and resting his head on the other man's chest.
He huffs slightly, but seems happy enough with the arrangement, running one hand through Gerry's long messy hair. It's black now, with the hint of roots, and Martin sometimes misses the early days of their relationship, when it seemed like Gerry's hair was a different colour every time he walked through the bookstore door to visit him.
He shifts around a bit, to reach up and kiss Martin. He’s still charmingly heavy with sleep, and it has a dreamy sweet quality that morning kisses often do.
After quite a while, Martins shifts his legs so that his knees bracket Gerry’s hips, sliding an insistent hand up into his hair and biting his bottom lip.
Gerry groans and shifts his hips so that his erection presses into the cradle of Martin's thighs. He lifts to meet the contact, gasping as the pressure hits him in the clit.
"Oh fuck," Martin's eyes roll back in his head as Gerry kisses his checks, his neck, finally biting him on the shoulder, all the while grinding his hips into Martin insistently.
"You're wound up tight, aren't you?" Gerry asks, running his nails along his scalp in a very nice way.
"Fuck off." Martin responds, flipping their positions and straddling him instead. "You and Jon both got taken care of in the last twelve hours, you know. In fact, you got fucked until you couldn't string a coherent sentence together."
"Yes I did, and it's just wrong that you got left out." His lover smirks and pulls him back down to kiss him chaotically, grabbing his ass and encouraging him to continue the grinding action.
" Wrong is a bit of an exaggeration," Martin laughs, each word interrupted by another kiss. "You could do more getting off, less teasing though."
"Happy to oblige." He grins, lifting his hips up to meet Martin's movements.
He's still completely naked from the night before, although Martin is wearing underwear he suspects might be ruined after this. A hand slips down the back of them, and Gerry thrusts one finger inside him slowly. It's a strange angle, but between that and the hard pressure on his clit, Martin spirals out of control, orgasm hitting him hard.
"That was so good," Martin chokes out, Gerry holding him firmly against his chest through the aftershocks.
"Another? I can go down on you." Gerry grins, his oral fixation showing.
"I was actually hoping for sex," he responds, flushing a bit. Outside of his Dom role, his usual sexual forcefulness is lacking and he flounders a bit.
"Which position?" Gerry asks, already working to get Martin naked.
He laughs at the willing excitement. "Just like this."
There's a shuffle as they work to get his underwear out the way, and Gerry shifts to sit up somewhat against the headboard. It's a better angle for Martin when he kneels back over his hips, both of them able to move easily with their hips and legs.
Gerry kisses his neck, sucking and biting as Martin takes his cock in hand. He runs his hand up and down around it firmly a few times, Gerry biting him harder as he groans.
They kiss as Martin sinks down over him, clenching down around the hard length of him. They moan together, into the slick warmth of their mouths, as Martin starts rocking into him.
"God, I love this." Martin gasps out, Gerry thrusting up to meet him.
"You're so fucking incredible like this," he responds, breathless and panting.
They move together, Gerry hitting every place inside of him as their hips crash together at the apex of each movement. Martin is full and stretched and he glories in the way they fit together like puzzle pieces.
He sometimes wanders that Gerry, incredibly kinky and horny, could identify as demi. The proof, though, is in the constantly building heat between them, becoming more and more intense as Gerry falls more in love with him all the time.
Martin leans back slightly, and Gerry slides his hand down between them, his thumb rubbing insistently down in his clit. He yells out, right on the edge, and the pressure slows, Gerry edging him wickedly.
"That's just mean." Martin sobs out. "You're such a tease."
Gerry laughs a bit manically. "You shouldn't let me be in charge, baby."
"In that case…" He takes both of Gerry's hands, threading their fingers together and holding them above his head against the wall.
Martin slows his movement, sliding back and forth. The new position means his clit hits against Gerry's hips in a way that makes his eyes roll back and he moans out, inner muscles working on Gerry in tandem.
They come almost simultaneously, Martin's orgasm triggering Gerry's, and they're left panting and still as they try to recover.
"You good?" Gerry asks as they slide down onto their sides, spooning together.
"So good," Martin pants out, bringing the back of his hand up to press a soft kiss there. "I love you."
"I love you too." Gerry murmurs the words into the back of his neck, arms wrapping around him fervently.
They lie together until their breathing slows, and then longer still, until they fall back asleep in their messy bed, tangled together contentedly.