An impossible choice

"It's okay," I shrug, "go."

"I'm so sorry," he kneels in front of me, taking one of my hands in both of his. "Please, can we talk more soon?"

I nod. He nods back, and gives me a long, lingering kiss. He slides the office key off his keyring and hands it to me. "Take your time, lock up on your way out. I'll call you tomorrow," he promises.

Turning back at the door, he looks like he's about to say something else, but just smiles and walks off.

I fling myself back into the couch and sigh.

***

It's been almost 24 hours since my... ugh, what do I even call it? Event? Encounter? Experience? Well, whatever that was with Ryan, by now it feels surreal. Part of me is convinced I've imagined it. The cum I found in my underwear when I got home was real enough, but I've done laundry and when it's dry, there will be no trace at all of what happened.

He still hasn't called, which only serves to further convince me none of it was real. I imagined what being with Ryan would be like so many times, maybe this was just another one of those. A very vivid, technicolour, surround sound fantasy, but a fantasy nonetheless.

After delaying my plans yesterday, I'm back to my regularly scheduled pity party. I've not even bothered getting properly dressed - I'm lounging around my flat in leggings and an oversized tee shirt. I even had ice cream earlier, I'm being that cliché today.

Hey, give me a break, okay? The past two days have been insane.

First, Max... dammit, that one I know happened. No doubt about it. It was insane and unbelievable, but real. My heart flutters at the memory of the intensity of it, our hands pawing at each other, the animalistic growls that came out of us, how the orgasm rocked my body, how hot and bold and sexy and I empowered I felt when I made him cum... He somehow took all the ways he infuriates me and made them hot, and it's so confusing.

And then Ryan. Ryan, changing things up on me, showing me another side of him, being who I always wanted - knew - him to be. I bring my knees up to my chest and hug them tight as a wave of feeling passes through me, almost feeling the warmth of his body on mine again, the weight of him, the fusion of our bodies into one. I think... no matter what happens now, that's a moment I'll always remember.

I groan and lay my forehead on my knees. What are these men doing to me...

"Jesus fuck," I curse, nearly jumping out of my skin as the doorbell rings.

I go buzz the door open on autopilot - stupid broken intercom, it's probably just an Amazon delivery for someone - and head to the kitchen, putting the kettle on. A nice soothing cup of tea, that's what I need.

A knock draws me back to the foyer to open the door. That's weird, I don't think I ordered anything recently.

"Hi," Max is casually leaning on the doorjamb, arms crossed.

"Oh, hi," I reply on autopilot. Max is here. Max is in my flat. "Come on in," I offer, stepping back. I'm not sure why, but that's what people do, right? That's the normal social response in this interaction?

I shut the door and Max stands in the living room, looking completely at ease. My social circles are colliding, and it's weird - work and home, home and work, and sex thrown in the mix somehow - but it's also... not.

"What are you -," I start, at the same time as he says "I wanted to -," and we both chuckle.

"You first," I gesture.

"I wanted to apologise," he continues. "I don't think I handled it all that well, the other day. I was confused."

"Well, it was confusing," I reply, lamely. The silences stretches uncomfortably, finally broken by the whistle of the kettle. "Want a cup of tea? Oh wait, I forgot - you don't drink tea," I answer myself.

I head into the kitchen, grateful for an excuse to do something other than stand there like an idiot. "That's right," I continue, "you only drink coffee, or those energy drinks that stink up the whole office."

Why am I antagonising him? He's been nothing but lovely today. It's like I don't know how to interact with him unless I'm teasing and provoking him.

I make my tea and head back, setting it down on the side table and sitting cross-legged on the couch. Max is by my bookshelf, head cocked to one side to read titles off spines.

"Although, since we had the epic March-hot-drink-showdown, I did notice you've drinking those energy drinks in the kitchen a lot more often," I muse. "I'm sorry I've been such an asshole."

He turns and comes to sit next to me. "Oh don't apologise," he grins. "I love how animated you get. Plus, I tend to win our arguments--"

"You don't," I interrupt, taking a sip of tea.

"--so you can shout at me all you want," he finishes. A quick sniff and he asks, "Is that peppermint and orange?"

I smile and nod, "Impressive nose."

"It's your go-to when you need to think," he shrugs. "I smell it a lot at the end of each quarter."

"Huh, you're right," I realise. "I hadn't even noticed."

The silence stretches again, this time more comfortable, but I still feel the need to break it.

"Max, why are you here?" I wince. Wow, that was blunt.

"Heh, still a smooth conversationalist as always," he grins. "Straight to the point. That's very you." He turns to face me. He lifts his hand as if to place it on my knee, but seems to change his mind at the last minute and sets it over the back of the couch instead. "I had to see you. I... I missed you."

"Oh, so you wanted to, uh," I start, then blush as I realise I'm totally incapable of finishing that sentence out loud.

He rolls his eyes and stands up, taking a few steps away. "No, woman," he mutters, turning around suddenly to point at me. "I'm not here because I want to fuck you," he throws his hands in the air, "I missed you!"

I stand and raise my voice. "Well I don't know what that means," I reply, walking around the coffee table. "Two days ago you were yelling at me for listening to musicals!"

"And you were yelling at me for having post-it notes on my screen!" he replies.

"Okay, yeah," I continue, my voice rising again. "That's a good point, but that's not the point. I didn't show up at your flat saying I missed you. So, Max..." I step forwards, closer to him. "What does that mean?"

"Ugh, why can't you let anything go?" he growls, stepping closer to me. "You're so annoying."

"Why can't you say anything real?" I reply. "You make me so mad."

We look at each other, and I try to read his expression. There's something there, in the set of his jaw, in the way his nostrils flare, in the look in his eyes.

"You drive me crazy! Everything you do, the way you look, the way you smell, the way you sit right at the edge of your chair when you're excited about what you're working on, the way you move..." he trails off. "What we did meant something to me," he lowers his voice and his eyes. "I wanted to make sure you knew that."

Well, that was real. Maybe too real. I reach up to put a hand on his shoulder. "Max, I..."

The intercom buzzes, and I startle. "Leave it," Max implores, lifting his gaze to look in my eyes. "Leave it, tell me, what?"

I open my mouth to continue when the intercom buzzes again. I sigh and rise on my toes to kiss Max on the cheek. "One second," I whisper, before slinking away to the front door.

I take a moment to think, fingers still resting on the button. I'd never thought of Max in that way before. But now that I have... there is something between us. Something that's built over months of working next to each other, learning each other's quirks, tolerating them, growing to like them. I realise that whenever I shout at him, I'm not actually angry.

A knock on the door damn near makes me jump out of my skin. My heart hammering in my chest, I crack it open.

"Who the fuck..." my voice dies in my throat.

Ryan stands in front of me, holding a small bouquet of white flowers. "Thought I'd call the old fashioned way," he grins.

My eyes wide, I'm totally frozen. I literally don't think I can move - hell, I can barely breathe. Max and Ryan. Ryan and Max.

"Are you okay?" Ryan asks, pushing the door open and reaching a hand out to me. I step back reflexively, but my legs don't quite work and I stumble backwards, crashing into the shoe rack behind me.

"Ryan?"

Oh, crap.

"Max?"

The men stare at each other, none of us moving an inch. Then, slowly, both turn to look at me, questioning looks in their eyes.

"Um..." is all I manage.

Max sighs and turns back to the living room. "Come on, then," he calls back.

Ryan looks at me and I shrug. He hands me the flowers. "These look lovely," I murmur, going off to find a vase. When I come back to the living room, setting the flowers on a shelf, Ryan and Max are sitting next to each other, talking in hushed tones.

They stop when I step in, and look at me. Unsure where to sit, I opt to perch on the edge of the coffee table between them. "Soooooo..." I say, having no idea where to start.

"It's OK. We talked," Ryan says. "We know what's going on."

I blush and bury my face in my hands. "I'm so sorry," I mumble, "I didn't mean to... I have no idea how we got here."

"Hey," Max murmurs, "it's OK."

I risk a glance at them between my fingers. Their faces are unreadable, but I guess at least they don't have anger written all over them, either. "I hope you know I didn't want to hurt either of you."

"I think right now, we're more confused than hurt," Ryan says, then looks over at Max. "At least I am. This is all new territory for me."

Max nods. "Yeah, I don't really know how I'm feeling."

I take my hands off my face and grab the edge of the coffee table, leaning forwards. "Well that makes three of us, then," I chuckle. I look at them each in turn. "So, what happens now?"

The question hangs in the air ominously. "You are both important to me," I start, feeling foolish. Their eyes remain on me, serious, so I continue. "I mean, Max, I know we bicker, but I really do love working next to you, and my life would feel empty without you in it," I look at him, reaching out to touch his knee. He smiles and covers my hand with his. "But also, Ryan, there's just something between us, and I feel like I just found you, and I would hate to lose you," I carry on, looking at Ryan and shifting my leg so my knee rests against his.

I look from one to the other. Max, passion and fire, and Ryan, softness and fantasy, memories of both of their bodies swirling and colliding in my mind. If only I could have them both, some sort of Ryan-Max hybrid...

They glance at each other. Max raises an eyebrow, Ryan responds with two; Max cocks his head, Ryan does a little pout; Max shrugs, Ryan dips his head in a single nod. I look from one to the other like a tennis match. "Hey, stop this telepathy," I ask. "You can't leave what I just said hanging."

They shift further apart on the couch and Ryan pats the seat between them. "Come here."

I settle on the couch between them, sinking into the gap between the two larger couch cushions. Ryan puts his hand on my knee and I look to him. "It's up to you," he murmurs, "if you want to be with me..."

Max puts his hand on my other knee and I glance at him. "Or me," he continues, "or..."

My eyes widen and I look back and forth between them. "That's a pretty big or to leave hanging," I croak, my voice hoarse. "What are you saying...? What if I can't decide?" I ask.

Ryan gently pushes my face towards him, his fingers resting lightly on my cheek. "Then you don't have to decide," he whispers. Max leans in from the other side and kisses my neck and I gasp, closing my eyes.

With one hand each still on my knees, they slide their hands in to my inner thighs and pull my legs open. Ryan kisses me, and Max slides my shirt up to wrap his lips around one of my nipples, gently kissing it.

"Wait, wait," I say, breaking the kiss and standing up. "Are we really doing this?" I ask.

"Yes," Ryan answers, standing up, " but only if you want to."

I look at him - so perfect - and down to Max, still sitting on the couch. He stands up as well and cocks his head, like I've seen him do a thousand times at work. "Do you want us?" he asks.

"Yes," I breathe out, "God, yes."

Before I can say anything more, Max has swept me up into an embrace, and I wrap my legs around him. He carries me through to the bedroom and sets me down on the bed.

He steps back, pulling his shirt off and standing next to Ryan, already shirtless. I prop myself onto my elbows and take them both in - both breathtakingly gorgeous, and both of them looking at me. Ryan holds out his hand to pull me up to standing.

They both step in close to me, Max lying a hand on my shoulder, and Ryan on my hip. With a smile, Max tugs at the hem of my shirt and I lift my arms, letting him pull it off; Ryan hooks his fingers into the waistband of my leggings and rolls them down my legs, kneeling to help me step out of them.

He stays there on his knees in front of me, and runs his hands slowly up my legs, fingertips barely grazing the skin on the back of my thighs. I shiver and look down, only to see him grinning up at me. God but he looks good down there.

Max slides behind me and kisses my neck, his hands wrapping around me to softly cup and massage my breasts. I moan and throw my head back, giving him easier access.

Ryan pushes my legs apart gently and kisses the inside of my thigh - first one side, then the other - before moving to my pussy, his tongue gently reaching to part my lips.

"Oh god, Ryan," I moan. Max pinches my nipple, as if to remind me he's there too, and I gasp, my hand reaching up and behind me to bury my fingers in his hair.

Ryan's his tongue finds my clit, circling it, occasionally flicking at it. My legs shake and I lean back further into Max's arms, using him for balance - he takes each nipple between thumb and forefinger and rolls them, his teeth now nibbling at my ear. When Ryan slides a finger inside me, my left leg gives out and I fall, caught by Max holding on to me from behind and Ryan stopping to catch my hips.

They both chuckle and carry me to the bed. Still holding on to me from behind, Max turns to face the bed and sets me down, my knees coming up under me to support my weight. I lean forwards, pressing my face into the mattress, as Max softly caresses my ass with his hands before pulling my cheeks apart.

He sets the tip of his cock against my pussy and I push back into him, helping him reach inside me. His fingers dig into my thighs as he holds on to me.

The mattress shifts and I push myself up onto my hands, finding Ryan in front of me. He's pulled off his trousers and kneels there in all his glory, naked and perfect.

I wrap my fingers around his cock and look up at him as I gently lick the tip. He throws his head back and my lips close around his cock. He arches his back, pushing his cock out towards me and tangles his fingers in my hair.

I close my eyes and let them take over, Max thrusting into me from behind, his hands holding on to my hips, pushing my body forwards onto Ryan's cock. I don't have to decide, I can have them both, Ryan and Max, Max and Ryan, and I moan in ecstasy at feeling them both inside me at the same time.

Ryan groans and pulls his cock out, sitting down on the bed. Max pulls out behind me and I gasp, suddenly empty, desperate to feel them again.

I crawl forwards and Ryan reaches to grab my waist, pulling me until I'm straddling him. His cock is slick with my saliva and my pussy is dripping wet, so I lower myself onto him easily.

I lay my hands on his chest for balance and bounce on his cock a few times, but he reaches up and pulls me down with a hand to the back of my neck, his other arm wrapping around my back tightly, crushing my chest to his.

I feel movement behind me and turn my head, pressing my cheek to Ryan's chest. Max is kneeling behind me, between Ryan's legs, holding his cock, still glistening in my juices. He puts a hand on my ass and Ryan slows down, then stops, still buried inside me.

A pause. Max waits for a sign from me. I nod and manage to whisper a yes in between ragged breaths.

Max grins and spits on his hand, rubbing it gently to my asshole, probing a finger inside. I gasp as he stretches me, already full from Ryan's cock, and rock my hips back and forth. Max slides a second finger in and pumps in and out a few times.

Finally, he sets the tip of his cock against my asshole and pushes in. I groan and bury my face in Ryan's neck, my hand reaching to grasp his shoulder for stability. He sets a hand on my back and one on the back of my head, stroking my hair and cooing reassuringly in my ear.

"Shh, it's OK, I've got you" he whispers, "we've got you..."

I sigh and relax, and Max pushes in another inch. He pulls out a fraction and pushes in further, in and out, slowly working his way in. Ryan, still holding on to me, starts moving again too, synchronising with Max.

Soon they're both thrusting in and out, and I can feel their cocks brush past each other, not giving me a moment's respite, tension building as they hit every sensitive part of me.

The sensation is exquisite, confusing, intense, and my body goes limp trying to keep up. All I can feel is them, their hands, their cocks, I don't know who is who anymore.

Tension builds, more and more, and I dig my nails into someone's shoulder - Ryan? Max? I don't know - holding on for dear life, my toes curling and my eyes rolling back in my head.

A scream sounds out, animalistic, wild, feral, and it takes me a second to realise it's mine, the orgasm rocking my body, waves of electricity shooting up from my core to my extremities.

They respond to my scream, guttural growls echoing each other, and as my pussy and ass rhythmically clench around their cocks, soon Ryan and Max tense up and freeze, almost simultaneously shooting their cum inside me.

We collapse in a heap, panting and gasping for air. Max pulls out of my ass and rolls to the side, and I gingerly slide myself off Ryan.

I lie on my back between them and they turn on their sides, each nuzzling their head into either side of my neck, Ryan resting a hand on my chest while Max covers my stomach. I look over to one, then the other, and giggle.