The swimsuit on your body was distracting Art and Patrick, to say the least. Both boys' eyes glued to your figure as the droplets of water cascaded down your skin, the smell of the sea mixed with sunscreen filled their noses as they laid on the sand. Soaking up the sun rays at the end of June, during the final summer the three of you would spend in Florida together.

The way your lips wrapped around the strawberry as you took a bite had Art biting back a moan as Patrick's hands to move to readjust his swim trunks. They're both thinking the same lewd thoughts, yet they can't tear their gazes from you to notice the other staring at you with the exact same intensity.

It wasn't new, the feelings they were experiencing for you in this moment. Just never this intense. They'd spent years with you, at the academy, seen you through ups and downs. The three of you were friends, best friends. Which is probably why neither of them had made a move on you, or so much as confessed their feelings about you to each other. Apart from that one time when they were twelve, when they were definitely on seperate beds.

But, with graduation come and gone, and the way you were looking as you laid under the evening sun at the now empty beach— Art and Patrick were struggling. It was the last summer, the last few months of seeing you like this before you all went separate ways. The idea of not making a move was becoming more and more unlikely. They were down bad, and God, the juice of the fruit dripping down your chin as you ate was not helping.

Once Art and Patrick's eyes met, briefly, they understood each other immediately. They both wanted the same thing, and they quickly decided, without speaking, that they'd be willing to share to get that.

"You look really pretty tonight," Art coos, overly innocent smile on his face as his shoulder gently brushes yours. Sandwiched between both boys as the sky starts to turn pink. "Mhm, so pretty." Patrick echos, his face adorned with a smirk as his hand moves to rest on your thigh.