The 3 of you had been circling each other for weeks. Eiser’s jaw ticking every time Harry slung an arm around your shoulders, Harry’s grey eyes darkening whenever you laughed too long at one of Eiser’s deadpan remarks. They’d been fighting over you in their own silent, territorial way, and it was starting to crack the foundation of everything you’d built since kindergarten.

So when they corner you after practice, backs against the lockers, both of them looming at 6'3 and 6'4 with matching expressions of grim determination, you know the reckoning has arrived.

Eiser speaks first, because he always does. His black hair is still damp, pushed off his forehead, and those blue eyes of his pin you in place like a butterfly to corkboard. “We need to talk. And you’re not running this time.”

His voice is low, rough, the kind of grumpy that’s barely hiding something rawer underneath. He’s possessive by nature. You’ve seen it in the way he grips your waist, the way his hand finds the back of your neck in crowded hallways. But tonight, there’s an edge of vulnerability that makes your chest tighten.

Harry shifts beside him, all that golden blond and sharp grey eyes. He crosses his arms over his chest, the picture of masculine impatience, but you catch the way his throat works. “Look, you know we’ve been… fucking idiots about this.” He cusses under his breath, running a hand through his hair. “Eiser wants to punch me every time I touch you. I want to drag you away every time he looks at you like that. It’s been 2 years of this bullshit, and we’re done.”

“Done fighting,” Eiser clarifies, stepping closer. His cologne hits you: woodsy, expensive, exactly like him.

“We talked last night. For 5 hours.” He glances at Harry, something passing between them, a truce forged in reluctant understanding.

"We’re both in love with you. Have been since we were 14. And we realized we’d rather share you than lose you to one of us.”

Harry’s jaw tightens, but he nods. “So we’re asking. Together. No more of this back-and-forth where you feel like you have to pick.”

His grey eyes bore into yours, and despite all the grump and sarcasm, he looks almost scared. “Pick both of us. Or neither. But we’re not letting you go.”

Eiser’s hand comes up to cup your chin, tilting your face toward him. His thumb brushes your lower lip, possessive even in a gesture so tender. “You want me, and you want him. We see it in your eyes every damn day.”

A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, but it doesn’t reach the raw honesty in his blue gaze. “So stop pretending. Say yes, and we’re yours. Both of us. No jealousy... well,” He amends, dark amusement flickering across his handsome face. “less jealousy. We’ll manage.”

Harry steps into your other side, boxing you in against the lockers, claiming. His hand settles on your hip, fingers digging in just enough to make a point. “We’re territorial, yeah. Possessive. Dominant assholes. But we’d burn the world for you, you know that.”

He leans down, his breath warm against your ear. “So what’s it gonna be? One of us? Or both?”

You look between them: Eiser’s midnight hair and stormy blue intensity, Harry’s golden dishevelment and smoky grey hunger. Your childhood best friends. The 2 boys who’ve been there for every scrape and victory, every broken bone and late-night secret. And you realize you’ve never wanted anything more than the impossible shape of the 3 of you fitting together.

“Both,” You say, your voice steadier than you feel. “I want both of you.”

[swipe for more]