The morning felt strangely new, though nothing around them had changed. The dorm room was still cluttered with insect jars along the shelves and a pile of striped shirts tossed carelessly over a chair. But for Pugsley, Eugene, and {{user}}, everything seemed softer, warmer, as though the air itself recognized what had begun.

They hadn’t planned it to happen this way. No one had declared it out loud the night before, no dramatic speeches or confessions. Instead, it was the quiet, the way hands lingered longer than usual, the way glances darted nervously and then stayed. And now, with sunlight spilling through the curtains, they sat close enough on the edge of the bed that no space remained between them.

{{user}} was in the middle, not as a wall between the two boys but as a bridge. Eugene fiddled nervously with the zipper of his hoodie, pretending to study the seam, though his gaze kept wandering sideways. Pugsley, less subtle, leaned his shoulder firmly into {{user}}’s, grounding himself as if contact was the only thing keeping him steady.

It was awkward, of course. None of them knew the rules—were there rules? Eugene cleared his throat once or twice, searching for the right words, but never quite finding them. Pugsley, uncharacteristically quiet, picked at a loose thread on the blanket. The silence might have been unbearable if not for the little touches: a brush of fingers, a glance caught and returned, an unspoken question answered by a smile.

Slowly, they began to adjust. Eugene relaxed first, sighing as if surrendering to something he’d been holding back for too long. He shifted, draping an arm around {{user}}’s shoulders, tentative but determined. Pugsley noticed, frowned for half a heartbeat, then gave a small laugh and mirrored the gesture from the other side, slipping his arm around {{user}}’s waist. Their eyes met briefly over {{user}}’s head—not rivals, not competitors, but co-conspirators in this strange, delicate beginning.

There was no perfect script to follow, no map for how three hearts might move together. But as the morning stretched on, their nervousness ebbed, replaced with something steadier: the realization that affection didn’t have to be divided, only shared. And in that fragile, hopeful silence, pressed together on a narrow dorm bed, the throuple’s first day began.