(sorry if this isn't entirely what you wanted, OP, lightning struck me and I went with it. hope you enjoy!)
Matt shouldn’t be here. Shouldn’t have his head bowed against the mattress, his hand around his cock as Taliesin rushes them both to a finish. The other man draping over him for a moment, the closest they ever get to holding each other. Checking the clock, quickly, quickly. A kiss at the door, before opening it, check the windows first, another glance at the clock. You should tell her, she wouldn’t care./But what if she does, I can’t, not yet. Shouldn’t, shouldn’t. I love you, you know that, right?/Of course I do, I love you too.
Marisha shouldn’t be here. Shouldn’t be pressed between Taliesin and the wall, shouldn’t be biting her fist to stifle the noises of pleasure that spill from her mouth. No one will hear./But what if they do? Never on the bed, he’d know. On the floor, against the wall, in the shower, but never the bed. He peppers kisses down her neck, rests his forehead on her shoulder. She shudders and he follows and they both go still against each other, fleeting moments they shouldn’t have. You could tell him, it’d be alright./But what if it’s not? I can’t, not yet. Kisses him long and deep, holding him close for as long as she can. Walks him to the door, holding his hand. Shouldn’t, shouldn’t. They’re never discreet, but they play it off well, no one seems the wiser. You know I love you, right?/I love you, too.
Taliesin shouldn’t be doing this. Some days he’s the worst friend on the planet, some days they’re the most stubborn, fearful people he knows, some days it’s both. Those days are fun. He tries and he tries to bring them all together, the way he’s sure they’re meant to be, but they’ve gone too far, they’re too scared now, fearful that what started as a transgression can never be redeemed. He should stop. It’d be kinder. But some days he’s selfish, and loves them both so deeply he thinks he’d fly apart if he wasn’t pulled between them.
--
Matt sits on the sofa, his arm around her. She smells like shampoo and rests bonelessly against him, yawns through most of the movie. Long day?/What? Oh, yeah, it must have been. The towels smell like Taliesin, but he can’t ask her about that, not without admitting he knows what Taliesin smells like. He kisses her hair, squeezes his eyes tight. You should tell her.
Marisha curls against him on the sofa, eyes on the screen but mind a thousand miles away. Taliesin’s hair was on one of Matt’s shirts, but she can’t ask him about it. Not without admitting she was burying her own clothes deep in the hamper, hoping to hide the stains. She bites her lip. You should tell him.
One Little Did (Matt/Marisha, Marisha/Taliesin, Matt/Taliesin)
Matt shouldn’t be here. Shouldn’t have his head bowed against the mattress, his hand around his cock as Taliesin rushes them both to a finish. The other man draping over him for a moment, the closest they ever get to holding each other. Checking the clock, quickly, quickly. A kiss at the door, before opening it, check the windows first, another glance at the clock. You should tell her, she wouldn’t care./But what if she does, I can’t, not yet. Shouldn’t, shouldn’t. I love you, you know that, right?/Of course I do, I love you too.
Marisha shouldn’t be here. Shouldn’t be pressed between Taliesin and the wall, shouldn’t be biting her fist to stifle the noises of pleasure that spill from her mouth. No one will hear./But what if they do? Never on the bed, he’d know. On the floor, against the wall, in the shower, but never the bed. He peppers kisses down her neck, rests his forehead on her shoulder. She shudders and he follows and they both go still against each other, fleeting moments they shouldn’t have. You could tell him, it’d be alright./But what if it’s not? I can’t, not yet. Kisses him long and deep, holding him close for as long as she can. Walks him to the door, holding his hand. Shouldn’t, shouldn’t. They’re never discreet, but they play it off well, no one seems the wiser. You know I love you, right?/I love you, too.
Taliesin shouldn’t be doing this. Some days he’s the worst friend on the planet, some days they’re the most stubborn, fearful people he knows, some days it’s both. Those days are fun. He tries and he tries to bring them all together, the way he’s sure they’re meant to be, but they’ve gone too far, they’re too scared now, fearful that what started as a transgression can never be redeemed. He should stop. It’d be kinder. But some days he’s selfish, and loves them both so deeply he thinks he’d fly apart if he wasn’t pulled between them.
--
Matt sits on the sofa, his arm around her. She smells like shampoo and rests bonelessly against him, yawns through most of the movie. Long day?/What? Oh, yeah, it must have been. The towels smell like Taliesin, but he can’t ask her about that, not without admitting he knows what Taliesin smells like. He kisses her hair, squeezes his eyes tight. You should tell her.
Marisha curls against him on the sofa, eyes on the screen but mind a thousand miles away. Taliesin’s hair was on one of Matt’s shirts, but she can’t ask him about it. Not without admitting she was burying her own clothes deep in the hamper, hoping to hide the stains. She bites her lip. You should tell him.
--
“Hey babe?”
“Hm?”
“Can...I talk to you about something?”
“Sure. I...kind of wanted to talk to you, too.”
“Oh?”
“You go first.”
“...I don’t want to.”
“Heh, okay. Same time.”
They both take a deep breath.