You, me, him.

Sum: when they sleep it's in one of their single beds, all three under the blanket and placidly glued together. They don't mind sharing – as long as they're sharing with one another. Each one belongs to the next, and it's so good – even if it seems wrong sometimes.

When they sleep, it's in one of their single beds, all three under the blanket and placidly glued together. It's never two of them, and the third alone; no, always all three. It would seem unfair if one would be left behind, and though they loved each other equally—eternally much—it would not be as good if one was missing from the bed; if one chose to sleep or reside elsewhere.

Their love is unconditional—it is proven by the thrust and the way they watch each other—like it's the last time they're ever going to be in one another's presence. Like the mere sight of each other takes their breath away. It is also proven by the fact that they are willing to share their loved ones, the ones they wish to hold for ever—yes, they share them with each other, but that does not matter. It is sharing. But this sharing doesn't hurt that much. They are one union, and it is as it should be.

When Near's sad Mello will sometimes hold him close to his body, and Mello's scent would always reassure him that it's okay. Mello's body is always warm, and though he's very distant to most people, he isn't to him, and just seeing the boy will make Near sweat and breathe harder—because he knows what Mello can do, and knows he will always be there for him.

Matt will put Near's head in his lap and talk about nonsensical things. He'll stroke Near's hair, and make him smile lightly, sometimes talking for hours with on end, for Near isn't sad a lot, but when he is, he's really sad. It makes Near happy no matter what—Matt isn't usually talkative, but he will be if it makes him feel better.

When Matt's PSP dies Near will reason with him and try to make him understand it's not the end of the world—when he fails, he just agrees with Matt and kisses him in the corner of his mouth—it seems wrong to kiss him when Mello's not there, but he'll do it if that's what it takes to make Matt a happy camper again—everything for Matt.

Mello will put his own problems aside and threaten to shoot people to gather money to buy Matt a new one—he's not that big of a criminal, and stealing isn't his favourite delinquent activity, but he figures that everything's worth seeing the redhead smile again.

When Mello feels not-good-enough, he'll lock himself in a room and they won't be able to reach him—it'll always be the worst day of their lives, because they know he's on the other side of that door, hurt and in so much fucking pain, and they can't even reach him. These are the worst days of their lives because these are the only days that he refuses to let them in—the only days where their perfect union breaks and misses a piece—the days where they're not complete and it makes them want to cry out and drop dead, just as much as Mello would like to do the same, just on the other side.

At night they don't actually sleep a lot. They mostly lie awake and listen to each other's breathing. And they always lie with Near in between the others—because he's the smallest, and this way they can all cuddle close and be reassured that indeed all three of them are there—none is missing. It's not uncomfortable, and they really wouldn't have it any other way. The lack of sleep that sometimes appears is actually very much worth it.

Matt isn't jealous. No, he's not. To an outsider it would appear that he is, but he's not. They only think he is, because they don't understand the situation. It's just... he doesn't like to leave the two of them alone, and again, it has nothing to do with jealousy. It's only because he knows how persuasive Mello's body can be—unintended as it might be. (Because Mello is many things, but he would not lure Near into doing anything without Matt.) And he knows how adorable Near can be when he's sitting and just looking around like that. He can understand that anyone would be tempted to just do them there and then. But even if he would rush to their room and find them humping on the bed, it wouldn't be a problem—theoretically. They would let him join in a heartbeat, seriously. He just doesn't like to leave them alone because he would always know that he could've walked into the room when they were already done—and he would've never known, he would've never been missed.

(And on the rare occasion that he does leave them alone at the orphanage, and he comes back to find them both sitting there, and they don't smell like boy-love, he can't be happier—definitely when Mello asks what took him so long and starts undressing without further ado.)

Near always swears he's not afraid. But he could be—he's a lot of things people don't know off. They never see beyond the exterior. So in all honestly, he could be afraid. Though when he sees the two of them quarrel playfully while he's making a puzzle in silence, he get's afraid. They turn to him and in two seconds flat he's being engulfed in hugs and they're cooing that it'll be okay—they don't want him to start crying, so they decide to fix it before it gets too bad. He's afraid, because among all the things he is of which people do not know, he's also quite possessive. And he can't have them chattering along and leaving him behind. And although he's faking to be afraid so they would give him some attention, he knows deep down that he really is afraid—afraid they'll leave and go on without him.

Mello's hard-ass and they know it. So when he's jealous or afraid, they never know. He's always Mello to them—a million different things at once, and so overwhelming they can feel the power radiating from the blonde. He's hard-ass and when he's being jealous it's of someone eating chocolate—not because Near pecked Matt on the cheek and just hold hands with Mello. When he cries it's because he's laughing too hard—not because Matt is teaching Near how to beat the big boss. He's not-good-enough in many ways, but he's hard-ass, and not openly jealous or afraid, because he knows what he feels is all in vain. He, unlike the other two, knows they're a union—and he doesn't care what they say; or they're together, all three of them, or they're alone. He wouldn't want to carry on with just one of them, and not being jealous or afraid, being hard-ass, is his way of telling them not to worry. He's theirs. No one else's.

When they make love it's always a test to see how far they can go; how tangled up can we get without it hurting? And though the positions are pretty much basic, each time is more enthralling than the last.

Mello will be in between almost every time—after many times of clumsy love they'd realised that was most comfortable for all three of them, because Matt likes the blonde boy's head against his own shoulder, chest against back. He loves to feel Mello's hot breath and feel his back arch.

Near will be close to Mello's body, knees clamping against Mello's sides and toes teasing against Matt's hips. It's because he needs to be sure they're both there. It would not be the same if he couldn't feel Matt's body. He'll sit in Mello's lap and they'd breath each other's air.

Matt always has one hand on Mello and the other on Near, for exactly the same reason. Being there with three, it intensifies all the feelings—and the great thing is; they get to feel like this forever. The position of his hand will vary—sometimes he'll hold Near closer to the blonde, so that they're all sticky and together. That way Near's head will end up on Matt's shoulder, Mello's will be on Near's, and Matt's will be against Mello's. Kisses will be sloppy and disorientated. On rare occasions their lips will meet at the same time—otherwise they just kiss whoever mouth's closest, and then move to the next. As long as they are closer then humanly possible, it's okay with them. It all they need.

Most of the times Matt's hand will slip. Both of his hands will slip. Against the glistened skin and over creamy or tan thighs. They will hold on tight when he drives deeper into Mello, because he knows this will instinctually cause Mello to move harder into Near—like a chain reaction, in a heavenly sweet way. He is the one most in control of their activities, and it's not because he's more dominant, or because he's better at controlling his temper. It's because Near and Mello have to fight to be first, and he knows that by taking control in these rare moments that they can truly be one, he helps them relax further. Because he knows they like to not be in control every now and then. And he'll do anything to make them feel better.

Matt and Mello always cooperate when it comes to Near; he's their uke—not that he'd want it any other way—but they don't want him to feel like some sort of useless sex-toy. They'll caress and touch at the same time, in the same place, Mello's touch rougher than Matt, because they know it makes the pale boy whimper and cry out for them. It's most fun to watch the boy blush and lose control, because they know they're the only ones to make him feel like that—by working together, moving together, and going like that with their hands.

Mello and Matt like to surprise Near. It's something they can't help doing, because the pink on his cheeks is more than they can handle. He's just so amazingly cute and sexy when he blushed. Like one time they were showering, but Near had declined. And when he came in to use the toilet, Mello and Matt had been snogging feverishly. The results were that all three of them needed another shower. Which is always good, if you ask Mello.

What they have, can't be explained—it's weird and unnatural, people would say. But to them it wasn't and they couldn't help but come back for more.

For Mello it wasn't that easy. Because he had enough to confess without having to go to the booth, and say: "Forgive me father, for I have sinned. I sleep with two boys in my bed. At the same time. And 'sleeping' is a misused term, because we don't do that a lot." His life is full of sins as it is, but this one certainly beats the rest with bells and trinkets. Nothing can be more against his religion than what they have—but somehow he just can't give it up.

Matt always has issues about how it eats him up inside. He has to get over that, he knows. But he can't help but wonder how the hell they're going to keep it up. No one knows, and everywhere they go people look questioningly at them. Even if they weren't snogging each other senseless—even then. It was as if the people could feel that they were more than just friends. And even if Matt liked how no one dared touch any of them because they sensed they belonged together, it also freaked him out—what if anyone in the orphanage found out? It would not be good.

The logic that isn't there bother Near the most. It doesn't make sense to him that he can love two people so much that it makes it hard to breath, but still love them equally. One time they were making out in a photo booth—Mello's lips against Near and Matt's against Mello's skin—and an old lady interrupted and called them freaks. But what does that mean? If they're not right, if they define all logics, then what is the good thing to do?

If they can't be, no one else should have the right to be. Because if they're not allowed the pleasure of love, no one is.

AN: this was supposed to be a multiple-chaptered story, but I preferred it as a one-shot, so I deleted the others and re-uploaded ^^ To those of you who read it when it had more chapters, I am sorry, but I kept on feeling as if every word I added was a failure. Any comments are welcome.