Chapter Text
Living with her two best friends is an experience, Manon has decided.
An experience mostly full of good things—she likes the eclectic mix of belongings that scatters across their three-bedroom apartment, her film cameras and sketchbooks intermingled with Sophia’s law textbooks and Dani’s messy, half-written notes of dance routines and lyrics. She likes the late nights on the couch together watching trashy television shows like Love Island, the comforting sound of Sophia clattering around in the kitchen at all hours (Manon’s almost eating better than she would at home, thanks to Sophia’s cooking)…hell, she even likes the loud, insistent thump of Dani’s speaker when she practices in her bedroom on weekends.
Sometimes, of course, there are not so good things; two alphas and one omega living together has made for some…tension at times. Dani’s naturally fiery nature and fierce temper occasionally causes Manon’s irritation to rise to the surface, but Sophia manages to calm them down every time with her gentle wisdom. They argue about the silliest of things, from what movie to watch, to who gets to use the bathroom first.
However, last weekend was different. Dani had been sharp all week, and both Manon and Sophia had maintained a careful air of calm around her, not wanting to provoke the over-stressed and over-worked alpha. But then, on Saturday night—their scheduled movie night—Dani had announced she was going out without them.
Sophia and Manon had stayed in the apartment, both half-watching Pitch Perfect and hovering over their phones as if Daniela was going to call them for help at any minute. It had been about 11 p.m. before Dani texted their group chat, a short, succinct message that sent a flare of irritation and anxiety through Manon’s chest.
dani
staying with an omega tn. don’t wait up.
Sophia, ever graceful, had texted back with a ‘love youuuu. stay safe <3,’ but Manon had barely been able to like the message, a bitter taste in her mouth and roiling feeling in her stomach.
It reminded her of the last time Sophia went into heat and stayed with an alpha she and Dani had never even met. She tells herself it’s just natural possessiveness—after all, her very instinct is to protect what’s hers—and her best friends are no exception to this rule.
Dani had returned the next morning, dark shadows and smeared mascara under her eyes, stalking into the apartment with visible frustration in every line of her body that just screamed bad sex. Manon had been unable to hide her smugness at this, and the two had engaged in snappy conversation promptly broken up by Sophia and her soft jasmine scent.
However, even Sophia’s doe eyes couldn’t reconcile the obvious tension that seethed between the two alphas for the next week. The apartment practically reeked of musky amber and spiced vanilla all week, so much so that even the pizza delivery guy, a scrawny-looking beta, had given Manon a weird look as she paid him.
Tonight is Saturday night yet again, and Sophia is microwaving popcorn, Manon leaning against the counter as they listen to the miniature fireworks show inside the microwave. Manon monitors all popcorn being cooked with an eagle eye ever since she burnt some and set the fire alarms off during their first week in the apartment—a couple hundred dollars and a hefty scolding later, she vowed to never let it happen again.
Manon shifts awkwardly, one hand fiddling with her braids. “Do you think Dani’s gonna stay in tonight?” she asks, her voice low.
Sophia meets her eyes, a rueful grimace on her face. “I don’t know, Manz,” she says, her brow furrowed, “I mean, you guys have been beefing all week—no offence,” she adds.
Manon laughs, the sound coming out more forcefully than she intends. “True. I should’ve apologized earlier, Soph. We’ve been insufferable this week. Sorry you have to put up with us two brats.”
Sophia laughs, not unkindly. “You know I still love you, right? Even if you are being immature little shits.”
A gentle warmth blossoms inside Manon’s chest at her words, and her cheeks flush. “Love you too, Soph,” she mumbles, avoiding Sophia’s gaze to kneel and squint through the black-tinted window of the microwave (she can hardly see anything, but that’s not the point).
As she opens the microwave, the smell of salty butter spreading through the air, she hears the creak of a door being opened. Their apartment is about a hundred years old—perfect for their décor style, but it seems just about every original fixture can’t be used silently—even the floorboards groan like the undead when you so much as stand on them.
She senses Sophia stiffen behind her, and she knows without even having to look that Daniela has come out of her room. She deliberately averts her gaze, focusing on trying not to burn herself as she opens the popcorn bag, but even the delicious scent of butter is being overpowered by Daniela’s familiar spiced vanilla.
Manon feels her scent spike in response, her heart pounding faster as she looks up to meet Dani’s dark gaze across the kitchen island, the brief eye contact sending a strange thrill down her spine.
Sophia, for once, seems blissfully unaware of the searing tension between the two alphas, skipping joyfully to Dani.
“My Dani!” she squeals happily, wrapping Daniela in an exuberant hug, her jasmine light in contrast to the alpha’s musky scent.
Manon feels her jaw flex at the sight. She’s perfectly content with sharing Sophia with Daniela, always has been. But recently, their generally peaceful dynamic has started to feel more competitive, particularly when it comes to Sophia.
It all harks back to high school, when the three of them—still best friends—had inadvertently been each other’s first kiss. Manon had kissed Daniela one night after their first time trying alcohol, half-tipsy and flushed with the thrill of adulthood. A week later, Sophia and Manon had kissed, a tentative exploration in Sophia’s bedroom, soft and sweet. A mere few days later, it was Sophia and Daniela. Manon still remembers when she found out, the hot rush of jealousy in her chest that settled like tea leaves.
For which girl it was, she couldn’t tell.
After one painfully awkward conversation, it became agreed that it would never be mentioned again; a suppressed undercurrent in their friendship, maybe something to be laughed about in 30 years when they were all married to other people.
Manon had gotten over it with kisses from girls who tasted like cigarettes and boys with tattoos on their forearms, Dani with a constant rotation of obnoxiously loud, sweaty jocks, and Sophia with her whiny (now ex-) boyfriend Leon Barreto.
Post-graduation, things have started to feel different. All three of them are single for the first time in years, and their decision to move into an apartment together has brought those long-gone feelings back like a reopened wound.
But Manon has learnt to keep her mouth shut when Daniela stays out with omegas, or when Sophia kisses other alphas at parties, taking what she can—long drives in Dani’s car, days spent in bookstores with Sophia, their sacred movie nights.
She has learnt to avert her gaze from dangerous things, like the soft outline of Dani’s abs through her workout clothes, or Sophia slipping out from the shower with a nearly-too-small towel clutched around her.
Because she knows, deep down, if she were to ignore the voice of reason in her head, and act on these confusing, electric feelings inside her chest, that their friendship would inevitably crumble. It would end in slammed doors, raised voices and one-way plane tickets, half-hearted reunions over FaceTime, and Manon can’t risk it. She can’t risk losing this friendship that has survived the rollercoaster of middle school, the monster of high school and the trainwreck of her parents’ marriage, against all odds.
Sometimes, though, she wishes she could.
“Please tell me you’re gonna stay for movie night,” Sophia pleads, releasing Daniela from the hug and gazing at her with those ridiculously gorgeous doe eyes.
Manon watches Dani’s face soften, her cheeks dimpling as she gives Sophia a gentle smile.
“Of course, Soph. Can’t miss out on watching a movie with my favorite omega, can I?”
Manon rolls her eyes, scoffing under her breath. “What about your favorite alpha?” She asks before she can think better of it.
Dani meets her gaze, irritation surprisingly absent from her expression. “Yeah, you too,” she grumbles, but her eyes are warm with affection.
A wide grin spreads across Manon’s face. “Knew you still loved me, mami. Now come get some popcorn,” she says, blowing Dani a kiss as she walks to the couch, bowl of popcorn in hand.
She hears Sophia laugh behind her, and then they’re both there, squeezing in on either side. Dani is all lean curves and hard muscle from her dancing and habitual pilates session, practically a human-sized heater as she nestles closer to Manon, surprisingly clingy. Sophia cozies up on the other side, sneaking a hand into the bowl of popcorn sitting on Manon’s lap.
Manon tries to ignore the way their scents are now infusing into her clothing and skin from sheer proximity, but she can’t deny the strange flutter inside her stomach at the thought of being theirs, at everyone outside the apartment being able to smell them on her.
“Any particular requests?” She asks as she commandeers the remote.
Dani grunts. “Anything as long as it isn’t one of your weird French art films. Last time you put one on it turned into straight-up porn.”
Manon cackles. “Aw, you sure? I thought you liked that kind of thin—”
Dani shoves her gently. “Shut up, Manz.”
Sophia laughs. “For the record, I like your French art films…except for that one.”
“Okay, okay, I get it,” Manon grumbles, “in my defense, I got told it was a thriller.”
She can sense Dani rolling her eyes. “Yeah, sure. Just admit you wanted an excuse to make us watch porn with you.”
“I would never!” Manon gasps in mock offence—and yeah, that kind of cinema isn’t her thing. But with Dani and Sophia…her face flushes hot at the utter filthiness that her mind conjures. She fumbles the remote, squeaking as she drops it in the popcorn bowl.
Sophia laughs gently. “Aw, poor Manzanita. Dani, look what you’ve done to her, you bully,” she jokes.
Manon flushes harder at Sophia’s words, managing to wrangle the butter-sticky remote.
“Ew,” she complains, sticking her tongue out. Dani leans away from Manon, pulling her hoodie off and taking the remote. Manon tries and fails not to notice a brief flash of tan skin as the t-shirt she’s wearing underneath rides up, averting her eyes hurriedly.
“Here, you precious alpha,” she says, cleaning the remote with her hoodie and handing it back to Manon in a surprisingly sweet gesture, given all their arguing this past week. Manon interprets it as a peace offering, an unspoken apology—Dani isn’t the best at apologies sometimes—and from the way Daniela’s looking at her, a lopsided smile on her lips, she thinks she’s right in this hypothesis.
Manon presses a quick kiss to Daniela’s forehead, wordlessly accepting her apology. “Thanks, mami. Now, what movie?”
“Don’t mind,” Sophia hums, happily munching on a handful of popcorn.
Manon grins wickedly. “So I can pick?” she says, scrolling through Netflix.
She hovers over the French movie from last time, and Dani snatches the remote from Manon’s hand with an almost-violent desperation, pressing onto the random film above.
“Jennifer’s Body?” Sophia reads, “I don’t think I’ve seen that before.”
Manon scowls half-heartedly at Dani, who has the remote clutched to her chest protectively. “I was just teasing, mamacita. No need to get so angry.”
“But,” she continues, leaning back into the couch, “since you chose this one: no pausing. We’re gonna watch it all the way through.”
Dani blanches, her momentarily smug expression dropping. “Oh, fuck. What have I chosen?”
“A good film,” Manon hums gleefully as the opening credits begin.
“Shhh,” Sophia says, eyes glued to the screen, “it’s starting.”
Manon can’t hide the slight smirk on her face as the movie starts—she’s watched it at least twice before and knows precisely what scene Dani will enjoy the least (or maybe the most, depending on what mood she’s in). Hell, she’s watched that one at least ten times on YouTube and knows it down to the exact camera shots.
Dani relaxes beside her when the film progresses and shows no signs of weirdness—well, apart from the boy-eating succubus that is Jennifer Check—much to Manon’s delight. Even Sophia is enjoying it, judging from the little comments she’s making in Manon’s ear about the outfits and ‘how pretty Megan Fox is’. Manon is enjoying it, too. It’s been a long time since she’s seen the movie, and she’d half-forgotten how much of a cult classic it is.
However, right now, she’s less interested in analyzing the camera angles and far more interested in her best friends’ reactions to one of the best (call her crude, but) movie scenes in sapphic history.
She sits up straighter as the scene begins, glancing mischievously between her best friends to see their reactions. What she expects is a loud exclamation from Dani and an amused laugh from Sophia as Dani rushes to skip the scene.
Instead, all she gets from Dani is a sharp inhale, and Sophia is as silent as the grave beside her. Manon refocuses on the screen briefly, but she’s seen it enough times by now to barely have a reaction—she’s far more intrigued in her friends right now.
Dani shifts uncomfortably beside her, her thigh pressing hard into Manon’s, and Manon glances down, distracted by the movement, and stiffens at the sight before her eyes.
Dani is hard, she realizes. The bulge in her sweatpants isn’t her imagination, or a trick of the light; it’s unmistakably real, and sizeable at that. Manon feels her own cock twitch in her pants at this realization, and glances quickly to Sophia to see if she’s noticed Daniela’s…situation, or Manon’s, for that matter.
Sophia is fixated on the screen, but Manon can see how dilated her pupils are, even in the dim light of the apartment, her thighs squeezed tightly together. Manon’s body flares even more at this, her mind racing with indecision.
She glances at the screen; there’s about a minute left, give or take. The rational part of her brain screams no, flashing a montage of all the ways their friendship could end, but the foolish, atavistic side of her brain urges her forward.
She makes an instantaneous decision, an entirely unreasonable and ridiculous one, completely banking on the hope that she isn’t the only one who still feels this way. She slides a hand onto Daniela’s thigh and feels her tense in surprise. The other rests on Sophia’s thigh, and she hears a quick intake of breath to her left.
Manon moves her hand fractionally, enough so her fingertips graze the bulge in Dani’s pants. She feels Dani’s body pull taut beside her, and hears her voice, low and raspy.
“Manon,” Dani says, and Manon registers the pleading inflection to it, glancing sideways to see Dani’s parted lips and blown pupils, watching her carefully.
Sophia leans forward, and Manon feels rather than sees the moment she realizes what’s happening next to her. Sophia moves as if to get up, but Manon’s grip on her thigh tightens. “Stay, Fifi,” she murmurs, and Sophia pools back into the couch obligingly, unusually silent for once.
Manon grasps Dani in one hand, stroking her through the fabric of her pants, and feels Dani’s hips buck into her palm, a hard gasp tearing from Dani’s throat. She manages to simultaneously skate her fingers up Sophia’s inner thigh, and feels Sophia lean into her touch, thighs parting so Manon can slide to her waistband.
When Manon’s fingers brush warm skin, she stops, turning her head to face Sophia. Sophia is so close to her that they could kiss, she registers. Somehow, she manages to speak, tearing her eyes away from Sophia’s lips, intoxicatingly plump in this light.
“Are you sure, Soph?” she asks, her voice trembling slightly with the axe of rejection poised over her head.
Sophia is silent for a single, excruciating moment, then she speaks.
“Yes. Please, Manon,” and Manon almost whimpers at her words. She takes her time, though, circling her fingers across Sophia’s skin, dipping them underneath the waistband of her pants in a teasing motion that makes Sophia squirm, her hips canting upwards uselessly.
Meanwhile, Dani is thrusting her hips into Manon’s hand, almost feral with need. Manon feels a wicked smirk cross her lips at the sight of the proud Latina reduced to such desperation, their feud long forgotten. She can feel a damp spot through Dani’s sweatpants, and her grin widens as she slides her hand away, up to Dani’s stomach.
A wrecked exhale sounds near her ear as she trails across the hard planes of muscle on Dani’s stomach, travelling down before circling back up teasingly. Dani’s head arches back as she stares at the ceiling, her pants straining with need, hips rolling against nothing.
Manon takes pity on her, grasping her in one smooth motion that forces a low groan from Daniela’s throat, her cock hot and throbbing in Manon’s palm. At the same time, she gently dips her fingers in the wet heat between Sophia’s legs, exploring it with a precision that makes Sophia moan into her neck, burying her face in Manon’s hoodie shoulder.
Manon strokes Dani with practiced ease, watching as her teeth dig into her bottom lip to hold in a moan. She circles her thumb on the tip, smearing pre across it, and feels Dani’s member jump in her palm. Simultaneously, she traces a finger around Sophia’s entrance, savoring her reaction, the omega’s head tipping back and her eyelids fluttering shut at the sensation. She’s never felt as powerful as she does right now, one hand in each of her best friends’ pants, and she almost laughs at the sheer ridiculousness of this thought.
Manon slides a finger inside when Sophia’s writhing becomes too insistent, pumping in time with her strokes of Dani’s cock, keeping her rhythm steady and focused. The movie has become background noise, a hazy blur in the foreground, playing second fiddle to the sight—and sounds— taking place before Manon’s eyes.
Normally, Manon would be talking; she loves being vocal during sex, especially when she’s with people she cares about, but it feels as if she makes one crude comment (as she is wont to do) this moment will burst immediately, the spell broken.
Instead, she speeds up her ministrations on both of them, acutely aware of the tightness between her legs that seems to pulse harder every time one of them lets out a sound. She’s never felt so immersed in giving before; her entire body feels zeroed in on their reactions and enjoyment, her skin electrified where they’re touching.
She feels Dani twitch in her hand, hips bucking involuntarily, the leather couch creaking with her movement, one hand clutching Manon’s thigh tightly, and knows she isn’t far off. Sophia, too, seems close to release, her walls clenching around Manon as she thrusts inside.
Manon strokes Dani harder, her pace relentless, watching her composure shatter as her eyes roll back into her head, her knuckles white on Manon’s thigh, her breath coming in loud pants. Manon can’t resist a comment, her voice low and filthy in Dani’s ear:
“Come for me, mami.”
Daniela lets out an unrestrained moan at this, and her cock throbs in Manon’s hand as she comes in her own underwear. Manon slides her hand to the tip and back down again, coating Dani in her own cum. Dani shudders in pleasure at this, closing her eyes.
Manon revels at the sight of her best friend so thoroughly fucked; her forehead damp with sweat, chest rising and falling as she struggles to catch her breath, the dark stain on the crotch of her sweatpants, evident even in this dim lighting.
Sophia, too, shatters under Manon’s ministrations, the climax hitting her like a wave, every muscle in her body tensed as she contracts around Manon. Manon pushes her through the aftershocks, keeping a gentle pace to draw it out for as long as possible before slipping her hand out to flop tiredly in her lap, leaving a dark smear on her clothes.
She can feel Sophia trembling beside her, her face still pressed into Manon’s shoulder, while Dani is all loose-limbed and floppy, still too wrung out to even move. Manon absently notes they have about twenty minutes of the movie left; she half-wonders if she could get away with leaving early to sate her own pleasure, but she knows it would probably be a bad idea.
She hears Dani swallowing, trying to get her breathing under control. The apartment seems almost too quiet in the aftermath, the tinny sound of the television barely registering in her ears. Manon has the disturbing feeling of having done something that will irrevocably change their entire friendship, a strange, vaguely nauseous taste in her mouth.
She finishes watching the movie anyway.