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ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴀɪɴ ᴀғᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ sᴛᴏʀᴍ—𝑎𝑣𝑜𝑖𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑓𝑢𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑒

Some would think waking up in a tangle of limbs to be sexy.
When you realise those limbs belong to your older brother and his best friend—sorry Ry. Well, not sexy at all. Fucked up? Sure. Sexy? No way in hell.

Race removed Ryder's arm from his waist carefully to not wake him up, then turned his head to find a very awake Riot staring at the sleeping man he was trying to extricate himself from. Before he could speak, Riot shook his head and whispered, "Rhys spent the whole night looking after you, boy. Let him sleep or we're going to have a problem."
Race smirked, "his wife won't be happy."
"His wife can suck my cock."
"Classy."

Holding back a laugh, Race winced as he got up, he'd fallen asleep on the rug at his own living room, empty bottles laying around brought a painful reminder of why the night had gone that way. Not being able to hide the wince, his head hurt in clear signal of hangover. Oh well, so much for managing shit like the responsible adult he was.

Turning his head towards the guy everyone thought was a heartless asshole, he smiled at the sight of Riot moving Ryder so his head rested on a pillow he had grabbed from the sofa, tucking him tight with the blanket that somehow had ended on the floor at some point of the night. His friend frowned at him, hard blue eyes boring into his with clear warning. "Shut it or I'll find a better use for that pouty mouth, pretty boy."

Race raised his hands in mock defense, he had always been amazed by Ryder and Riot's dynamics. Hell, the whole group dynamics including Kiara and Molly—back when she was still in the land of the living.

Opening the cupboard to grab an Advil and downing it with a fresh bottle of water from the fridge, Race turned towards Riot, "what the hell happened last night, man?"
"Yael happened. Drowning your pain in booze won't change the shitshow you two performed outside the temple."
"I know," he did, but it didn't change anything.