Work Text:
Eric and Jack are never going to agree on what to do about Rachel and the fact that both of them want to touch her face with their faces, but that doesn't mean they're not going to have approximately eighteen grudge matches over it. Jack's a scratcher and a hair puller, and Eric is completely ready for it, because Cory‘s the same. He doesn't like to brag or anything, but he pretty much wins every time, even though Jack is, like, Mr. Muscles and Eric's fitness plan mostly consists of butt clenches and not eating the entire pizza.
Rachel’s away at class, and they’ve just finished having a mutual screaming fit, when Eric says, “What if we just alternate days?” then throws his arms up and grins because he’s a genius. People totally underestimate him.
Jack gapes at him.
“That’s not how girls work,” he says.
“But what if it was?” Eric asks. “What if Rachel falls in love with both of us and then everything works out and nobody hates anyone or jumps off the balcony?”
“No, she. ..” Jack starts, then draws off, frowning.
Eric has definitely bested him in this battle of logic. He has no idea why Rachel hasn’t already picked him, since he’s clearly superior in all of the ways.
“So, we would, like. . .share her?” Jack asks, like he’s interested but every single word hurts to say. He sounds like that a lot when Eric makes plans, but it’s not like they ever end up bad or anything.
There’s a cough from above them, and both of them freeze in place. Eric has a sudden vision of Rachel jumping over the railing and taking them both out at once with her incredibly long legs. He turns slowly to see that it’s actually just Shawn, standing at the top of the stairs and smiling at them.
“Well, well, well,” he says, steepling his fingers. “This seems like a conversation you’d like to keep private.”
“How long have you been here?” Jack asks.
“I slept on your balcony,” he says. “I’ve been here for two days.”
“. . .why?”
“Maybe I wanted to spend time with my brother,” Shawn says, shaking his head. “Or maybe Cory and Topanga are being disgusting and I don’t want any part of it. Neither of those things matter, though. All that matters is what you’re going to do for me to keep me from telling Rachel about how you’re both freaks.”
“Geniuses, you mean,” Eric says.
“I won’t say I haven’t considered figuring out some type of three-way relationship between me and Angela and Liv Tyler, but that’s the stuff of dreams, kids,” he says, wistfully. “Now. . .let’s discuss my price.”
Shawn demands whatever is in their pockets, which is mostly loose change and breath mints, before sweeping out dramatically. Eric thinks it’s probably good that Shawn grew up poor and has such low expectations, otherwise they would lose a lot of money this way. They’re not very good at secrets, here.
*
“I am going to kill both of you,” Rachel says, the moment she walks back into the apartment, all serious face and distractingly tight sweater. Eric and Jack’s heads both turn at the same time.
“Oh god,” Jack says, hushed.
“You have to disown Shawn,” Eric says.
Rachel crosses to where they’re sitting at the table, hands on her hips.
“Explain yourselves,” she says. She’s got a mom voice going on, but a really hot mom, like Topanga’s. If Eric weren’t looking death in the face, he would probably be thinking more about how he’s been a bad, bad boy and needs to be punished.
“Shawn’s a liar,” Jack says, quickly. “He’s jealous because I’m richer and prettier than him.”
“. . .okay,” Rachel says. “Continue.”
“When we said we wanted to share you,” Eric says, “we really meant share things with you. Like cake. Puppies. Laughs.”
“. . .share me?” Rachel asks.
“You would get twice the free meals? Double your. . .fun?” Jack offers, then shakes his head. “No, never mind, we’re sorry. We’re so sorry. We’re men, and we’re terrible, and we‘ll leave you alone forever.”
“I was just going to yell at you for eating the last of the cookies my grandma sent, but, wow, okay,” she says, faintly, fists clenching on her hips. “Share me?”
“She didn’t know,” Jack says, almost falling backwards in his attempts to get out of his chair. His eyes dart to the door and then to Eric. Eric’s genius does not work well under pressure, and Rachel has been silent for a long time, face getting pinker and pinker like she’s holding in a whole bunch of anger.
Eric gets out of his chair slowly.
“Jack,” he says, evenly.
“Yeah?” Jack whimpers.
“ABANDON SHIP,” he shouts, voice justifiably breaking as he sprints for the door. He’s considering the possibility of just hurling himself over the stairwell and praying for death when he feels a hand on his neck pull him backwards. Rachel braces herself in the doorframe in front of them. There’s basically fire in her eyes and smoke coming out of her ears, the whole cartoon ten yards.
Jack makes a beeline for the balcony and sweet, sweet release, and then everything goes straight to hell.
*
"SHARE ME?" Rachel screams, from the bathroom, where Eric managed to lock her in with a chair against the door handle during their chase scene. Jack and him are sitting on the end of her bed, shoulder to shoulder. They look at each other for a moment, but Eric isn't going to be the one to answer this question. It's a trap.
"There's no right answer," he hisses.
"What?" Jack says. "I think 'no' is probably the right answer. No, we were not going to try to share her like a couple of creeps."
"But we kind of were," Eric says, and Rachel makes a strangled noise and starts trying to kick down the door.
"Geez, man, she's stronger than we are," Jack moans, stumbling to his feet. "That chair isn't going to hold out."
Rachel yells something about homicide and illegal detention and then a string of curse words. The chair rattles ominously. Eric has never been more scared in his whole life, and he's witnessed some pretty terrible things, like that time he walked in on his parents and oh, god, no, he'd blocked that out before. It's back. His life is officially ruined.
"Let's get out before it's too late," he says, quickly. "Dye our hair, change our names, get a shack in Canada and adopt a baby moose. Leave this all behind."
"THERE IS NO PLACE IN THE WORLD WHERE I CAN'T FIND YOU."
"I'm letting her out," Jack says, jerking forward. "I'm accepting my fate."
"Let me call Mr. Feeny first," Eric says, grabbing him the back of his shirt and tugging him back onto the bed. "To tell him that I’ll miss him.”
“No, hey, let’s do it together.” Jack takes Eric’s wrist and pulls him up, guiding him to the door. Rachel’s gone quiet, and they stand in front of it for a few long moments, shaking.
“I love you, man,” Eric whispers, and Jack nods solemnly before moving the chair out of the way and putting his hand on the door handle. He’s probably about to actually open it when Rachel opens it from the other side, knocking them both to the ground. They’re at a disadvantage on their backs while she looms over them. Eric tries to protect his ribs and other vulnerable parts of his anatomy, but Jack’s just kind of gone limp.
”I am not a thing that can be passed around or shared, you total and complete assholes,” she says, looking madder and madder with every word she emphasizes.
“We are,” Jack says. “We are assholes.”
“And if I hear anything else about this, I am going to make sure that both of you wish you were never born.” She pauses for a moment. “Are we clear?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Eric gasps. They’re going to make it out of this alive. Everything is going to be okay.
“And if you ever lock me in the bathroom again, I will hide the bodies where no one can find them,” she finishes, huffing out a breath and stalking past them.
They lay there for a few minutes in silence, and then Eric turns to Jack and says, quietly, “That was really hot.”
“I know,” Jack moans, turning over to lay facedown. “I know.”
*
Over the next couple of days, things kind of go back to normal. Jack and Eric secretly fight about Rachel, but Rachel looks like she’s mostly in on the secret part now. They all spend too much time together for none of them to be dating. Jack leaves a bite mark on Eric’s arm in the middle of a fight. The usual.
And then they come back from the Student Union to see Rachel sitting on the sofa in her little silky purple number with her seriously miles long legs stretched out, and Eric has a tiny, tiny heart attack.
“Shut the door,” she says, voice pitched low, and Jack does it immediately.
“Uh, what’s, uh, uhm,” he says.
Eric finishes for him, fake cheerful, “What’s up, roomie?”
“I’ve been thinking about what happened,” she says, looking up at them from under her eyelashes, “and I wanted to apologize to you two and tell you that I think. . .you were right.”
Jack makes a strangled noise, then pulls Eric aside.
“What,” he whispers, “is happening.”
“She changed her mind,” Eric says, eyes wide. “She totally wants us, dude.”
“Ack,” Jack says, which isn’t even a word. He’s obviously not going to do well under this type of sexy, sexy pressure, so Eric is going to have to take the lead here. He steps back towards Rachel, pulling out the hair tousle he perfected in high school and putting on his nicest smile.
“Who do you want first?” he asks, making eyes at her.
“Why do I have to choose?” she asks, licking her lips. “I want you both to get on my bed right now, and I’ll tell you what to do from there.”
They’re already sprawled out on her bed, shirts half off, the word threesome threesome threesome thrumming in the air before they realize that this is not the threesome of their pornographic dreams. They turn to look at each other slowly.
“Devil’s threesome,” Eric says, gravely.
“We didn’t plan for this,” Jack says. He swallows hard.
“Well, I’m one hundred percent in,” Eric says, because Jack’s a coward and might back out and then it will just be him and Rachel. In bed. Preferably naked.
“Pfft,” Jack scoffs, looking uncomfortable. “Me, too.”
“Fine, then,” Eric says, and then the door opens slowly and Rachel leans against the frame, raising one long arm. She smiles slow, and Eric smiles back and hopes it looks less terrified and more real turned on, because he’s a confusing mix of both at the moment.
“Well?” she says. “Aren’t you two going to start?”
“. . .start?” Jack asks.
“Us two?” Eric asks.
“Of course,” Rachel says. “Haven’t you done this before?”
“Uh, yeah,” Eric says, “plenty of times.”
“I ménage on the regular,” Jack agrees.
“Then you know this is about all three of us,” she says, taking one step closer, shirt riding up to show a strip of her stomach, “. . .and I want to see you two kiss.”
Eric and Jack turn to look at each other again. Jack’s shirt is hanging off his arms, all stupid impressive muscles and pale hair. Eric raises one eyebrow, and Jack’s eyes go wide.
“It’s the 20th century,” he says, like that’s an explanation for kissing his best friend, and then he surges forward and kisses his best friend. Jack murmurs, startled, “21st century, man,” into his mouth and kisses back. It’s too far to turn back, now, and one of Eric’s hands is gripping Jack’s bicep and one of Jack’s hands is buried in Eric’s hair, and it isn’t bad. It’s just like all the other kissing Eric’s ever done, in that it makes him feel nice and he starts to get hard pretty much immediately. It’s not even that weird that it’s Jack, his friend who is also decidedly a dude. It would probably be weird if Eric let himself think about it, but instead he just focuses on Jack’s fingers tugging gently at his hair to lead him, their mouths opening.
Twenty minutes later, they pull apart, gasping, and stare at each other close up. Eric thinks he might have heard the door close awhile ago.
“She’s not coming back, is she?” Jack asks, voice rough.
“Nope,” Eric says. “She tricked us, didn’t she?”
“Yep,” Jack murmurs.
“. . .want to keep making out?”
Jack blinks at him, face close. They’ll have to talk about this sometime, because it is big and potentially weird and new, but they don’t have to do it right now. They’ve got time.
“Yeah, okay,” he says, quietly, and puts a hand on Eric's neck to pull him closer.