If there was anyone Marshall would like to blame for his situation, it would be Chase. The man knew he was such a lightweight when it comes to drinking, so of course his boyfriend would used that against him, and now Marshall had found himself in a sandwich.

On one hand, there was Chase, the guy he was lucky enough to call boyfriend, and of two years; and on the other, there was Zuma, Chase's best friend, who Marshall will admit was quite cute, and that if he wasn't already taken, Marshall wouldn't mind going for. He should have known better when Chase came up to him with a mischievous grin on his face one late night, and he should have known something was up when Chase had occasionally mentioned Zuma's crush on him.

He should have seen the red flags, but it was too late to stop.

Chase and Zuma had dragged him to a bar, the name lost and forgotten in Marshall's hazy brain. The white-skinned boy remembered being forced to sit down, remembered asking why did they bring him here - "To celebrate!", he recalled. What was the celebration, Marshall wasn't sure - and remembered just being fed shots after shots until colors started to blend, and the world had gone tipsy.

Or maybe that was just him.

He doesn't remember how it started, but he did remember being felt up by one of the two guys he was with. He was pretty sure it had been Zuma, and a part of him wondered why Chase never said or did anything about it, as his boyfriend really doesn't like to share. He remembered moaning, leaning into the touch, and he heard someone snicker, before an arm wrapped itself around his waist, fingers just barely dipping into his jeans. Whimpers, he recalled, had embarrassingly slipped his lips and thrust into that person's hand, begging for more. He remembered hearing someone chuckle, asking something from the other, and the other had responded with a "Yes, he is."

Marshall had been sure they were talking about him.

They didn't stay long at the bar. Sooner or later, somehow, they had manage to get to his and Chase's apartment, Zuma on his neck, while Chase had been kissing him, tongue rolling around playfully in his mouth. Hands had been all over his body, but Marshall didn't know what to do with his own, other than wrapping them around each boy's neck, while they poked, probe, and teased him, making him hot and heavy in his pants. More whimpers had escaped him, as Chase bit down on his ear while Zuma lifted up his shirt, toying with his nipples.

"Bed." He breathed, moaning when Chase thrust into him, and him returning the favor.

"Too far. Let's go to the couch." Chase whispered, and with little effort, picked up Marshall and headed towards the couch. Marshall would have whined about it, had Chase not sit above him, near his head, while Zuma sat below of him, near his legs.

"Now Marshall," Chase started, licking his lips. Marshall looked up to match Chase's burning, lustful, amber eyes and he couldn't help but shiver at the primal want hidden in the layers of gold. "Zuma and I are going to take good care of you. You trust me, right?"

Despite being in the world of drunk, Marshall nodded.

"And you know I wouldn't let anything hurt you, right?"

Again, Marshall nodded.

"So, I want your confirmation. Zuma really, really, wants you. Would you allow Zuma to have you? Just this once?" Chase whispered, staring deep into his boyfriend's eyes. Marshall looked at him as he processed what was being said, before glancing down to Zuma, who, likewise with Chase, was staring at him hungrily, flushed across his cheeks.

"B-but," Marshall started, squirming. It's not like he didn't trust Zuma, but he had never really allowed another guy to touch him, unless it was Chase. It was weird, exciting, and yet, a part of him wanted this; really wanted this.

"Trust me?"

"O-okay." Marshall said, and almost instantly, Marshall was surrounded by heat; lots and lots of heat. The man cried out, body arched as both Chase and Zuma planted kisses on every inch of his skin, hands gripping tightly on his thighs and arms, and Marshall was pretty much helpless against the onslaught.

It felt good. No, it felt amazing. Every nerve in his body was on fire, whether it was because the alcohol made him extremely sensitive or because Chase knew his body well, Marshall wasn't sure, and then, you had Zuma, who seemed like an expert with fingers and tongue, because Marshall could feel those nimble little things on his ribcage, feathery touch making him tremble, while his tongue circled around his navel, sucking, and nibbling.

Chase himself was having fun with Marshall's nipples, smirking to himself as Marshall whimpered and squirmed whenever he tweaked one or the other, nose buried between his neck and shoulder, feeling every little quiver Marshall makes. Marshall could feel Zuma's tongue tracing his stomach, before his hands moved down towards his crotch, where his groin laid uncomfortably inside his jeans.

"Please," He begged, thrusting upwards where his groin met Zuma's chin, and he groaned. "More please."

"Eager little thing," Chase muttered inside his ear, Chase's hand slipping between himself and Marshall, sliding down his back, and gave his ass a little squeeze. Marshall closed his eyes as a light blush came across his face, not sure whether or not he was happy in his situation, or embarrassed. Meanwhile, Zuma had undone the button of his jeans, and the sound of a zipper filled the room, where Marshall's cock stood proudly, weeping right in front of Zuma's face.

"No undewweaw. Nice." Zuma said, but before Marshall could say anything, Zuma dipped his head down low, taking him in. Almost instinctively, Chase muffled Marshall's mouth with his own, Marshall's loud moan conceal so that their neighbors doesn't hear what was going on. A chuckle escaped Zuma's lips, vibrating on Marshall's dick, and the white male had to close his eyes while Zuma sucked him off. Chase continued to play tongue hockey with his boyfriend, the hand now groping Marshall's ass, while greedily sucking every noise Marshall makes.

The boy was hot. So freaking hot. He was pretty sure the room was on fire as well, but Marshall could care less, because he was being sucked on and groped, and should he remember this by tomorrow, well, it'll probably be the last time Chase ever got anything from him.

Never mind that, though, as Zuma had cupped him from below and gently rubbed him, eager to make Marshall cum. He was pretty sure he was close to, as he felt his lower self tighten, almost as if he was about to blow, when Chase stopped kissing him and spoke.

"He can't cum, yet. You have to take him, remember?" He said. Marshall whined when Zuma pulled away, giving Chase a nod, and the amber-eyed male looked down at his flushed boyfriend. "Get on your knees, baby boy." He hissed, and Marshall found himself blushing before doing exactly what Chase told him to.

Another thing he hated about being drunk - he's all too ready to yield to his lover.

Marshall had clumsily gotten into the position, panting, as he came eye to eye with Chase's cock. Poor baby, Marshall thought, staring at his crotch. He needs to breathe. While Marshall had been in his mind, Zuma had easily pulled his jeans down, until they pool around his ankles, before staring at Chase.

"Lube?"

"Got it." Chase said, digging into his pocket and pulling out a small tube before handing it to Zuma. Once Zuma had it, Chase began to eye his boyfriend, who was eyeing his cock, and merely raised an eyebrow. Bending down low, he whispered into Marshall's ear. "You want it?"

"Uh-huh." Marshall nodded, staring up into Chase's eyes. Chase lean back, spreading his legs.

"It's all yours, baby." Chase whispered, grinning when the look of want and determination came across Marshall's face. The boy had been ready to crawl over and unzip Chase's pants, when he felt Zuma poke his hole, causing him to moan, bucking at the finger. Grinning at the reaction, Zuma began to pull in and out of Marshall, who began to thrust in time with his finger, until Zuma added another, and Marshall pretty much became a moaning, bucking, mess. "Marshall, babe. I'm in need of you." Chase reminded him.

Opening his eyes, Marshall looked to see Chase still wasn't out of his pants yet, and despite how good he felt on Zuma's finger, was determined to please his boyfriend. Slowly, the white-skinned boy made his way over to Chase, face near his hard-on, and began unzipping him. If he was surprised by the lack of underwear, Marshall didn't show it, and instead, hurriedly began sucking on Chase, moaning in pleasure. Chase's head tilt when he felt his boyfriend's mouth on him, and thought about cumming right there and then, but held himself back. Instead, he placed one of his hands in Marshall's hair, trending through it lightly, occasionally tugging on it to make Marshall swallow more of him, but had allowed Marshall to do his own thing.

Marshall, meanwhile, was in heaven. It's been a while since he had given Chase a blowjob, and as always, Chase's cum was simply Chase. It was strong, but not enough to be a turn-off, and it wasn't sickly sweet either, it just was and god, did Marshall miss this. Missed doing this with Chase.

But it wasn't like that was the only thing either.

Marshall was still reminded that there was another person in the picture; one that's currently probing for his prostate, and couldn't help but groan out loud on Chase's cock when Zuma found it. This in turn made Chase groan, but much more softer than Marshall.

"He's weady." Zuma said, pulling his fingers away. Marshall groaned at the loss, and looked up at Chase in reassurance. Chase simply smiled at him and placed a kiss on his temple.

"You're doing great babe, but maybe that's the alcohol talking." Chase whispered, and Marshall moaned in agreement, taking Chase into his mouth. For a moment, Marshall was worried about Zuma, until he felt the boy behind him, and realized he wasn't nearly as big as Chase, but the girth was still large. Marshall whimpered, tears appearing in his eyes, as Zuma slowly took him in, until Marshall could feel his pubic hair on his bare back. With a single nod, Zuma began to thrust into Marshall, slowly.

The wave of the knock practically sent Marshall further down on Chase's cock, making him choke, and the tears fell. Chase simply patted his head as Zuma pulled back, and Marshall eased up on the cock in his mouth, up until Zuma thrust into him again, and once again, Marshall had a mouth full of cock. The man whimpered, but easily adjusted the muscles in his throat, allowing him to take more and more as Zuma rocked into him again and again.

Eventually, the pace picked up, and suddenly, Marshall was moaning like a whore, as he was fucked in both ways. Chase could barely keep himself together, and Marshall couldn't help but wince when he'd felt Chase's grip on his hair tighten, and Marshall found himself immobilized, because Zuma was gripping him harshly on his hips, enough to leave a bruise, and Chase was practically slamming into him.

It went on like this for hours, and Marshall knew he was dripping like a fountain by the time Zuma came. The chocolate-skinned male immediately pulled back, and Marshall could feel his cum on his back and ass, and something about that made him moan, whilst still sucking on Chase's cock.

His boyfriend wasn't done with him until minutes after, cumming down his throat, forcing Marshall to drink it all, and it was because of that, that Marshall came too, without ever being touched.

Pants echoed the room, and the two friends looked down at Marshall lovingly.

"Thank you babe." Chase said, planting a kiss on Marshall's forehead. Marshall simply grinned, tired, and he was pretty sure they knew it too, because Zuma was chuckling again. He wasn't sure what their conversation was about, as Marshall had drifted off to sleep by then, but he knew that whatever made Chase happy, made him happy too.

Up until the next day, where Marshall couldn't stop throwing up, and could barely sit without wincing. Then, Marshall was not a happy person.

A/n: Cause I wanted a ChasexMarshallxZuma fanfic. Although, I'd imagine it being more romantic than smut. Whatever.