“Didn’t realize I made noise.”
“You do.” Tommy propped his chin against Logan’s chest. “It’s subtle. But it’s there.”
Logan let his hand settle at the small of Tommy’s back, thumb moving absently over warm skin. The contact steadiedhim, gave him something tangible to anchor to while he sorted through what he’d felt.
“You okay?” Tommy asked.
It wasn’t accusatory. Just careful.
Logan considered the question honestly before answering.
“I didn’t expect that,” he said.
Tommy didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “Chase?”
Logan nodded once.
Tommy’s mouth twisted slightly. “Yeah. That was… not on my bingo card.”
Logan studied him, searching for hesitation, shame, anything sharp. He didn’t find it. What he saw instead was processing, the same thing he’d felt in himself.
“You responded differently,” Logan said.
Tommy went quiet for a moment.
“Bad differently?”
Logan turned onto his side so they were facing each other fully.
“No,” he said. “Not bad.”
He paused, choosing his words carefully.
“You weren’t trying to prove anything anymore.”
Tommy’s eyes flickered at that.
“I wasn’t,” he admitted quietly.
That matched what Logan had seen.
At the start of the night, Tommy had been bright and electric, chasing the idea of being wanted. By the end, with Chase behind him, he’d been grounded in a way that hadn’t required applause or reassurance.
Logan ran his hand slowly up Tommy’s back, not to comfort him this time, but to feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing.
“You knew him,” Logan said.
Tommy rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling.
“Unfortunately.”
There was history in that word. Not anger exactly, something older. Competition that had calcified over time.
“Do you still compete with him?” Logan asked.
Tommy’s laugh was soft and humorless.
“I don’t think I ever stopped.”
