And Chase realized, watching Logan’s hand remain steady on Tommy’s back while Tommy reached blindly to hook his fingers through Chase’s wrist, this wasn’t about adding someone new.
It was about learning how three people could hold the same space without anyone letting go.
“Do you guys have one?” Chase asks,
“Of course we do” Tommy replies, opening a drawer of the nightstand. “They’re all clean, i sterilize them after every use.”
That was an impressive collection, Chase thought, his eyes went wide. “Do you have a favorite?”
Tommy handed him a purple one shaped like a tear drop with a slightly flared based. He had the same one in a larger size, but after the fun they all just had Chase thought this size would do just fine.
Chase squeezes a generous amount of lube onto the purple, tapered butt plug and Tommy's eager asshole. He circles Tommy's hole with his index finger, feeling the puckered flesh quiver under his touch.
He gently eases the tip of his finger into Tommy's ass, feeling the tight, warm flesh envelop him.
"Want to give me a hand, Logan?" Chase asks, looking up at his partner.
Logan grins and lubes up his own finger, then kneels down beside Chase.
Together, they work their fingers into Tommy's ass, scissoring them to stretch his hole.
Tommy moans softly, his hips shifting in response to their intrusion. It doesn't take long before Tommy's ass is slick and stretched, ready for the plug.
Chase picks up the butt plug, pressing its tapered tip against Tommy's glistening hole.
He applies gentle pressure, and the plug begins to sink in, Tommy's ass swallowing it inch by inch. Logan holds Tommy's cheeks apart, giving Chase a better angle. Once the plug is fully seated, they both take a moment to admire the sight of Tommy's filled hole.
“Ok, Ok, lets get some food.” Tommy barked.
Logan handed Chase a cloth and carefully wipes away the excess lube from Tommy's cheeks and thighs, making sure not todislodge the plug. Tommy shivers at the touch of the cool cloth against his sensitized skin.
Chapter Fourteen
Tommy
By the time Tommy finishes buttoning his shirt, the apartment has that charged, quiet kind of calm, like everything normal has been gently moved aside to make room for something private.
Logan is at the dresser, pulling on a clean tee, moving with the same unhurried confidence he always has. Chase lingers near the doorway, towel still slung low around his hips, damp hair pushing into his forehead like he didn’t bother to tame it before stepping back into the room.
Tommy should feel shy.
Instead, he feels… held.
Not in a suffocating way. In a way that makes him want to stand a little straighter.
He checks himself in the mirror and realizes he’s smiling like an idiot.
Logan catches it.
“What?” Logan asks, already amused.
Tommy shrugs, pretending he’s busy smoothing the front of his shirt. “Nothing.”
“Mm,” Logan hums, unconvinced. He steps closer behind Tommy, close enough that Tommy can feel his heat at his back. Logan’s hands settle briefly on Tommy’s shoulders, steady pressure, a quiet claim that isn’t ownership so much as reassurance.
Chase’s gaze meets Tommy’s in the mirror. Not staring. Not hungry in an obvious way. Just attentive like he’s looking at Tommy as a person, not a moment.
It makes Tommy’s throat tighten in a way that has nothing to do with nerves.
