Logan, to his credit, didn’t even crack a smile. “That’s good,” he said, like Tommy hadn’t just farted directly into the void. “Means things are moving. Try again?”
Tommy didn’t want to try again. He wanted to be erased from existence. But he pressed, desperate, and was rewarded with another round of deeply undignified noises and a sensationlike a balloon inflating in reverse. The plug didn’t budge. His guts, on the other hand, were apparently auditioning for a horror movie.
He groaned, half in pain, half in shame. “It’s not working,” he muttered. His voice sounded small and pathetic, even to his own ears.
Logan’s hand was suddenly on his shoulder, solid and grounding. “It’s okay. This happens. If it doesn’t come out, we’ll go to the ER. No big deal.”
Tommy’s brain short-circuited at the thought. “I am not going to the ER for this.
A second later, Chase’s voice came from the hallway. “Everything okay?”
Tommy hesitated, then nodded toward the door. “You can come in.”
Chase entered carefully, stopping just inside like he was waiting for permission to exist in the space.
Tommy was up now, his pants fully removed. The three of them stood awkwardly in the space.
Logan’s hand settled reassuringly at Tommy’s waist.
Tommy’s insides still felt like a science experiment. Or possibly a really bad magic trick. He was pretty sure he could feel the plug shifting with every breath, which was not a thing he’d ever wanted to be able to say about any part of his body, ever.
Chase was the first to break the silence. “Okay, champ. Your hole’s opened up further then it needs to plenty of times. You just got to let yourself open up.”
There was a pause, which would have been comical if Tommy wasn’t currently doing his best impression of a biology diagram.
Logan snorted, then caught himself, and tried to look supportive. “That means you just gotta relax, man,”
Chase went on, in the same voice people used to talk down cats stuck in trees. “Logan, why don’t you distract him.”
Logan clearly took the assignment very seriously, because he instantly shifted around until Tommy was basically cradled against his chest, one big hand running slow, deliberate lines through Tommy’s hair.
It was embarrassingly nice. Tommy’s brain promptly decided to melt out of his ears.
“You’re good,” Logan murmured, voice low and steady. “You’re doing awesome. Just focus on me, okay?”
Warmth flooded Tommy’s insides, the words triggered arousal.
That was easier than expected.
Possibly because Logan was, in fact, very distracting.
Tommy closed his eyes and tried to ignore the way his own heart was pounding, and the weird, floaty feeling in his stomach that was definitely not nerves.
Or, okay, it was nerves, but it was also something else.
Chase, meanwhile, had gone into Full Professional Mode. He slicked up his fingers, then got down to business. “I’m going to circle around the base, alright?” he said, as if Tommy was about to get his teeth cleaned and not, you know, the world’s most embarrassing butt plug extraction.
There was a surreal, cold-slippery sensation, and then Chase’s fingers were pressing in against the plug in careful, slow rotations. It was…intense. Not painful, just a lot. Like his whole body had decided to light up at once, every muscle twitching.
Tommy made a noise that was probably illegal in at least three states.
“Fuck,” he hissed, “I think I’m gonna cum just from this.”
Chase laughed, dry and a little shaky, but he didn’t stop. “Not yet. Almost got it.” He twisted, then gave a careful tug, and suddenly the plug slid out with so little resistance Tommy barely registered it was gone until there was just…openness. Like his body wasn’t sure what was supposed to happen next.
No pain.
No tearing.
