Logan squeezed once before pulling away, giving space instead of crowding.
Tommy watched the exchange with something warm spreading through his chest.
Six months ago, Logan had been the one anchoring him through every uncertain moment.
Now the steadiness moved freely between them , not owned by anyone, just shared.
Chase caught Tommy looking and smiled faintly, sheepish. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to kill the vibe.”
“You didn’t,” Tommy said immediately. “We don’t have vibes fragile enough to kill anymore.”
Logan snorted. “Speak for yourself. I’m emotionally delicate.”
“You cried at a dog food commercial,” Chase said.
“That dog found a home,” Logan defended.
Tommy laughed, the sound easy and unguarded as he stood and wedged himself between them at the counter, bumping their shoulders apart just enough to fit.
For a second, they stayed like that , crowded together, nowhere else to be.
Tommy rested his head briefly against Logan’s shoulder, then against Chase’s without thinking, the motion instinctive now.
Safe from both sides.
Outside, the city moved like it always had, traffic passing, people living lives that had nothing to do with theirs.
Inside, everything felt quieter.
Complete.
They finished cleaning eventually, though it turned into more joking than actual work. Logan put music on louder. Chase attempted to reorganize the cabinets again until Tommy physically removed him from the task.
By afternoon, the three of them ended up on the couch in a tangled pile that started as watching a movie and slowly became something softer.
Tommy lay stretched across both of them, one of Logan’s arms draped heavy across his waist while Chase absently traced patterns along his forearm.
The movie played unnoticed.
Tommy listened instead to breathing, Logan’s slow and steady behind him, Chase’s lighter rhythm in front, the quiet synchronization of bodies that had learned each other without trying.
He thought back, briefly, to the night on the couch months ago when everything had felt too quiet, too predictable, too distant.
He’d been afraid then that comfort meant something was ending.
Now he understood he’d just never known what real comfort felt like before.
Logan shifted slightly behind him. “You falling asleep?”
“Maybe,” Tommy murmured.
Chase smiled. “You always do this.”
“Do what?”
“Act like you’re listening and then disappear.”
Tommy huffed softly. “I’m right here.”
