Chapter 16 #3
The words tore out of him, frantic and raw, like he was fighting something he couldn’t see. It didn’t take much imagination to guess what had found him in his dreams.
Beckett and I were out of bed in seconds, racing down the hallway and into Theo’s room.
He was tangled in his sheets, wearing only boxers, sweat clinging to him like a second skin.
Pale moonlight slipped through the curtains and caught along his chest and stomach, turning the sheen on his skin into something almost glassy.
Damp strands of hair stuck to his forehead, and his breathing came in shallow bursts, like he’d been running for miles and still hadn’t found safety.
The screaming faded into whimpering.
Soft at first, nearly lost in the sound of his breath, then a little louder, like something inside him was breaking apart in slow motion. His fingers twitched against the mattress, curling and uncurling, his body tight with a fear that hadn’t realized it was alone yet.
Beckett climbed in from one side. I climbed in from the other.
We didn’t speak. We didn’t need to.
Theo lay between us, still caught in whatever nightmare had dragged him under, and we moved carefully around him like he might shatter if touched too suddenly. I wrapped an arm around his waist from behind while Beckett settled close in front of him, one hand resting gently on Theo’s stomach.
Our hands met there.
Fingers brushing first, then lacing together without hesitation, resting against Theo’s bare skin.
It was an odd kind of intimacy, holding Beckett’s hand on Theo’s body, but it felt right.
Like a quiet promise. Like we were building a small wall around him with nothing but warmth and presence.
The bed was too small for all three of us, limbs pressed together at awkward angles, but none of us moved away.
Theo’s breathing slowly began to steady. Then his eyes opened.
He blinked a few times, looking from Beckett to me, confusion flickering across his face before recognition settled in. His head tipped back slightly as he let out a tired groan.
“I was having a nightmare, wasn’t I?” he muttered, voice rough with sleep. “I haven’t had one this bad in a long time. Beckett knows. We used to sleep together when we were younger. It’d prevent them sometimes, but not always.”
He shifted to face Beckett, his back finding the contours of my chest as if drawn there by gravity. My hand settled on his hip, steadying him against the tremors that still ran through his body.
I felt his breathing change when I pulled him closer—a small catch, then a sigh.
“It hurts seeing you two together without me,” Theo whispered, his voice breaking as my body responded to his nearness, to the way he pressed against me with unconscious need.
“God—I need this right now. After nightmares, I need an orgasm. A release. Something to remind me that I belong to you both.” His words dissolved into a plea.
“Mmm, fuck. Your body feels so good against mine.”
His movements became deliberate, desperate, soft sounds escaping him with each breath. “Please, Asher.” My name in his mouth sent heat through me.
Though his eyes held Beckett’s, he called for me—allowing Beckett to witness this vulnerability that, until tonight, had been mine alone to see.
Without hesitation, I freed him from his boxers, feeling him harden further in my palm as I began a steady rhythm. Each stroke drew a sound from him that vibrated against my ear, his precum providing all the slickness I needed to continue my ministrations.
Theo’s fingers found Beckett’s hair, twisting into the soft strands, tugging just enough to make Beckett’s breath catch.
Their eyes met and held, something electric passing between them that made my own rhythm falter for half a second.
Beckett’s pupils dilated, his lips parting slightly as he watched Theo’s face contort with each stroke of my hand.
The air in the room seemed to thicken, charged with something new and fragile that none of us dared name.
My heart hammered against my ribs as I realized I wasn’t just touching Theo anymore—I was part of something larger, something we were all creating together.
His voice cracked with desperation.
“Please,” he begged, “I need to finish. Take me. Use me however you want.” His eyes were wild, unfocused, still half-trapped in whatever terror had gripped him moments before.
I knew this pattern—the frantic need for release after trauma, the way his body sought connection when his mind was most vulnerable.
But I also knew that tomorrow, with clarity restored, he’d be grateful I hadn’t taken what he offered so recklessly now.
The nightmare still had its claws in him, making him seek escape through any means possible.
“Don’t worry,” I whispered near his ear, crowding his body with mine as I pushed us closer to Beckett.
Theo’s fingers dug into Beckett’s shoulders, his grip desperate and unrelenting, as though Beckett were the only solid thing in a world spinning out of control.
“I’ll take care of you, baby. You’ll fill my hand with your cum, then you’ll fall back asleep with us surrounding you, where we belong,” I said, looking at Beckett.
Beckett’s mouth crashed against mine without warning, stealing my breath as Theo shuddered between us.
Warm wetness spilled over my fingers as I continued working him through his release, only stopping when his gasps turned to whimpers of oversensitivity.
I withdrew my hand, sticky evidence of his pleasure coating my palm.
“Come here,” I murmured, bringing my hand to Theo’s lips. “Good boys clean up the messes they’ve made.”
“Let me,” Beckett whispered, his request sending a jolt through me.
I held my palm flat between them, watching as their tongues traced patterns across my skin, their eyes half-closed in shared intimacy. I forced myself to look away, mentally reciting hockey rules and random statistics—anything to calm the ache building within me. This moment wasn’t about my needs.
I slipped away to the bathroom, returning moments later to find Theo already surrendered to sleep, his face peaceful now, the nightmare forgotten.
“So this is what he meant about needing release after,” Beckett whispered, his eyes questioning.
“Yeah,” I murmured, settling back onto the bed, finding my place behind Theo. “It helps him come back to himself. I’ve learned to keep my own needs in check when he gets like this.” A soft laugh escaped me despite the heaviness of the moment.
“It doesn’t scare me off. If anything, it’s kind of hot. I just want to make sure I’m not taking advantage of him,” he admitted.
“He needs it. It grounds him, brings him back to reality,” I repeated the things he had said before.
“He’s really just…sound asleep again. Just like that,” Beckett observed, watching Theo with parted lips, as if he couldn’t believe the last few minutes were real.
“He won’t mind sleeping in the mess he created?
” More like the mess I created by smearing his cum around him, but to be fair, I tucked him back into his boxers and checked the bed and sheets for any mess left behind, not wanting him to fall asleep in it.
“He’ll just have to wake up and wash his dick,” I said, chuckling.
Beckett yawned. “It wasn’t my orgasm this time, but I’m equally tired. Thanks for taking care of me earlier, and not kicking me out of the bed.” I watched as Beckett’s eyes slowly closed and sleep took over once again.
Only then, with both of them surrendered to sleep, did the words find their way out of me. “Taking care of you feels like finding home,” I breathed, the confession barely disturbing the air between us. “I’m falling for you both.”