Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Chase
Chase knew he needed to get off the apps.
As far as anonymous encounters went, tonight could have been worse, but random connections had never really been his thing.
He didn’t breathe properly until the hotel door closed behind him.
The hallway felt too quiet after the warmth of the room, the patterned carpet stretching endlessly in both directions as if giving him space to reconsider every decision that had led him there.
He walked fast at first.
Not running. Just… leaving.
By the time he reached the elevator, his pulse was still uneven, adrenaline humming under his skin in a way he couldn’t quite shake.
The doors slid open.
Empty.
Good.
He stepped inside and stared at his reflection in the mirrored wall.
His hair was a mess. Shirt half-buttoned. Expression somewhere between stunned and unsettled.
“Jesus,” he muttered under his breath.
The elevator hummed downward.
He replayed the moment over and over , the turn of Tommy’s head, recognition landing all at once, the way the air in the room had shifted without anyone raising their voice.
Tommy.
Of all people.
He hadn’t seen him in years, not really. Social media glimpses didn’t count. Neither did holiday photos his mom insisted on showing him.
But in person?
It had felt immediate. Familiar in a way that ignored time entirely.
And dangerous in a way Chase hadn’t expected.
The elevator dinged.
He stepped into the parking garage, cool air hitting his face and finally clearing his head a little.
Only then did he realize how tightly wound his body still felt.
He unlocked his car and slid into the driver’s seat, shutting the door harder than necessary. The quiet wrapped around him instantly.
For a moment, he just sat there.
Hands on the steering wheel.
Breathing.
His phone lit up in the cupholder.
Three notifications.
All from the same contact. Reason two why Chase knew he needed to delete the apps.
Evan.
You up?
Where’d you disappear to?
Still coming over?
Chase stared at the screen.
Evan was easy. Predictable. No complications, no conversations afterward. The kind of arrangement that worked precisely because it never meant anything.
He’d already been pulling away from it for weeks.
Tonight made that feeling sharper.
His thumb hovered over the screen before he finally typed:
Not tonight.
He hesitated, then added:
Think I’m done doing this.
The typing bubble appeared immediately.
Chase locked the phone before the reply could come through and dropped it back into the cupholder.
He leaned his head against the seat and closed his eyes.
Was this something Tommy did regularly?
The thought surprised him with how quickly jealousy followed.
Not possessive, he had no claim to anything, just a strange tightness in his chest at the idea of Tommy belonging to a world Chase hadn’t known existed.
And Logan.
Chase exhaled slowly.
Logan hadn’t looked angry. Hadn’t looked territorial or dismissive. Just… steady. Protective without being aggressive.
That mattered more than Chase wanted to admit.
It had been his first time walking into something like that , first time even considering it , and the last thing he wanted was for Logan to think he’d crossed a line.
He hadn’t even stayed.
Hadn’t finished.
The realization hit him again, sudden and physical.
He laughed quietly under his breath.
“Yeah,” he muttered to the empty car. “That’s gonna be a problem.”
Energy buzzed under his skin, nowhere to go now that adrenaline had nowhere to land.
He started the engine, shaking his head.
Cold shower.
Maybe two.
And the gym.
Thank god his gym was open twenty-four hours.
He pulled out of the garage, city lights sliding across the windshield as Tommy’s surprised expression replayed in his mind, wide-eyed, breathless, unmistakably real.
Chase tightened his grip on the wheel.
He told himself it was just coincidence.
Just one strange night.
He wasn’t sure he wanted it to be.
Chase merged onto the empty road, the city thinning around him as late-night traffic faded into scattered headlights and long stretches of quiet asphalt.
He drove without music.
Needed the silence.
Streetlights flickered across the windshield in steady intervals, each one pulling another memory loose whether he wanted it or not.
Tommy at thirteen, barefoot in someone’s backyard, refusing to play whatever organized game their parents had planned.
Tommy laughing when adults got too serious.
Tommy saying exactly what he thought, consequences be damned.
Back then, everyone had called Chase the easy one. The good kid. The reliable one.
Perfect.
He almost laughed at that now.
Perfect had never felt effortless.
Perfect meant schedules. Expectations. Performing well enough that no one asked questions. It meant becoming whatever version of himself made other people comfortable.
Tommy had never done that.
Tommy moved through the world like rules were suggestions instead of requirements, messy, honest, unapologetically himself.
Chase had admired that long before he understood why.
He didn’t want to win Tommy. He wanted to stand where he was standing and not be pushed out of it.
Being around Tommy always made things feel simpler. Like life didn’t have to be negotiated so carefully. Like maybe you could just… want something and reach for it.
He tightened his grip on the steering wheel.
Tonight, for a few brief moments, it had felt like that again.
Uncomplicated.
Real.
He pulled into the nearly empty parking lot of his gym, neon lights glowing against the dark windows. The familiar sight grounded him immediately, routine, control, something he understood.
He killed the engine but didn’t get out right away.
Tommy’s voice echoed in his head.
Chase is perfect.
Chase shook his head softly.
Tommy had never understood.
Or maybe Chase had just never let anyone see enough of him to know better.
He exhaled slowly, tension still humming under his skin. unfinished energy with nowhere to settle.
And did he cum hands free. Chase knew gay men loved his body, loved his cock, but most guy say they want it, think they want to try it:
It’s to big.
It hurts.
Or they try to suffer through the pain. And Chase never liked fucking someone who couldn’t wait for it to be over.
Tonight what he saw was none of that. He was connected to someone who was overwhelmed by pleasure.
Chase definitely needed a cold shower first.
Then lifting until his thoughts finally quieted.
He grabbed his gym bag from the back seat and stepped out into the cool night air.
As he walked toward the entrance, one realization followed him stubbornly, impossible to ignore.
Being around Tommy didn’t make him feel perfect.
It made him feel possible.
And for the first time in a long time, Chase wasn’t sure he wanted things to go back to simple.