They wouldn’t leave him alone. The motherfuckers were relentless—emails, phone calls, visits, dreams.

He couldn’t get away from them, even in his sleep.

He woke up from a dream where they were loving on him, touching him and making him insane, so, without thinking, he shot off a text.

Stop it! Stop making me dream!

Then he lifted himself into his wheelchair to go find some work to do.

The sharp rap on his door came almost immediately. There was no doubt who that knock belonged to. “Let me in, J,” Guard called out.

“Go away! I’m working!” Come in, love. Come in and hold me.

“If you don’t open the locks, I’m going to kick the damn door down. I mean it.” Guard pounded on the wood again.

He hit the locks then turned and squared off for a fight or a fuck or something. Anything.

Guard came in, wearing a fuchsia and puce Hawaiian shirt with a matching pair of puce board shorts. It almost derailed him, but then Guard opened his mouth.

“What’s this bullshit about me making you dream? You know, if you actually let me sleep with you instead of just the odd, hard-won fuck here and there, you wouldn’t have to dream.”

He let himself snap back, roar in frustration. “You two are always bothering me! I can’t sleep anymore without seeing you! I’m so fucking tired of this shit!”

Oh, dear God. That felt so good.

“Then stop fucking pushing us away all the time.” That was Damien. He was back. Their lover was back. It had been months. Months.

“You’re home.” It was the only thing that would come out of his mouth.

“Home and ready for my welcome-home-boy fuck. I am going to get it, right?” Damien closed and locked the door. “Jesus, Guard, you’re a huge fucking stud, what makes you think you need to wear those goddamned awful clothes to be noticed?”

“That’s not the point here, Dame. Focus!”

“Right. Focus. Are you not sleeping, babe?” Damien stared at him, eyes so dark, so hungry.

“You both keep bothering me.”

Damien looked at Guard. “You been bugging him at night?”

“Of course not—he won’t let me stay at night. He hardly lets me love on him. I get laid maybe once a week, if I’m lucky.”

James opened his mouth, but Damien answered first.

“That’s a hundred percent more than I get!”

“You’re never home. You’re always gone!” He wanted in on this fight.

“I’m always gone? That’s how you fucking want it! I would give anything to be able to come home more often, to know you wanted me here, Jamie.” There was honest pain in Damien’s eyes.

“I don’t want it. I miss you. This is your home.”

Guard was grinning like the fucking asshole he was, eyes lighting up at his words.

Damien, on the other hand, seemed honestly shocked. “But…but it’s my fault that. You. That you.”

“You didn’t know he was a psycho. I didn’t know. Guard didn’t know. I hate that you have to have me like this, but we didn’t know.” He hated that he would never be right again, for them.

Damien dropped to his knees in front of James and put his head in James’ lap. “I brought him here, though. Neither of you did that.”

Guard snorted. “We vet people after you book them. If they can get through our net, there was no way you could have known. God damn it, the two of you are the most stubborn fucks ever. We need to be together, all three of us. That’s how we work.”

James rolled his eyes, fingers stroking through Damien’s soft, slick hair, petting gently.

“That’s the best thing I have seen in a long, long time,” murmured Guard, swallowing audibly.

A shudder moved through Damien and he pressed closer, head pushing against James’ belly.

“I’m tired, guys,” he confessed. “I’m tired of being lonely, of being scared.”

Guard closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “And of pushing us away?”

“You wouldn’t know what to do if I stopped pushing you away,” James shot at Guard.

“Well, then, maybe I just need to be more firm about how that’s not going to work anymore. No matter how hard you push, I’m not going away.” Guard came up to him, right in his face. “I’m never going away.”

“Not the first time you’ve said that,” James noted.

“And I’m still here, aren’t I? Maybe I’m done pussyfooting around and letting you use that chair as an excuse. You can’t hide behind the wheels anymore. I won’t let you.”

Damien stared up at him. “I don’t want to hurt anymore, Jamie. I don’t want to be scared to come home.”

Maybe the thing that hurt more than what had happened to him was that sad-little-boy look in their strong, brash lover’s eyes.

“Take me to bed?” It was the best he had. Or maybe not. “To our bed?”

Happiness broke over Damien’s face, cautious but there. “Really?”

“Shut up, Dame, just take him at face-value and get in the bedroom.” Guard grabbed the handles on the back of his chair and turned him, pushing him toward the hall.

He growled—he hated it when anyone touched the chair. “Don’t do that.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Guard growled right back. “Dame, get him into the bedroom.”

Before he could protest again about no one touching his wheelchair, Damien picked him up unceremoniously and carried him down the hall and into the bedroom.

Guard brought his chair along. “So you have it, if you need it.”

“Thanks.”

Damien put him onto the bed, then stood there, almost frozen.

“Guard, you’re both dressed.”

“We are. Dame. Fix that.”

“I’m not touching that monstrosity you’re wearing.”

Well, that was better than frozen, and he had to admit, Damien wasn’t wrong about Guard’s outfit being monstrous.

Guard rolled his eyes. “Get J undressed. I’ll take care of myself. You wouldn’t fold it properly, anyway.”

James was perilously close to laughing at them. Genuinely laughing.

“Promise me you’ll burn the Hawaiian shirts, James?”

“Wouldn’t matter.” He shook his head. “Never did.”

“At least we always see him coming,” Damien offered grudgingly, grabbing the bottom of his T-shirt to slowly raise it up over his chest.

“Not if I take ‘em off,” Guard noted as he folded his shirt and pants.

He and Damien both shot Guard a look. The bastard was huge and muscled and tanned over every fucking inch of his body. He stood out even more without the crazy clothes on.

James was dizzy, just a bit overwhelmed. Oh, who was he kidding? He was panicking.

“He wants your mouth, Dame,” Guard said, like he knew James.

James couldn’t say Guard was wrong. Especially when Damien took his head in, mouth hot and working hard right off the bat.

He gasped, flailing for a moment, embarrassingly pleased when Guard grabbed his hands, giving him something to hold on to. Guard brought their mouths together, too, tongue sliding in to toy with his.

Both men whimpered, Guard’s sound pushing into his mouth, Damien’s turning into vibrations around the head of his cock.

He groaned, his body going tight, his balls drawing up.

Damien shook his head and grabbed his sac, tugging and twisting at the same time.

“Damien!” He pushed the shocked word into Guard’s mouth.

“I don’t care—I haven’t done this in too long and I’m going to make it last more than thirty seconds.” Damien went back to sucking, sinking all the way down on his cock this time.

He cried out and Damien tugged his balls again. It was a maddening rhythm—suck, tug, suck, tug.

“We’ve taught him too well,” Guard whispered in his ear before taking his lobe in and pulling on it. The counterpoint to Damien’s suction was delicious and made him shiver. “Tell me you mean it. Our bed. Our home. Tell me you want us both here.”

“I mean it. I’m tired, Guard. I need you both home.”

“Tell Dame you forgive him. He needs to hear that. He needs to know this isn’t just need talking,” Guard insisted.

“I can’t. I never blamed him. Not ever.”

“You hear that, Dame? The only person blaming you is you. Just like the only person who thinks you’re too broken for us is you, J. The two of you are stubborn idiots!” Guard tugged hard on his earlobe.

“Fuck you, Guard.” He pinched one nipple.

Guard jerked and pushed along his side. “Yeah, I’ve been asking for that for ages now.”

Damien’s suction increased, as if their boy was feeling a lack of attention.

“Oh, fuck.” He arched, his body trying to shift, to move.

Damien grabbed his hips, pushing him down against the mattress like there was nothing at all wrong with him. Then he began bobbing his head, taking James all the way into his throat over and over.

“Let go, J,” Guard whispered. “Give him what he wants. What you both need.”

“Trying. Don’t stop, Dame. Don’t you fucking stop.”

Damien cried out around his cock, the sound vibrating beautifully through his flesh.

“He’s not going to stop,” Guard said. “You couldn’t pay him to stop.”

Damien pulled even harder, clearly agreeing.

“Please…” He didn’t mind begging. He was desperate.

Guard helped, grabbing his right nip and squeezing it hard, and the zing went straight to his balls.

When Damien pressed two fingers inside him, he shot hard, his world disappearing.

He was aware of Damien drinking him down, sucking around the head of his cock, and Guard’s warmth was undeniable. Nothing else was real, though—nothing else existed. He floated there, not ready for it to be more than that yet.

“You want me to leave, J?” Damien asked.

He shook his head. “No.” That was real. He wouldn’t hurt Dame because he wasn’t prepared. “Not now. Not ever.”

* * * *

Damien lay cuddled between James and Guard, a little come-stupid, a little stunned that he was here and no one was asking him to leave or making him feel bad for what he’d done to James. To be fair, that was usually him rather than Guard and James. If James could see past it and keep him here for cuddling, he could try not to blame himself so much.

He’d come back a couple days before the three-week fantasies started and he was glad he had come in early this time.

James had pushed close, holding Guard’s hand over his belly. It was the first time he’d felt right in six years. Truly.

“Stop thinking so much,” muttered Guard.

“Shut up. I can’t help it.”

“You need a spanking, boy.”

Both he and Guard gasped at James’ words, and Damien nodded eagerly. “I’m sure I do. I stayed away again. I hired a homeless guy for one of the fantasies. I double-dipped on one of the other fantasies, earning payment from both sides.”

Guard snorted. “That last one’s a good thing, Dame.”

“Tell me the homeless guy isn’t a serial killer.” James’ voice was dry as dust, but his eyes were twinkling. “Too soon?”

He shrugged. Maybe. He’d been vetting this guy for over a year, though. “I was thorough. More thorough than I’ve been with anyone. You worked your magic, too, right?” James could ferret out anything given enough time.

“I did. He’s a bit of a hippy, that’s all. He’ll make someone one hell of a sub.”

“Do I know how to pick ‘em or do I know how to pick ‘em?” Damien asked. He was good. He really was.

“Takes one to know one,” Guard suggested, voice dry.

“Fuck off.”

“Watch your mouth, baby boy.” James lifted his chin with one hand. “You’ve forgotten your manners.”

A shiver of delight went through him at the words. Oh, fuck. James and Guard were his Doms, only it been all messed up for far too long.

“Sorry, Master,” he said the words quietly, but he wanted to shout and scream to the world that he was back where he belonged.

“I’ll forgive you. This time.” James drew him up closer. “Kiss me.”

Damien did, taking James’ mouth like he owned it. Sex, snuggling and now commands and kisses. He couldn’t believe this was his, that James was letting him and Guard in again. Half of him wanted to revel in it and half of him wanted to pull back and question. If it all went pear-shaped once more, he wasn’t sure he could take it.

As James opened beneath his onslaught, he knew he was going to have to go for it. He couldn’t resist these men.

He didn’t want to. He wanted to come home.