Page 46 of Rough Heat

Josh pressed his cheek against Leo’s bicep. “That sucks, I’m sorry.”

“Thanks. But, yeah. It was a hard job, and I didn’t take the steps to take care of myself through it, and it took a toll on me. And meeting you guys…I think it put things in perspective. I mean, it was a place I had to get to anyway, but you guys sort of helped me along.”

Damon tilted his head. “In what way?”

“Well…I mean, I guess you know this by now, but I really liked you guys. Like you guys. And felt safe with you in a way I didn’t with other people. I don’t know exactly why. I mean, you treated me great, and you are great, but…I dunno.”

Josh nodded. “It was the same for us. We just…clicked, didn’t we?”

“Yeah,” Leo said softly.

Damon leaned in. “I hope you know that we want to date you. And to take it slow.”

“I like the sound of slow,” Leo replied.

“Okay,” Damon said like he was sealing something, making it official.

Leo smiled and felt the happiness wash through him.

***

Life rolled clumsily on. Therapy got more challenging for a while after he started dating Josh and Damon, insecurities crawling out of the earth at the dead of night and clinging to him in the morning. He had to get up for work, though, and by the time he was with the kids for an hour, that feeling would slew off. It was hard to focus on himself when he had a three-year-old asking for his attention.

It didn’t stop him from dating Josh and Damon, either. Despite all the pressure he inevitably felt to make this thing with them work, he tried to focus on having fun.

And it was. He’d sweat nervously on the way there, but once he saw Josh and Damon, everything would align. The conversation would flow between them, jumping from person to person playfully or turn deep and trusting. They had a picnic in Prospect Park, and Josh opened up to him about what it had been like to be sick for so long.

“I don’t wanna be all depressing about it, but I was definitely convinced I was going to die by the time I was thirty-five, at the latest. Things were just going from bad to worse, and each treatment that didn’t work just made me more hopeless.”

Leo squeezed Josh’s hand as Damon planted a soft kiss on his forehead, but Josh went on, voice strong.

“But, you know, it taught me to take everything day by day, and to appreciate the things I have, and to throw myself into the things I want without fear because…if I’m going to die in a few years, who cares? And now I’m strong and have an ass that won’t quit and still feel like that, so. Hashtag blessed.”

Leo laughed. “Dork,” he said affectionately as Damon wrapped his arms around Josh from behind, and Leo knew he was unaccountably lucky to be let in so readily.

Leo, too, opened up as the weeks passed. Not about everything—there were some things he only felt comfortable sharing in therapy—but about a lot. Especially when they went out at night, ending up crammed on some semi-quiet doorstep with ice cream melting over their knuckles. Leo would brace himself and tell them a little about his dad, small memories that were stuck like spokes digging into flesh when he moved. About the little cruelties—how he’d grab Leo’s hair and pull his face close, breath hot and foul as he told Leo how useless he was. The way he’d lock Leo in the bathroom with the lights off when he was seven and afraid of the dark. How everything Leo said was stupid, scoffed at, no matter the context.

Leo told them how it had been good, helping Omegas out during heat, how cool some of the clients had been, how interesting. How the meaner ones had started making him feel an echo of that old, familiar hurt from childhood.

Damon and Josh would pull him close and tell him about how much they had liked him from the beginning. How he made Josh laugh, how Leo’s little kindnesses—the way he took care of them, attuned to how they were and reacting seemingly without even realising it—were what made them fall for him. How Leo had a careful way of observing them, of being thoughtful and kind. How he made Damon fill with tenderness, Josh with a sense of safety they’d become lost in.

And true to their word, it went slow. They would kiss—the first time outside Leo’s apartment—Josh wrapping his arms around his neck first, and then Damon swooping in, lips soft and touch chaste.

When they were out, their knees would knock, or hands would rest on thighs, or fingers would tangle together—small, sweet things that kept a current running through the three of them.

It made the tension between them rise. Leo would stand, breathless, Damon’s hand cupping his neck after their good-night kiss and wishing he could just lean forwards and melt into him. Or when he would watch Josh be playful, pressing into Leo and grinning up at him, making him want to devour Josh piece by piece.

So when Josh and Damon finally invited Leo to their apartment two months after their first date, Leo didn’t hesitate to say yes.

***

The part Leo loved the most about dating Josh and Damon was how normal it was. Going out for movies and dinner and stealing chaste kisses at the end of the night.

He had also been excited for this, though, to going to their apartment and all that it entailed.

Leo realised that he’d never had sex with Josh and Damon without the excuse of heat or rut, he was looking forward to what it would be like without that clouding the way.

Of course, it was Josh who started them off, the three of them cuddled up on the couch in a way that was so familiar it was almost painful. Josh tangled his hand with Leo’s, his thin fingers against Leo’s thicker ones, and Leo felt…

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