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Matthew reached for her hand. “Mom, this is good— ”

She jerked away and peered into the oven. “Dinner's ready. Have a seat.”

Richard patted Matthew on the shoulder and whispered, “We're not giving up.”

Lydia puttered around the kitchen and had a huge feast on the table in minutes. A roast, boiled potatoes, asparagus with hollandaise sauce, and homemade applesauce.

“Tell me about yourselves,” she said as she dished out the food.

Richard spoke first. He told her about his business, his house, and his family. She asked us our ages and didn't seem bothered by the difference with Matthew's. Richard talked more easily than I, but I did my best to add more than my usual one comment every hour.

Halfway through the meal, the talk dried up, and we finished our food in silence. No one seemed concerned by the quiet but me. I didn't have the social skills to determine if it meant she didn't like us. I threw Richard a concerned glance.

He smiled at me then spoke. “Now I know where Matthew learned how to cook. This is excellent.”

“I can see you have a sense of humor. My son has to be the worst cook. I remember one Mother's Day when he made macaroni and cheese from a box. It came out a dark brown color. I had to smile and swallow and try not to gag.”

The tension in my chest eased as everyone around the table laughed. I liked hearing about Matthew from someone who'd known him all his life. Someone who knew all his secrets. Someone who loved him.

“Well, he's come a long way,” I said. “He makes the best dishes.”

“Really?” She set her fork down. “Matty?”

“I... uh... ” Matthew placed his napkin on the table. He slid it under the edge of his plate and back out, repeating the action several times until he lowered his hands in his lap. “I took a cooking class.”

“When?” she asked.

He dipped his head again and ran a hand through his dark waves. “Um... I started it the Monday after Richard asked us to move in. I wanted to be able to do something... for them.”

Richard's mouth dropped open.

I couldn't help myself; I beamed at Matthew. “You're a quick study. I've never had such good food.”

Matthew smiled back. It was a nervous and embarrassed smile, but it relaxed me nonetheless.

Richard kissed Matthew's cheek. “You're something else, kid.”

Lydia stood and shifted on her feet. She carried empty plates to the kitchen counter. “Why don't you boys head out to the living room? I'll bring in coffee and cookies.”

Matthew jumped up. “Mom, let me do the dishes.”

She shooed him away. “Nonsense. It doesn't take much work. That's why you bought me the dishwasher last Mother's Day, right? This is my day to treat you and your friends.” She patted his ass and pushed him toward the doorway.

Richard made a move to help her, but Matthew gave him a look warning him not to try.

The living room was a treat. Framed pictures of a young Matthew covered every table and shelf in the small room. Matthew in a baseball uniform, a soccer uniform, holding a puppy, dressed in a
Star Wars
Chewbacca costume, wearing a graduation cap and gown for what had to be a kindergarten ceremony.

Richard and I sat on the couch, pointing out various photos to each other.

“Thanks for coming, guys.” Matthew settled in an armchair across from us.

“She seems okay with things so far,” Richard said. “Maybe she'll have you over next week and everything'll be back to normal.”

Matthew's smile faded. He shook his head. “She's still upset. She doesn't like to be rude.”

I wanted to ask him what else we could do, but she stepped into the room carrying a tray piled high with cookies, brownies, and coffee cups.

Matthew relieved her of the tray and set it on the coffee table. He passed out the cups and desserts and returned to his seat, munching a cookie. “Thanks, Mom. These are good.”

She didn't respond. She stood at the threshold between rooms.

“Mom, come sit and talk with us.”

Lydia tucked her hair behind her ear and slid into a chair by her son. She spoke in a quiet voice. “I just don't understand.”

“This is what I want, Mom. They're good to me.”

She glanced at Richard and me. “My Matty doesn't always make the best decisions.” She spoke more to herself than us. “He was with a boy in college who got him into all sorts of trouble.”

“Mom!” Matthew shrieked.

She jerked her head in his direction. “That boy used you. You don't always know who to trust.”

Richard perched on the edge of the couch, his elbows on his knees, his hands folded together. “I assure you he can trust us. We are not using him.”

“Mom, they're good for me. It's not like Jake.”

She shook her head, her curly hair swaying in waves. “I want you to be happy. I want you to be loved. But, Matty, why does it have to be both? Why can't you make a choice?”

“I couldn't choose, even if I wanted to. It isn't about one of them. It's about all of us. I'm happy right now, and it's because of that. Because of them.” He looked our way before continuing. “When Richard looks at me, I know there isn't anything he wouldn't do for me. I can feel how much he wants me to be with him, live in his home, spend time with him. He needs me. And Luke. He's a strong person. The strongest person I think I've ever met. He's quiet. He holds a lot in. But when he does say something, it means so much more. He's passionate. He always, always tries to make me feel good. About me.”

My jaw dropped.

Richard reached for my hand and held it on his lap. He smiled like Matthew had given him keys to a new luxury convertible.

Lydia stared at Matthew for a brief moment, her mouth open, her dark eyes wide. She glanced at a high school graduation picture of him on the table beside her. She picked it up, wiped the spotless glass with a napkin, and set it down again. “How does it work? How do three men live together, communicate with each other?”

Richard didn't give Matthew a chance to answer. “We handle it pretty good, I'd say. At least two of us do.” I got a pointed look. “And we're working on Luke. We're not giving up on him.”

Matthew nodded. “That's what we're doing, Mom. We're trying to make this work. All of us.”

“I care for your son, ma'am.” Richard squeezed my hand. “A great deal. I won't hurt him.”

She looked my way. “And you?”

I hesitated, but when I settled on the words, I said them to Matthew more than her. “I care about him, and Richard, more than I've let myself care for anybody in a long time. I'll try my best not to let anyone hurt him. Not even myself.”

She bit at her bottom lip and tucked her hair back again. “I guess a mother can't ask for more than that. I want you to be happy.”

“I am, Mom. This time I really am.”

She watched her son for a moment more. Maybe she deemed our words sincere because she stood and dropped a kiss on his head. The light was back in her eyes.

We visited for a while longer and learned a few more tales about Matthew's childhood, including the time he rescued five small puppies from a storm drain. His mom laughed as she relayed the details of how she had to convince a soaking wet, filthy, bright-eyed ten-year-old Matthew they couldn't keep five German shepherds in their two-bedroom apartment.

An hour later, she sent us on our way with hugs and a plate full of cookies. She was a strong force for such a small, quiet woman, and I liked her. Even though she'd upset him, her concern had been out of love for him, and anyone who cared for him ranked high in my book.

“Take care of each other,” she said with a wave.

“We will, Mom.”

“And, Matty, I expect you here for dinner next week. All of you are welcome anytime.”

“Thanks, Mom.” Matthew bounced his way to Richard's car.

We headed to the bedroom as soon as we got home. Matthew was eager and excited like he hadn't been since the last time he'd gone to his mom's. Naked in a flash, he watched us, silently pleading for us to kiss him, to touch him.

“What do you want, kid?” Richard asked.

“Me?”

“This is your night to celebrate.”

Matthew smirked and crawled up the bed. “I want to be inside you, Richard. And have you inside me, Luke.”

“Perfect.” I followed after him. I loved to hear him vocalize his desires.

“But first, I want Richard to suck me and you to rim me, get me ready.” He smiled wide. His dark eyes glowed.

Richard got on the bed. “I do like your ideas, kid.”

We situated ourselves until we had plenty of room to work him over.

Richard spoke one last time before he took Matthew's prick into his mouth. “We're gonna make this one to remember, Matthew.”

I licked his balls and made my way back. He lifted his legs higher. His body twitched and begged for me. I breathed deep. His musky scent flooded my nostrils. I loved giving him pleasure. He was the most responsive man I'd ever been with. Every touch, every stroke, every lick stood out, made him crazy. And with Richard adoring his cock, we sent Matthew moaning and writhing even faster.

I didn't want to stop, but Matthew was desperate for more. I got on my knees. “On your back, Richard.” I slicked my hands and put one on Matthew's cock, the other on Richard's ass. In, out, up, down. Over and over until Matthew thrust into my hand and Richard drove onto my fingers, both wanting more.

I withdrew my hands and slicked my own cock. “C'mere, Matthew.”

I helped him onto his knees. Richard spread wide, lifting his legs, and Matthew pushed in. I let him thrust a few times. Then I stilled them and plunged into Matthew's heat, giving him a night he'd remember.

He kept talking, pleading, praising as he rocked between us.

Then he stopped. His body tensed.

Something was wrong.

He caressed Richard's cheek. “Love you.” He dropped his hand to the big man's chest. “Richard. I love you.” He threw his head onto my shoulder, reached around, and touched my face. “I love you, Luke. Love you both.”

I'd never be just another fuck to him. I'd never be just another guy he dated. Tightness welled in my chest. It overwhelmed me. I wanted to come so I could rid my body of the pressure in my balls, if nothing else.

Richard raised a hand to Matthew's face. Then Matthew's hips rocked, and Richard groaned.

I sucked in a breath and thrust, not sure what else I could give him.

Richard came, and I followed, still shooting into Matthew when his body tightened and screams of pleasure poured out of him. It sounded like nothing I'd ever heard from him before. We collapsed together as one, floating, breathing heavy, stuck together, not because of sweat or cum, but because we couldn't let go. I couldn't let go.

Richard shifted out from under us. He wrapped his arms around Matthew. His voice filled with awe. “Matthew?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you too.” He pulled back, and they stared at each other. “Almost from the first night I met you.”

Matthew gave him a soft, slow kiss.

Then Richard leaned over him and whispered in my ear. “And, don't freak, but I love you too.”

The words tumbled around in my head. I could barely speak. “I... I can't... not— ”

Richard released his hold on Matthew. He rubbed his hand along my arm. “I know. It's okay.”

Matthew kissed me. “I love you and I'll wait.”

“We both will,” Richard said.

They knew me well, and they accepted me— without judgment or a desire to change me. Would it hurt to tell them? Would it kill me?

“I can't.”

Richard slid closer. He pressed his face against my neck and whispered over my skin, “It's okay.”

Matthew ran his palm along my chin. “Don't be afraid.” He kissed me again, light kisses on my lips, my cheeks, my chin. “Not about this. This should be the easy part.”

Young, innocent, and naive. He couldn't understand. Love was never easy.

Yet, it did feel that way with them. Maybe I could— but I'd always trusted my instincts. I was protecting myself for a reason. Even if I didn't want to think about the why of it.

They kissed me again and again until sleep lured us into dreams where love was enough and lovers never left.

If only I didn't have to wake from the dream.

Matthew snored and repositioned his head on my thigh. I shifted my ass on the couch until my dick lay an inch from his mouth.

I had it bad. Watching the man sleep got me hard.

I ran my palm over his cheek. I couldn't resist the dark hair over pale skin. The two-day-old stubble scratched the heel of my hand. The rest of me wanted to feel the scrape, the tease. My chest, my abs, my balls. Everywhere tingled, ached to feel his face graze over it.

I rested my hand in the waves of his hair. I listened to his soft snores and focused in on the movie again, a new reinvented superhero flick Matthew'd been dying to see. He made it through the first thirty minutes.

Stupid sleeping man— who needed to remember to shave every day and get more sleep at night. He was driving me crazy.

It wouldn't be as bad if Richard would get off his computer and come into the living room. The man hadn't closed a deal in over four months, and he couldn't hide the disappointment or the fact that he was feeling the crunch where his finances were concerned. He worked every chance he got, searched online real estate listings, made calls, pitched project after project. Success accompanied none of it. A tight coil of tension had attached to the man's shoulders. Even when we made love, I could feel it, and nothing Matthew or I did could work out the frustration.

A half hour after Matthew feel asleep, Richard finally made it into the living room. He sat in the chair across from us. I gave up on the movie and left the local news on instead.

I eyed Richard. Would the nonsexual closeness between Matthew and me bother him? He smiled at me and licked his lips in the way that always told me he was aroused. Nothing in his demeanor indicated anything akin to jealousy. We'd handled that avenue of a threesome with few problems. Why was that?

Right then, I didn't care. I returned his stare and stroked a sleeping Matthew on the back. Richard lifted his hips and slid down the cushion until his ass hung off the edge of the chair. I lowered my gaze to the bulge at the front of his pants.