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Losing Himself

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Tommy knows he’s at the end of his rope when Ashley asks him an innocent question, and he can’t help but snap, “How the fuck should I know?”

Her eyes go wide and she backs off. From the way her whole face closes off, he knows this was the last straw. He’s expecting her to yell at him. Instead, she turns her back to him.

“Come talk to me when you’re not about to bite my head off.”

Tommy should apologize, but he can’t bring himself to.

On his way to the stage, Adam stops by Tommy’s side, grabbing his shoulder. “What the fuck was that?”

Tommy shrugs him off. “Nothing.”

The show isn’t their worst, but it’s far from being their best. The whole thing feels off to Tommy, like he suddenly has no idea how to play. Even during his solos, there’s something missing that he can’t put his finger on.

As soon as they’re off the stage, Adam grabs Tommy by the scruff of his neck and hauls him to his dressing room. He barely waits until the door closes behind them. “What the hell is your problem?”

Tommy shakes his head. He doesn’t have the words to explain. Not yet.

He turns his back to Adam, ready to leave. He knows he’s asking for trouble, but he can’t stop himself.

Instead of the rough touch and the orders he’s expecting, though, Adam gently grabs his arms to pull him back against his chest. Tommy goes rigid. He’s so close to the edge that it wouldn’t take much to break him. Even Adam’s kind touch hurts him instead of making him feel better.

There’s a kiss against his hair. “What do you need, pretty?”

Tommy trembles at Adam’s soft whisper. He can’t. Not here, not now.

When he opens his mouth to say so, all that comes out is a gurgle that is so far from words, even he can’t recognize it.

Tommy tenses even more when he hears a knock at the door.

Adam brings him closer. “That’s Brian. Are you ready to talk?”

Tommy has to swallow, once, twice, before he finds his voice again. “I don’t know.”

“Come in, Brian,” Adam calls out. It’s his usual way to let whoever is on the other side of the door know that only Brian can come in; everybody else, here and now, isn’t welcome. It makes Tommy relax a little, some of the tension bleeding out of him at the reminder that Adam would never let anyone intrude into his safe space.

Tommy closes his eyes as Brian enters the room and steps closer until he finds himself caught between Brian and Adam, their strength and their warmth the only thing still keeping him on his feet.

They stay like this, immobile, until the fight goes out of Tommy and he leans his back against Adam, letting Adam take his weight. When Adam releases his arms, he locks them around Brian’s waist. He needs to feel them both, to know that no matter how bad he fucks up, they’re not going anywhere. It takes a second for them to get their hands on him, all over him: a soft caress on his back, a hand brushing the hair away from his forehead, a firm grip on the back of his neck.

It takes many more minutes of being touched and just being, before Tommy can bring himself to say, “I’m sorry.”

A hand in his hair makes him turn and tilt his head until he has no choice but to open his eyes and look at them.

“It’s not us you should be apologizing to, Tommy Joe,” Adam reminds him.

A hot flush of shame creeps on Tommy’s face. He’s been acting like an ass to pretty much everyone around him, and there’s nothing he can say that won’t sound like an excuse.

“You just need to hang on until we’re home, baby,” Brian says, softly. He trails his fingers on the line of Tommy’s jaw. “Then we’ll take you out of your head.”

It sounds like the promise Tommy recognizes the words for. He lowers his gaze to the floor. He can’t help but think that he doesn’t deserve it. Not after the way he acted all week.

When he still doesn’t say anything, Brian nudges him with his arm. “Check your phone.”

Tommy fishes his phone out of his pocket. As usual, there are a lot of alerts of all kind, but he doesn’t need to ask to know what Brian means. Not when he notices the two texts; one from Brian, one from Adam. They planned this.

With trembling fingers, Tommy opens the first text, his breath catching in his throat at the sight of the picture. He had no idea it was still on Brian’s phone.

It could almost be innocent, if it wasn’t for the fact that he knows this is what’s waiting for him when they finally make it home. He wastes long seconds staring at the image of the cane lying on the sheets of their bed before he finally opens the second text.


His legs weakens, his knees buckle. If he hadn’t been caught between them, if they hadn’t been both holding him, Tommy would have been in danger of collapsing.

When Adam’s intention is to give him pain, even deep down in subspace, Tommy’s never taken more than twelve strokes of the cane. It’s a huge jump, as tempting as it is scary.

While he’s still trying to get himself under control, he feels Adam’s breath tickling his neck, Adam’s voice a seductive whisper in his ear, “Just wait until we’re home, pretty. We’ll push your limits until you can take everything, because you’re always so good for us.”

“I don’t deserve it.” The words tumble out of Tommy’s mouth before he can stop them.

Fingers pulls on his hair, a clear warning, before Brian says, “What you deserve is our decision, baby, not yours.”

Brian’s grip on Tommy’s hair loosen only after he nods, acknowledging that it’s true. Then he falls silent again.

“And when you’re so far gone that you can focus on nothing but what we’re giving you,” Adam continues like Tommy didn’t interrupt him, “we’ll use you, both of us at the same time. But you won’t get to come until we decide you can.”

Tommy’s voice fails him. He’s caught under their spell, feeling like a puppet in their hands. This is everything he needs, and yet…

Silence settles over them again until Brian breaks it. “But if you want it? You take whatever crawled up your ass and you stop taking it out on Ashley and the techs. And you talk to us tonight.”

“Do we have a deal?” Adam asks.

Tommy’s sigh seems to travel through his whole body. It still doesn’t feel quite right. “Yes,” he barely manages to hold in the Sir that’s on the tip of his tongue, “we have a deal.”

Closing his eyes again, Tommy waits for the other shoe to drop. The way he’s been acting isn’t something they can let slide. One of the reasons why Tommy feels so safe with them is that they’re willing to hold him responsible for his actions and do what it takes to keep him in line.

He doesn’t have to wait long.

“But,” Brian says, tone low and firm, “you’re supposed talk to us before you get so far lost into you own head. You know that.”

“I know,” Tommy repeats.

Once again, he doesn’t try to make up excuses for himself, no matter how tempting it is. Some of them, like the fact that they didn’t have time, wouldn’t even be a lie. They always get caught up in the madness of the tour, all three of them, and all the responsibilities Adam has to shoulder makes him harder to approach, even if he wishes it wasn’t the case. By the time Tommy realized that all the usual steps they take to keep him on his feet weren’t working, he was already at the point where he needed so much more than what they can give him while they’re away from home. It was easier to pull his protective walls higher and higher until they had no hope of getting to him without completely breaking him down.

So he doesn’t say anything. Maybe it wasn’t intentional, but he still broke the rules all over the place.

“You’re gonna have to apologize and make an effort to be nicer,” Adam says.

Tommy nods but he doesn’t say a thing. It sounds far too easy.

“And,” Adam continues, “You won’t get to come until we’re done with you.”

Frowning, more than a little lost, Tommy says, “You already said that.”

Brian’s dark chuckles seem to cling to Tommy’s skin. “What Adam means is that you don’t get to come, starting now, until we’re back home next week and we’ve dealt with you.”

Tommy snorts. “Like either of you can go without sex for that long.”

This time, it’s Adam who laughs. “Oh, we’ll be fucking you plenty, pretty. But you won’t get to come from it.”

If Tommy’s mumbling sounds a lot like “evil, sadistic bastards,” they don’t call him out on it. It means that Tommy’s slowly coming back to himself, like this moment was enough to ground him a little, and they all know it.

“Keep your word, boy,” Brian simply reminds him before they leave the dressing room.

It’s enough to make Tommy serious again.

“I will,” he promises.


That night, even though they still don’t really have the time, they make time. They take a long shower that ends with Tommy bringing both Adam and Brian off. He’s left with a boner that won’t be taken care of, but he doesn’t even mind. No matter where they are, being on his knees with the heavy weight of a cock in his mouth always feels like home.

Later, much later, when he’s lying in bed between them, caught in their embrace, being held tight and close, Tommy finally finds his words.

He has no idea if they make sense, no idea if they are as messy for Adam and Brian as Tommy’s mind feels. But he doesn’t allow himself to stop, and he tells them.

How lost he’s feeling, like he has no idea how to play anymore. Like even music is running away from him, leaving him alone in this space where he has only his thoughts, going round and round in his head and telling him how he’s going to fuck it all up, to keep him company.

Until it’s all hurting him so badly that, even though he’s the one who’s distancing himself from them, it feels like they’re pushing him away.

When Tommy’s finally done talking, his voice breaks on everything he has no words for.

“Can you hang on until we’re home?” Adam asks.

Tommy’s half formed of course I can dies on his lips when Brian adds, “It isn’t a question of strength. You don’t have to wait. We should have seen this before now.”

If he says he can’t, he knows they’ll take him down tonight, hard and fast, and give him just enough to stop the destructive thoughts threatening to drown him. But he’s aware that it will be, in part, because they think they’ve failed him. And while Tommy won’t deny that they all have responsibilities in how bad things have gotten, he still thinks most of it is on him.

“I can wait,” he says and, because he knows it won’t be enough, “I want to wait.”

“Only if you stop trying to hide from us,” Brian says, his words wrapping around Tommy like a caress.

Tommy bites his lip. It means that, no matter what happens – or doesn’t happen – tonight, he needs to let go of some of his walls and let them in again. It won’t be easy, considering how far in his own head Tommy’s hidden, but he realizes he’s willing to try. He’s aware that the only reason why they’re giving him a choice is because they aren’t sure where he is right now. And this, all three of them trying and failing to find their footing again, is the last thing Tommy needs.

Waiting until they’re home and settled and comfortable is the best solution for all of them. Tommy knows it.

“I will.” Another promise. From the way they look at him, he knows that if he fails this one, they’ll step in, no matter where they are or how many days are left before they’re done touring.

It’s enough to make him breathe easier, to give him the strength he needs to get his act together.


When they’re finally home, the first two or three days are spent trying to get over the jetlag. It always feel like they’re putting their life on hold, but they all need this time to start feeling human again, to shake off the stress and the infernal pace of the tour.

By the third day, Tommy usually makes a move. That’s as long as he’s willing to wait. This time, though, he has no idea if he’s ready.

That afternoon, when he joins Adam and Brian in the backyard, it takes him a second to understand what he’s seeing. They’re sitting under the shade of the gazebo, a clear sign that they have plans to stay outside a little while since Adam’s skin can’t take a lot of full sun before he gets sunburned.

The music playing is one of those soft, instrumental things that is always a surprise to hear in their house, but never a bad one. There is food on the table in front of them, bottles of water and juice in the cooler at their feet. And, between the chairs Adam and Brian have settled into, one of their kneeling pillows.

Tommy releases a breath he had no idea he was holding when he realizes the choice he had such a hard time making has been taken out of his hands. Without allowing himself to think further, he crosses the backyard and drops to his knees between them.

As soon as he’s into position, he can’t help but raise his hand and open his mouth, only to be met by one of Adam’s finger against his lips.

“Not a word, Tommy Joe. Unless you’re planning on safewording out, not today.”

Tommy swallows hard, letting out barely a whisper of, “Yes, Sir,” before he lets his gaze meet the ground.

Today is for him to find his center again. To let go of everything that went wrong in the last couple of weeks. To stop thinking and just be until, finally, he can leave himself into their capable and loving hands.

He’s already hard just thinking about it. The last days have been torture. It’s the biggest case of blue balls he’s ever had, but his ever present, semi-hard dick served as a constant reminder of how much he’d fucked up. The promise of what was waiting for him at home was just the incentive he needed to get his behavior under control and apologize to Ashley and everybody who was just trying to be nice only to have him be an ass in return.

He can hear them talk but he lets their words fly right over his head until their voices are just one more piece in the background of his mind, a soothing whisper of comfort and affection. He focuses only on breathing and on the petting touches and caresses of their hands.

Many minutes later, when a hand in his hair pulls back his head, he has a hard time to open his eyes and look at Brian.

“Let’s move this.” Brian’s words are meant for Adam but they still make Tommy tense.

The hand in his hair turns gentle as they talk over each other, Brian’s “Don’t be scared, baby,” mixing with Adam’s “Nothing happens until you’re ready for it.”

Tommy relaxes minutely, his out of control heart beat going back to normal. It’s only once he can bring himself to nod in acknowledgement that they move this, as Brian said, to the nest of blankets and pillows that Tommy didn’t notice before. They’re still under the shade of the gazebo but closer to the pool.

Tommy curls into their embrace, both of them holding him, surrounding him. His breathing slows until the edges of the world around him get blurry and soft.


Minutes or hours later, Tommy couldn’t say, Adam’s fingers under his chin make him tip his head to look him in the eyes. Tommy goes easily, pliant and willing.

“There,” Adam whispers, low and pleased. “That’s what we were waiting for.”

Brian drops a kiss against his hair, his breath tickling Tommy’s ear. “Can you walk?”

Tommy nods and, because he knows it won’t be enough, he says, “Yes, Sir. I’m good.”

Anticipation has him taking shaky steps, but he still makes it inside with very little help.

It’s only when he’s on his knees in the play room, naked, feeling their eyes on him and waiting for them to say something, anything, that he starts breathing freely again.

There’s the tight grip of a hand on the back of his neck before Brian says, “Give us your words, baby.”

Tommy takes a deep breath. This is what he wants, what he needs, what he’s been anxiously expecting for a full week now. Desire runs down his spine and settles in his balls.

“Duke is my safeword.”

“Duke,” Brian repeats. “We’ll be using color checks as well. Red, yellow, green. If you’re having trouble, you let us know. If we check on you and you fail to answer, we stop. Understood?”

With a nod, Tommy replies, “Yes, Sir. I get it.”

“You use your words if you need them.” The warning is clear in Adam’s voice.

Tommy shudders. “I will. I promise.” While he’s aware that today won’t be easy, he’s not giving them one fucking reason not to go through with this.

Brian pulls on Tommy’s hair, making him turn his head. “Over here.”

Here is a small mattress that, while not as comfortable as the bed, is also better than the cushioned floor. He lies down on his front and lets them position him until he’s stretched full length, wrists and ankles held by cuffs. A folded blanket goes under his hips. He groans in frustration when his dick is trapped underneath his body, in such a way that he has no hope of getting any friction.

“Not until we say so, pretty,” Adam says.

The reminder has Tommy groaning again but it keeps him immobile, holding his breath as he waits. His release is so close, he can taste it. It isn’t even the orgasm that he’s looking forward to. It’s the moment of pure bliss that he can only find when he lets them take him apart and put him back together.

The first slap to his ass takes him by surprise. Without opening his eyes, he knows it’s Brian’s hand, the same way he knows that, later, it will be Adam with the cane. Tommy sighs when Brian rubs the skin he just hit, spreading the warmth before hitting him again. Every time Brian hits him a little harder, a little faster, until it feels likes the heat on Tommy’s ass is seeping through him, right to his dick.

Tommy can’t help but push into Brian’s hand on the next slap. It takes Adam’s hand on the small of his back to hold him against the bed. “Keep still, pretty. You’re taking is so well.”

A particularly hard slap rips a, “Please, Sir,” out of Tommy’s mouth and before he knows it, he’s spiraling down and down and down. With each new slap, the warmth spreads over his skin as endorphins flow through his body. Until the moment when the pain barely registers before it morphs into pleasure, and it’s only Adam’s hand on him that stops Tommy from rocking his hips to try and get the smallest bit of friction.

“There you are.” Adam follows the line of Tommy’s spine with his fingers, making a soothing sound when Tommy arches into his touch. “Riding the pain instead of fighting it. Just what we were waiting for.”

Tommy melts into the mattress when Adam releases him. Seconds later, Brian takes Adam’s place, one hand going to the small of Tommy’s back to remember him to keep still, the other petting his shoulder. “I’ll count them out, baby. All you have to do is feel.” A light brush of fingers on his skin. “And take it like a good boy.”

Instead of the stroke Tommy’s expecting, though, there are many more light touches as Brian says, “Keep your eyes closed if you want but don’t turn your head away from me. I want to keep an eye on you. Understood?”

Tommy opens his eyes but he has a hard time focusing on Brian. “Yes, Sir.”

His eyes close of their own will as Adam reminds him, “Breathe, pretty.”

He has the time for two deep breaths before the air is knocked out of him by the first stroke of the cane. The pain lingers and morphs into something else, something bigger and brighter that Tommy clings to.

Then he hears Brian’s voice, so close to his ear, “One.”

And Tommy has a couple of seconds to catch his breath, just long enough for him to fully anticipate before Adam hits him again, a long line of pain, low on Tommy’s ass.


The next stroke falls to his thighs and makes him cry out. It doesn’t matter how well he’s been warmed up; he can always feel the moment when the cane meets his skin before the pain becomes pleasure. It can be a little easier, sometimes, but it’s never easy.


He falls into the sensations, into the blissful pain that starts from his ass and thighs and seems to overload his whole body. Each hit of the cane brings him down deeper, to the point where he squirms against the grip Brian has on him, trying to push into the next stroke, to take more. More pain, more pleasure, more of everything that only Adam and Brian, together, can give him.

His own pleasure is a distant thought at the back of his mind, his aching dick almost forgotten in favor of the need to be exactly what they’re expecting of him.

By the time they hit “six,” he’s breathing hard through his mouth, almost sobbing but not quite.

“Nine” tears a scream out of him when the cane meets the exact spot between ass and thigh.

The heat spreads through him in a line of fire with every stroke of the cane. At “twelve,” his usual threshold, there’s a pause, Brian’s gentle hands on the skin of his back and Adam’s soft caress on the welts he raised on Tommy’s ass and thighs.

The light, light scrape of Adam’s blunt nails on the welts makes Tommy hiss.

“Give me a color, pretty.”

Tommy has very little control over the words that tumble out of his mouth. All he knows is that the last thing he needs is for them to stop. “Green,” he says, again, and again, a litany that nothing can stop. “Greengreengreen—”

Brian’s finger against his lips shushes him as Adam says, “Six more.”

The next stroke makes him scream again. Fire races through his ass and thighs, the pain almost blinding him in its intensity. It hurts so fucking good that the pain becomes his whole world and he can’t help but lose himself in it.

After “fifteen,” he only realizes he’s been crying when Brian’s thumb tenderly wipes the tears away from his cheeks. “You always suffer so pretty for us, baby. Just a little more now. You can take it.”

The next two strokes come so close together that Tommy can’t pay attention to the numbers. It could go on and on and it wouldn’t even matter. All that exists is this moment and the way pain and pleasure twine together in a heady mix that makes him lose the little grip he still had on reality.

“Last one, pretty.”

The pain that immediately follows almost makes him howl. He has no idea if Adam really hit him that much harder or if it’s just his brain playing tricks on him. It doesn’t matter, though. He feels it through his whole body.

He pushes into the light caress of Adam’s fingers, hissing when it turns into the pressure of blunt nails on the welts on his ass. He’s barely has a second to catch his breath before they push him onto his hands and knees, their grip on him the only thing that keeps him in position.

“We’re not done yet, pretty.” Tommy couldn’t say if it’s a promise or a threat. He doesn’t give a fuck.

“And you’re still hard as a rock.” Once again, Brian wipes the tears away from Tommy’s face. “Such a pretty little pain slut.”

He had mostly forgotten his aching dick until this very moment, when Brian’s words are all it takes to bring him to the edge. Yet he doesn’t come. He’s so far gone that it almost feels like he can’t unless they allow it.

He barely realizes they’re moving before he feels Adam’s slick fingers pushing deep in his ass as Brian makes him tilt his head. Within a second, Tommy’s straining toward Brian’s hard dick.

Brian holds him back by his hair. “You’re always so eager, baby.”

A second later, Adam pulls his fingers out of Tommy’s ass and positions his dick, just as Brian finally gives in and pushes in Tommy’s mouth. Out of habit, Tommy sucks around the cock in his mouth until Brian trails his fingers down the side of Tommy’s jaw. “Don’t try. Just let us take what’s ours.”

Tommy’s mouth goes lax at the thought. Almost at the same time, Adam and Brian thrust inside him, and he loses himself again. As if nothing exists anymore but the stretch and burn of Adam’s cock in his ass, the way Brian always goes just a little bit too far, a little bit too fast, ensuring that Tommy can barely breathe around his dick.

Every push into his ass pulls on the stripes left behind by the cane, making them burn all over again, enough for fresh tears to well up in his eyes.

His world narrow down to the way they are using him for their own pleasure, thrusting inside him, taking and taking and taking until he’s left at his most raw and only wants nothing more but to give all of himself until he’s theirs, again, body and mind.

At the same time, he takes everything they are giving him, every word of love and praise rebuilding him from the ground up, a perfect contrast to the almost brutal way they are using his mouth and ass.

On a particularly hard thrust that pushes Tommy further down on Brian’s dick, Adam stays buried deep in Tommy’s ass. Tommy feels Adam pulse inside him as he comes, his fingers once again finding the welts on Tommy’s ass. He doesn’t move after that, his hands a gentle caress on Tommy’s skin and all of Tommy’s attention is redirected toward Brian, toward the way Brian makes him tip his head farther so he can slide into Tommy’s throat. This time Tommy really can’t breathe but it doesn’t matter. Nothing does beyond the need of being exactly what they are expecting of him.

When Brian finally comes, it’s deep down Tommy’s throat, forcing him to swallow again and again in order not to choke. He pulls out, very, very slowly, at the same time as Adam lets his dick slip from Tommy’s ass.

He’s barely aware of the moment when they release his arms and legs, and has half a second to feel empty before he finds himself sitting on Adam’s lap, his back to Adam’s chest and Adam’s hand on his throat, pulling his head back. He feels Brian press himself against his front and wrap a hand around his dick. “Go ahead, baby.”

It’s the permission Tommy’s been waiting for all along, but somehow it isn’t enough. It takes the rough touch of Brian’s hand around his dick, the way Adam tightens his grip around his throat, almost but not quite taking his breath.

“Next time, pretty, we’ll make you bleed for us.” It’s a limit, it’s always been a limit, yet it’s the idea that they might push him that far, that he might want to let them, that tips him over the edge.

He comes, eyes full of tears, and the world goes blissfully silent.

When he comes back to himself, he’s still in their arms. They haven’t moved except to grab the blanket that he’s now wrapped in. They stay like this, holding him, petting him, telling him again and again how good he is, how gorgeous, how strong.

They wait until he can stand on his own, even if it’s on shaky legs, before moving to the bedroom. There’s water for his parched throat, salve for the welts on his skin. Tomorrow, there will be hot tea to help the croak his voice has been reduced to. There will be more of the love and affection they always have for him.

Until, finally, Tommy finds the strength and confidence in himself that they knew all along was there.