I kiss the hinge of Nolan’s jaw, then Maison’s.
They turn away in unison, two sets of pretty blue eyes fixed on me.
I’ve never hated my own rules more. I would give anything—absolutely fucking anything—to bring these two to my bed and spend hours showing them just how in love with them I am.
I need to buy a fucking breathalyzer.
Or give Maison a rule that he shouldn’t drink anymore, which is what really needs to happen, not that I think he’d let me make it. Not yet, at least.
God, we have a long way to go.
That reminder has me pulling away from them, smiling softly so they know nothing is wrong. This is going to be a slow game. A marathon, not a sprint. I have to remember that.
“Come on. You two go settle on the couch. I’m going to order some food.”
“I can—”
“No,” I say kindly, but firmly. I run a hand through Nolan’s messy blond hair and smile. “But thank you. Get comfortable with Maison. No kneeling, okay? I want both of you with me when I come back to sit, one under each arm.”
Nolan doesn’t look exactly thrilled, but he allows the denial of both getting to cook and kneel. It’s a small price for him to pay. I think he knows why, by the way he looks at Maison and then gives his less-injured hand a comforting squeeze. This relationship will always be about the three of us, but sometimes two of us will need to hold up the third. Tonight is Maison’s night to be held up. To be coddled and loved a little extra. Lord knows he’s fucking earned it.
I pull out my phone, ignoring the chastising texts from Wells and the worried ones from my other dom friends since Wells apparently decided to share my situation with the group. Once it was confirmed that everything was calm and that Nolan was on his way, Wells switched gears. I’m not in the mood for his opinions or advice. I thanked him for helping me. That’s all I have in me tonight. The rest of my energy goes to my boys.
The fastest option on the food delivery app is a small sandwich shop just a few streets away, on the edge of downtown, less than an hour from closing. I hurry to put in our orders and add a generous tip before joining my boys back on the couch.
“What are we going to watch, sir?” Nolan asks, scooting away from Maison to give me the spot in the middle like I previously requested.
I settle down, Nolan immediately curling halfway into my lap, Maison following by leaning heavily against my side, his head tucking between my shoulder and jaw. I close my eyes and let the moment settle in my chest for a few seconds.
Then I grin, knowing they can’t see it, and say as casually as possible, “I was thinking a documentary.”
“Ew,” Nolan grumbles as Maison groans, “Nooo.”
My grin widens. “No? I mean, we could watchWinter Soldier, but Maison warned me that you’d get horny for some reason, darling, and I’d hate to make you go to bed all unfulfilled.”
“Traitor!” Nolan hisses to Maison.
Maison snorts a laugh. I love when he does that. It’s fucking adorable coming from such a gruff, quiet man like him. “Hey, I was just sharing valuable information with our dom to ensure you get the best experience. You should—”
I’m not listening anymore, though.
Our dom.
Our dom.
Our dom.
They’re laughing, Maison poking Nolan in the side, Nolan curling over to avoid him, hair falling over his forehead.
Our dom.
I close my eyes again, willing myself not to cry. Not to ruin this.
They choose a movie that can be watched withoutWinter Soldier, something about the galaxy. I smile at their excitement. I love them so very fucking much.
I’m terrified I’m going to lose them.
That terror fades, though. As they laugh and tease me. As they take turns talking in what they call “Groot” voices. As they cuddle closer to me any time they accidentally move away. As Maison fiddles with the hair at the back of my neck and Nolan draws patterns on my chest. As we pause to get our food and they insist on being naughty and eating on the couch. As Nolan steals Maison’s pickles and Maison responds like it was an act of treason. As they both tease me for how many vegetables I have on mine.