Web-Slinging At The Pool

by andybirch

Summary:

Tom Holland and Jonathan Bailey arrive at a Glasgow aquatic center for a swim certification. Instant chemistry quickly turns passionate, drawing in their charismatic instructor and fellow actor Robert Gilbert. The trio’s mutual attraction explodes into a series of steamy, playful encounters - blurring the lines between fun, friendship, and desire. As flirtation gives way to deep intimacy, the trio not only explore their sexual and emotional limits, but forge a thrilling new relationship far beyond what any expected.

Chapter 1: Locker Room Rendezvous

Summary:

Tom Holland arrives at the Glasgow aquatic center for swim certification and meets Jonathan Bailey. Their flirtatious banter turns explicit, leading to a steamy, intimate mutual encounter in the locker room.

Tom Holland’s footsteps echoed on the tiles of the men’s changing room at an aquatic centre just outside of Glasgow. The 28-year-old British thesp had recently completed his work on Christopher Nolan’s ancient epic “The Odyssey” and had a short break of a few days before he had to get work on Marvel Studios’ “Spider-Man 4” in the Scottish city.

The new film featured a major sequence set around the city's docks. As a result, he only just found out from his flustered agent that the studio’s insurer required certain actors on the film to pass a swimming qualification test if they were to go in the ocean. Tom, with his fit and ripped gymnast body, brown wavy hair, and pale skin, was already an adept swimmer but knew this was a formality he didn’t have any room to argue about.

Thus, on a warm July day - albeit as warm as Scotland can get in the Summer - he had turned up at the facility a few minutes ago to find it surprisingly quiet when his Uber pulled up to the building. Heading inside, he’d spoken with the desk clerk to find out why. It turned out that the facility was closed to the public today for maintenance on one of the small pools. So, only those undergoing swim qualification tests were allowed in the large one. The clerk explained to him that only one other co-star from his film was expected to use the facility that morning.

Tom had walked into the cavernous facility and, after a while, found the changing room. Now, having just stepped inside, he got hit by the warmth and humidity of the place. The room was fairly large, featuring a whole section of showers at the back and multiple areas for changing and lockers. There were several nooks and crannies where one could change with privacy, if desired, and the only light was provided by natural sunlight from high windows. This left some parts of the room quite dark. A faint smell of chlorine and old sweat hung over everything, and every surface was covered in moisture - the air fairly thick with it.

He walked over to a spot on the far side of the room, dropping his duffel with a thud on the low and flat wooden bench between two sets of lockers. The bag was half unzipped already, revealing a dishevelled towel, a pair of blood red Speedos, and Tom’s favourite faded tee inside. Tom glanced around, enjoying this rare moment of quiet - the only real sound being the faint movement of water through the pipes in the tropical jungle-like atmosphere of the tiled labyrinth.

Tom peeled off his shirt, every muscle on his rippling torso mapped out in harsh relief from the angled lighting, which cast shadows along each abdominal muscle. He sat down to take his sneakers off, balled up his socks, and dropped them into the duffel. Then, he took off his jeans, leaving himself only in a set of purple square-cut briefs as he put the clothes in his bag. He went to get his Speedo and towel out, but noticed a body-length mirror attached to the wall on one side.

He checked again, and no one was around. He stuffed his bag into one of the lower lockers and then walked over to the mirror. Standing in front of it, he flexed - half-mocking and half-appreciating his reflection. Standing at around 5’8 and weighing about 145 lbs, he was the definition of lean and compact agility thanks to a life of consistent physical training, especially in dance, which gave him a strong sense of precision and grace in his movements.

Highly athletic, he was well-toned with visible muscle definition, especially around his arms, shoulders, and abs - a youthful face framed by a sharp jawline, high cheekbones, slightly upturned nose and full lips. Prominent dark eyebrows sat atop his expressive, warm and lively brown eyes.

He braced a hand on the wall and stretched his calves, then his hamstrings, bending low and slow. He worked through a practised routine, knuckles grazing tile as he folded himself in half, then arching back in a dramatic gymnastic bridge. He rolled his shoulders, then dropped into a quick set of push-ups—more to burn off some mild nerves than anything else. He shook out his arms and stood, rolling his neck, not noticing the subtle shadow that flickered at the far end of the aisle.

Jonathan Bailey had entered so quietly about ten seconds into Tom’s routine that the “Spider-Man” actor hadn’t noticed. The 37-year-old Brit had a quite similar, albeit a tad larger, tight and fit body, standing at 5’11" and 160 lbs. It was a body similarly honed by years of being a stage performer, but also slightly more rugged from his time as an avid outdoorsman.

He sported a solid sprinkling of chest hair, a long treasure trail, large pecs that sat relatively high on his chest, tanned skin, dark brown wavy hair trimmed short, expressive brown eyes, a dimpled chin and a boyish if slightly more oval face than Tom. He was also more adept at growing a slight beard. Jonathan was aging appropriately, with a few streaks of grey amidst the darker strands, but still had the energy of someone a decade younger. He had heard the noise coming in of Tom working out and quietly snuck to a spot that gave him a good view of Tom without alerting his co-star to his presence.

Jonathan admired this beautiful male figure on display. There was something almost old-fashioned about the way Tom moved: not self-conscious, and delightfully unguarded. He had the kind of tight, lean body with corded muscles that you only build through years of functional movement as opposed to some gym bunny trying for that Hollywood look. The exertion and humidity had already left a light sheen of moisture on Tom’s pale white skin.

Jonathan studied the defined pecs and hairless chest, with small and hard nipples at the centre of large, elliptical areolae in a luscious, rich, dark pink. Both were placed perfectly at the point where the pecs swelled the most, the defined line stretching inward toward an inverted 'Y in the middle of his chest, clearly separating the muscle and framing the kind of clavicle that begged to be gnawed on. The swell of the pecs on their outward side rose into his pits and emphasised the lad's defined upper arms.

Tom was nearly hairless, not a chest hair in sight, under arms barely a whisper, and zero treasure trail. His torso was entirely unblemished aside from four distinct moles, which were all on his left side - two on his pec, two on his upper abs. The stomach showed excellent definition, tight and toned, with a neat inward belly button and some clear, albeit shallow, cum gutters.

Moving down, the legs were strong. The back of the calves was surprisingly veiny, suggesting they got a lot of use, much like his forearms, which were covered in similar pronounced veins. He was advised that Tom had been a ballet dancer and done some gymnastics; thus, the leg strength made sense. It could especially be seen in the thighs, which were quite muscular and disproportionately big for his size, especially in the upper portion, leading to what Jonathan could only describe as one of the most incredible asses he had ever seen.

Tom had a firm bubble butt. It was quite round and smooth from what Jonathan could see covered by the briefs. When Tom bent again to touch his toes, the amethyst fabric rode up to reveal a suggestive crescent of ass cheek. Jonathan’s mouth instantly filled with saliva as his mind pictured thirty different scenarios involving him just munching away at what he was sure was an incredibly tight and clean hole. That's not to disparage the front. The briefs bulged slightly at the front, showcasing what looked like a pretty decent-sized uncut cock and an average, if relatively high, set of balls, which Jonathan assumed could be potentially as hairless as the rest of him.

Jonathan then admonished himself. He hated people judging others on their appearance. Yet, here he was ogling like a first-year drama student who was hot for teacher - the fact that his cock was at quarter-mast following the display he’d been watching meant enough was enough - he didn’t want to scare the guy with a raging hard-on… at least not just yet.

As Tom finished a set of torso twists, Jonathan snuck back towards the door and then started making more noise - pretending like he’d just entered. Tom glanced up to see Jonathan walking into the central area of the room, dressed in white shorts and an open white and navy vertically striped linen shirt that looked expensive but well-worn. The fabric hung off him in a way that suggested a disciplined body under a cover of deliberate carelessness: Jonathan managed to look simultaneously put together yet moments from total dishevelment and ready for action.

“Oh, hello. I thought you were Spider-Man, not Mr. Fantastic with all that stretching,” he said, his voice a deep version of a very posh Oxford schoolboy but always with the sense that he’d been up to something naughty.

Tom lowered his arm and stretched. He smiled, “Hello mate”, he said in his slightly more Southern English but still very Londoner accent, walking up to hug him. “Good to see you again”, as he wrapped his arms around the “Bridgerton” star in an affectionate hug. Jonathan returned the embrace with genuine warmth, their arms wrapping around each other's lean frames. For a moment, Tom could feel the difference in their bodies.

The two had first met in the audition gauntlet for the new "Spider-Man," specifically during a chemistry test that had paired Tom, up for his fourth solo web-slinging run, with Jonathan, who was trying out for the film’s secondary villain, Alastair Smythe. Neither remembered the lines they read that day, but both remembered the way the session had gotten off-script, which left the casting director in hysterics. The callback was a formality, and soon after, Tom had Jonathan's number in his phone.

Since then, their relationship had migrated almost entirely to text and DM. A months-long, ever-escalating exchange of memes, late-night chats about the industry, and more jokey innuendo than one of those old “Carry On” films. Jonathan had a real knack for dropping flirty voice notes, sometimes after midnight, and Tom's responses had grown increasingly cheeky - but neither crossed the line with outspoken expressions of their desire.

Despite all their banter, this was the first time they’d seen each other since a brief chat off to the side at one of the awards parties earlier in the year. So, when Jonathan hugged him now, it meant more than hello - it was a moment heavy with every casual touch or comment, every almost-flirt, every time Tom sat in his bed at two in the morning and lazily stroked himself whilst checking Jonathan’s Instagram thirst traps.

One photo of Jonathan doing a handstand in his Speedos by a pool had dragged several copious loads out of him. The memories meant Tom let himself hang in the hug a half-second longer than strictly necessary, then broke away with a sheepish laugh.

“Shit, sorry, I’m a little clammy,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I expected nothing less. It’s always good to show up everywhere at least slightly damp,” Jonathan quipped, his eyes sparkling. He held Tom at arm's length a moment. "You're looking well," Jonathan said, his eyes drifting downward briefly before snapping back to Tom's face. "The Nolan diet has been kind to you."

Tom's cheeks flushed slightly. "Yeah, well... Couldn't exactly show up looking like I'd been living off burgers every day," he said as he patted his abs self-consciously.

Jonathan laughed, a warm, rich sound that echoed off the tiled walls, as he strode forward and dropped his bag on the bench between the two sets of lockers. He then opened one of the upper ones on the opposite side from Tom. “Why so early?” he asked.

“A bit eager,” said Tom. “I figured I’d get a head start on not embarrassing myself.”

“Good for you,” Jonathan replied with a smile. The three-inch-taller man slipped off his flip-flops and tossed them and his phone in his locker. He then slipped off his shirt, revealing an athletic build with high and bulbous pecs. The hair across his chest was dark, and the long trail down from his sternum mischievously pointed to the waistband of his shorts.

His torso reflected his dedication to fitness and performance - well-defined muscles, a lean frame atop incredibly toned legs honed by dance, ballet, rugby and tennis. In many ways, Bailey’s body was a preview of what Tom’s could be - slightly more muscle mass and definition, hairier certainly and with a bit of a tan.

Tom tried not to stare, but the sight was magnetic. He crossed his arms, leaning back against the lockers on his side of the bench and asked: “You’re not going to make me look bad for the judge out there, are you?”

Jonathan stretched his arms above his head, ribcage flaring and hairy armpits on full display, which made Tom mentally moan. “Depends on how much you’re paying me,” Bailey deadpanned, but with a wink. “Besides, I’m an old man. You’ll have me beat after one length.”

“You’re only like eight years older than me.”

“Still old enough to be your ‘daddy’,” Jonathan said, folding his shirt carefully. “It is ‘daddy’, you under-30s say, isn’t it?” he waggled his eyebrows.

Tom gave a broad smile, having fun with the conversation: “It depends on the guy, I suppose… and how much I like him.”

“Well, I won’t send you to your room or spank you…Unless you want me to,” said Jonathan, barely keeping it together as he tucked his shirt into the locker.

Tom snorted a laugh. "Do you often offer to spank strange men in swimming pool locker rooms, Mr. Bailey?"

"Only the pretty ones," Jonathan shot back, hooking his thumbs into his shorts and sliding them down his legs in one smooth motion. He stood in a pair of black briefs that clung to him like a second skin, leaving very little to the imagination. "I'll have you know it works about 60% of the time."

"What happens with the other 40%?" Tom asked, his eyes flickering briefly down Jonathan's body to take in the heavy fall of his mostly soft cock and genuinely impressive overall package, before returning to Jonathan's face with an impish grin.

"They offer to spank me instead," Jonathan replied with a theatrical wink. He struck a pose, one hand on his hip. "I'm very versatile that way."

Tom rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Well, I’m more of a one-trick pony," he chuckled, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "More someone who likes to take things in as much as possible."

Jonathan's eyes widened momentarily, genuine surprise flashing across his features before his composure returned with a delighted grin. "I had no idea you were such a cheeky little minx. Here I thought you were going to be all proper and professional. I didn't think you had it in you," he said, clutching his chest in mock scandal. "Or rather, I suppose you prefer having it in you."

Tom's face flushed crimson. "Fuck off," he said rather abruptly.

That did it. Tom laughed, which set off Jonathan. The pair’s giggle fit ended a few seconds later with Tom asking, “Have you ever done one of these certification swims before?”

“Yep, just did it for the new ‘Jurassic’. You can’t go swimming in parts of remote Thailand without the insurers getting nervous - and a whole lot of immunity shots,” said Jonathan as he folded his shorts and packed them into the locker, his back briefly to Tom.

Tom took the opportunity to adjust his dick a bit more sideways in his briefs, the cock now quarter mast and slowly filling out a bit as he checked out Bailey’s bum in those black briefs. He crossed his arms again, puffing his chest a bit and tried to emphasise his best physical attributes as Jonathan turned around and then went fishing in his bag for something.

“I had to do a major one for ‘In the Heart of the Sea’ years ago. That was a tough one, but it had some fun times”, said Tom.

Jonathan’s rummaging stopped for a second, and he looked at Tom’s face. “Hemsworth in a Speedo?” he said with a raised eyebrow.

Tom laughed and then nodded.

Bailey gave off a brief audible groan of hunger, a noise that reached into Tom’s balls and made them tingle. “Seriously, that man…” Jonathan said, shaking his head, before reaching back again into his bag and pulling out a pair of sky blue Speedos. He put them down, reached for his briefs and pulled them down with no hesitation. Jonathan’s still mostly soft cock dropped out and hung down heavy and thick, a shockingly wine-dark head peaking through the gap in his foreskin - the rest of it pale, veiny, and with a hot trimmed bush. Balls loose, softly furred and full underneath.

Tom’s mouth felt dry. He tried not to stare but failed spectacularly.

Jonathan noticed Tom noticing, even caught a slight twitch in the younger man’s briefs as Tom’s cock gave a quick lurch to the left. He smiled and said, “Eyes up here, Tom.” Jonathan was bemused as Tom’s eyes looked up to his face, went wider on the realisation he’d been spotted, but held Jonathan’s gaze firmly - he’d been caught, but he wasn’t going to play dumb about it.

“Sorry… It’s just - you’re not exactly shy, are you?” said Tom.

“Second year at drama school, I tried a bit of modelling on the side. Stood on a plinth for two hours completely starkers while first years sketched me," said Jonathan, who was making no move to hide his nakedness. Slowly, he picked up his Speedos and began to untie the drawstring knot, leaning back against the locker with his hands occupied.

He paused dramatically. "It was February. Not my most impressive showing.”

"Shrinkage?" Tom asked with a grin, feeling bolder.

"Tragic," Jonathan nodded solemnly. "Though I've been known to rise to occasions since then."

Tom pointedly looked at Jonathan’s cock hanging there heavy and dignified - the kind of thing that belonged in gay porn, the type you would find in an early Sean Cody or Chaosmen video back in the late 2000s/early 2010s. "Seems like you've got nothing to worry about, even if this was the Antarctic,” said Tom.

"Flattery will get you everywhere”, said Jonathan, adding, “though not so much when you're still wearing your pants while giving my cock the once-over."

“That’s fair," Tom conceded with a laugh. He hooked his thumbs into his purple briefs and slid them down in one smooth motion, his now semi-hard dick bouncing slightly as it was freed. "Better?"

"Much," Jonathan purred, making no effort to hide his appreciative glance. Tom hadn’t been the only one getting off on photos and videos of his co-star. The first time Jonathan had watched Tom’s workout scenes in “Uncharted” and then rewatched while furiously wanking, he came hard enough to fly into his open mouth and splash the back of his throat, bypassing his tongue completely.

Jonathan chuckled. "Though I think the official might disqualify us if we swim like this."

Tom's cock twitched visibly under Jonathan's gaze. "Wouldn't be the first time I've been found in a locker room with my bits out”.

Jonathan raised his eyebrows, inviting Tom to continue.

“Had my first blowie in a school changing room after rugby practice”, said Tom.

"No!" Jonathan’s eyes widened, a delighted, scandalised expression crossing his face.

"It’s true”, Tom nodded solemnly before grinning and continuing. "Coach caught Nathan Parkinson with a mouthful, and I'm pressed against the lockers trying not to scream.”

"What happened?" Jonathan asked, his voice hushed with anticipation, his cock visibly thickening as he leaned forward.

"He just stood there for what felt like forever," Tom said, feeling his own erection growing firmer as he recounted the memory. "Nathan froze with my dick still in his mouth. I was so terrified I couldn't even move."

"And?" Jonathan prompted, his eyes darkening with arousal.

"Coach just said, 'Practice ended twenty minutes ago. Lock up when you're done,' and walked out," Tom said with a throaty laugh - both amused and turned on.

"Once Coach left, Nathan didn't even hesitate," Tom continued, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "He just looked up at me and kept going, more enthusiastic than before. Like getting caught made it hotter for him."

Jonathan's cock visibly thickened with each word, blood rushing to fill it until it now stood proudly in all its 8 inches long by 5.5 inches wide glory, the foreskin pulling back to reveal more of the glistening dark purple head.

"I lasted about thirty seconds after that," Tom admitted, staring intently at Jonathan’s dick as it twitched in the air. The pale pink head of Tom's fuckstick was now fully hard - a 7.5-inch pale uncut cock pointing upward against his stomach. "Came so hard I nearly blacked out. Poor Nathan could barely swallow it all,” he said, lowering a hand to give his hard dick a squeeze and flick, the dick slapping against his stomach.

Tom watched as Jonathan reached forward and palmed his own considerable length and girth - stroking his shaft, slowly - almost carelessly. The veins along the shaft were pronounced, pulsing slightly with Jonathan's quickened heartbeat.

Tom looked up to Jonathan’s face, both men smiling and aroused for each other. Tom then looked down to pick up and fold his briefs, turned, and bent over to reach into his lower locker. He slowly pulled out the bag onto the ground and then reached in to find the red Speedos and towel.

He deliberately took his time while he knew his ass was on full display to Jonathan, while his stance held his cheeks just far enough apart to bare his hole, which was puckering and tightening instinctively. Tom had always known his arse was a good one; he’d heard enough commentary about it, but exposing it to Jonathan’s hungry gaze made him even more excited.

Jonathan, for his part, was now shameless in his admiration. He was still standing with his back against the lockers, but had shifted his stance so his hips cocked out toward Tom, the length of his cock jutting at a proud, provocative angle. He was in no rush to hide himself. He traced his palm up and down slowly, openly enjoying the show he’d been given. The movements of his hand were purposeful but unhurried.

Tom straightened with a slow deliberateness, his back still to Jonathan, the red Speedo dangling from his left hand like some exotic fruit. Tom didn’t bother to cover himself, nor did he bother to pretend he wasn’t aware of the spectacle he had been making for his future co-star.

The changing room’s white noise—the whir of distant fans, the faint echo of water gurgling reflecting off tiled corridors—seemed to fade out, replaced by a heavy, velvet silence and the sound of skin on skin as Jonathan continued lazily pulling on himself. At the same time, Tom dropped his right hand to pull on his own now painfully hard dick.

Humidity clung to their skin, rendering every movement slick and a little desperate. “Not going to try it on for me?” Jonathan asked, voice teasing, as if this was all some innocent bit of pre-swim fun.

Tom turned slowly, his cock jutting proudly from his body, the head glistening with a bead of pre-cum that caught the light. He made no attempt to hide his arousal or his appreciation for the sight before him: Jonathan leaning against the lockers, one hand wrapped around his impressive length, the other casually resting at his side.

"I'm not sure…" Tom said, his voice hoarse with desire as he stroked himself languidly, left hand dropping the speedo on the floor as he lay back against the locker on his side, copying Jonathan’s pose before adding, "…if we're going to make that swimming test on time." His eyes travelled down Jonathan's form, lingering on the older man's hand working his impressive shaft with steady and confident strokes. His hand moved to effectively match Jonathan's rhythm as they openly admired each other, taking pleasure in their bodies.

Jonathan's eyes darkened, pupils blown wide as he took in Tom's wanton display - the defined chest rising and falling with quickened breaths, the tight stomach clenching with each stroke of his hand, the thick cock gripped firmly between his fingers.

Tom pumped his cock in a way that let the older man know exactly how much he enjoyed being on display. Tom’s eyes flickered between Jonathan's face and his hand, then lower, to the monster cock in Jonathan's grip, the foreskin gliding back and forth over the slick, dark purple head that looked almost obscene in its fullness. Tom couldn't help it - he licked his lips.

“We've got time", Jonathan said. His eyes never left Tom’s body. He let his free hand rest at the base of his cock, fingers splayed to show off the size and girth of it; he had the air of a man who’d never been shy a day in his life, and was certainly not about to start now.

Tom’s lips curled into a playful half-smile, mischief dancing in his eyes. He stepped forward with a fluid grace, turning on his heel before reclining back down onto the bench, his body relaxed yet inviting. As he stretched languidly, his toned muscles rippled beneath his skin, intentionally showcasing his physique to Jonathan, who remained standing nearby, captivated.

The air between them buzzed with unspoken tension as both of them stroked themselves, their gazes locked and fed by admiration and desire. The air was thick with the smell of sweat, cleaning fluid, and the sweet, faintly metallic tang of pre-cum, a cocktail of pheromones that made Tom’s head swim. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest, the blood roaring in his ears, and knew without a doubt that if Jonathan said the word, he’d kneel right there on the tile and let the man fuck his face until his jaw ached.

But Jonathan didn’t say a word. He just watched, an appreciative spectator. Tom stroked himself with a slow, deliberate rhythm, eyes darting between his dick, Jonathan’s cock and Jonathan’s face. “Do you usually get off before a swim?” Tom asked, his tone trying to be a bit more casual.

Jonathan grinned, wolfish baring of teeth and decided to respond in kind, “Sometimes during, if it’s a long enough session.”

Tom’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re joking.”

“Deadly serious,” Jonathan replied. He closed his palm around his sizeable dark cock head and squeezed, a bead of clear fluid dripping onto his finger, which he licked off rather showily for Tom. “It’s all about stamina. Besides, why waste a good hard-on?”

Tom laughed. “Suppose you’ve got a point.” He squeezed himself at the base, drawing out a short pulse of pre-cum. The more Jonathan watched, the hornier Tom got, and the more Tom put on a show, the bolder Jonathan became in his display. If this were a game of chicken, neither of them seemed keen to swerve.

One of Jonathan’s hands started playing with his nipples, and Tom followed suit.

The tension between them crackled like electricity, dangerous and enticing. Tom pinched his left nipple harder, his back arching slightly off the bench as a soft gasp escaped his lips. The sensation shot straight to his groin, his cock fully engorged and leaking steadily onto his stomach.

"Sensitive tits have we?" Jonathan's voice had dropped a half octave, the rasp of high arousal evident. His hand moved from his chest to his balls, rolling them between his fingers as he continued to stroke himself. The veins along his shaft stood pronounced, pulsing with each heartbeat.

Tom nodded, unable to form words for a moment. "Always have been," he finally managed, circling his nipple with his thumb. "Gets me going faster than almost anything else, especially when someone sucks them… Fuck," Tom breathed, his accent thickening with arousal. "Wasn't exactly how I planned to start my swim test."

Jonathan's laugh was low and rich, vibrating through the space between them. "Best way to warm up, though." Jonathan pushed off from the lockers, his movement fluid and predatory. With two steps, he closed the distance between them, next to the bench, his stroking in line with the laid-back centre of Tom’s chest. "Mind if I get a better view?"

Tom swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing visibly. "Be my guest”.

The air between them was charged, sparking; the only sounds were the steady, muffled squelch of Jonathan’s fist and the wet, sticky slide of Tom’s hand along his shaft. Jonathan stood over Tom, his cock hovering two feet above Tom’s face, and gave himself a few deliberate, showy strokes.

Tom's breathing hitched as he watched Jonathan's thick cock hover less than arm’s length from his face, the musky scent of arousal making his head spin. Pre-cum beaded at Jonathan's slit, threatening to drip, and Tom found himself unconsciously licking his lips.

"Hardly subtle are you?" Tom muttered, his voice barely a thread, thick with want and adrenaline. The older man's cock was magnificent up close - dark, veiny and substantial, the wine-dark head revealed every time the thick foreskin slid back seemed to pulse with each heartbeat.

Jonathan grinned, heat and mischief in his eyes. “Subtlety’s for cowards. Besides, nothing wrong with two mates having a pre-swim morning wank”. Jonathan angled his hips to give Tom an even better view and spread his legs a little wider, bringing his cock closer towards Tom’s reach. Jonathan gripped the base of his cock and squeezed, milking out a glossy bead of pre-cum that swelled at the tip, heavy enough that gravity threatened to let it tumble and splash Tom’s heaving chest or even face.

Jonathan held the pose deliberately, letting the anticipation bend the moment almost to breaking. He savoured the way Tom’s eyes widened, the pupils blown wide with heat. Then, without breaking eye contact, Jonathan swirled his thumb across the slick tip, collecting the viscous drop, and lazily lifted his hand to his mouth. He parted his lips and sucked his thumb clean, tongue curling around it with slow, deliberate showmanship. The wet and satisfied little sound he was emitting resonated in the hush, and Jonathan grinned, letting Tom see the glistening sheen on his lips.

Not content to leave it at that, Jonathan pressed the flat of his palm to his cock and dragged it upward, coaxing more fluid from the head. His movement was exaggerated; he made sure Tom had an unobstructed view as another strand of pre-cum stretched from the crown of his cock to the pad of his thumb, which he again licked off - eyes never leaving Tom’s. For a heartbeat, he considered reaching down to blot the droplet onto Tom’s chest, but the thought of letting Tom follow suit held more appeal; he wanted to see if the younger man would be brave enough to do something truly reckless.

Tom’s fingers glistened as he drew them up the rigid length of his cock, gathering the slick that pearled at his tip and pooling under the sleeve of his foreskin. The sensation was electric, a raw, slippery heat, but more than that, it was the thought of Jonathan’s eyes on him—hungry, unguarded, dark with want—that made Tom’s pulse stutter and his hand linger. He used his thumb to trace a slow, decadent circle around the head, smearing the pre-cum, then dipped his fingertip into the tiny reservoir under the rim.

With exaggerated care, Tom lifted his slicked finger to his chest and drew a glistening line from collarbone to nipple. He teased the areola, painting it in slow, wet spirals, and shuddered as the air of the changing room met the sensitive flesh. When he finally pinched the nipple, coating it in the viscous fluid, a groan ran through him. Jonathan matched the sound, wordless and guttural. Tom licked his lips and twisted his nipple, rolling it between finger and thumb, before rubbing the residue across his pec.

Jonathan watched, mesmerised, the rise and fall of his breath now visibly ragged. “I think that coach had you pegged from the start. You’re a show-off, you know that?” he managed, but the accusation was threaded with delight.

“Only if I’ve got the right audience,” Tom shot back. While Tom’s right hand kept stroking, he used his left arm to prop himself up slightly on the bench, eyes nakedly watching Jonathan’s stroking.

Jonathan reflexively squatted a bit more, his cock now only a foot or so away from Tom’s lips.

Tom could see every detail - veins like ridges on a map, the skin taut and blushing, the slit already glossy with anticipation. Part of him ached to close the distance and take Jonathan in his mouth, but he held firm, teeth biting into his lower lip. The tension was exquisite. “Fuck, you’re hot,” Tom gasped, voice gone hoarse.

Jonathan’s eyes darted between Tom’s hungry face, sweaty torso and aggressive masturbation. Jonathan reached down to fondle his lightly fuzzy balls with his left hand, rolling them between his fingers before easing off while his right kept stroking with a slow, punishing rhythm. “You’re hotter,” he responded.

"Careful," Tom breathed, his voice barely more than a whisper. "Keep saying things like that and I might do something we'll both regret."

"Who says we'd regret it?" Jonathan's response was immediate, his voice laced with arousal. He shifted his stance lower slightly, bringing himself even closer, the head of his cock now mere inches from Tom's parted lips. A fresh bead of pre-cum formed at the tip, trembling with each pulse of his heartbeat.

Tom could feel the heat radiating from Jonathan’s cock. He shifted on the bench, lifting his legs a fraction, spreading them slightly. He let his hand slow, then drop altogether from his shaft, the leaking cock twitching with the anticipation of something wicked. Tom slid his right hand down, first skimming his balls and then lingering at the soft skin just beyond. He watched as the action diverted Jonathan’s attention.

Tom had never done this in public before, with someone else’s gaze burning a hole in him. He traced small circles around his rim, then pressed the tip of his finger in - not enough to breach, just enough to show Jonathan exactly what he was thinking. His cock jerked, and a shudder rippled through his whole body.

Jonathan’s cock, already thick and angry, throbbed visibly. The older man’s lips made an involuntary, animal sort of sound deep in his throat. Jonathan’s right hand was still pumping, but the rhythm faltered, distracted by the spectacle unfolding at Tom’s hips. He didn’t notice the glob of sweet and salty pre-cum gathering at the tip of his cock, didn’t register the slow, syrupy way it slid down the shaft, stretching itself until it finally let go.

Jonathan turned back only to witness it landing with a lewd little splash directly on Tom’s chin. A second beat, then the weight of it rolled down to the corner of Tom’s mouth. Tom grinned up at Jonathan, eyes wild and dark with challenge, and shot his tongue out to hungrily lap up the clear juice. He savoured the taste, then winked as his right hand went back to stroking his cock and lowered his legs.

Then Jonathan, unable to help himself, leaned in even closer, bringing his cock just inches from Tom’s lips, curious to see how far Tom’s bravado would take him.

Jonathan gripped himself at the root, squeezing with a deliberate show of restraint. “You want it?” he asked, voice low and dangerous. He shifted his weight, positioning himself so that if Tom so much as tilted his face one way, he’d be able to take half the substantial length in one go.

He looked up and caught Jonathan’s gaze, two sets of brown eyes, and both of them smouldering. Without breaking eye contact, Tom gave the slightest of nods.

Jonathan brought the head of his cock closer to Tom’s mouth, closing the distance ever so slowly until they softly touched, the pre-cum painting Tom’s lips with arousal. Tom, on impulse, darted his tongue out and licked along the underside, delighting in the salty sweetness. He ever so briefly sucked the head, just enough to make Jonathan shiver.

“Fuck, Tom, you are something else”, Jonathan's ragged voice said.

Tom pulled away, grinning triumphantly. The room was thick with their pheromones, the air laced with man musk. With every upward stroke of Jonathan’s cock, Tom’s gaze grew hungrier; with every downward grind, pre-cum drops splattered across Tom’s cheekbones and chin.

Tom was getting close - he could feel the pressure building, an electric tingle spreading through his thighs and chest. He wanted to come, wanted to paint himself and maybe even Jonathan’s cock with his spunk if he could time it right and then suck it off that meat popsicle until Jonathan’s load flooded his mouth.

Jonathan earnestly worked his cock to match Tom’s wild rhythm, his abs tensing with every pulse. He desired to fuck Tom’s mouth, wanted to shove his dick between those teasing lips or up the young man’s hole and flood them with multiple salty loads, wanted to taste every inch of the younger man’s skin, his hole, and lap up his milk. Unable to keep himself away any longer, he once again put the tip of his cock against Tom’s lips. Tom opened up for him, sucking him in just an inch, swirling his tongue around the head.

Jonathan’s hips instinctively pushed another inch into Tom's eager mouth. The wet heat enveloped him, sending a jolt of pleasure up his spine. Tom's tongue worked expertly, tracing the sensitive ridge beneath the head, dipping into the slit to taste more of Jonathan's essence.

Jonathan hissed, his free hand threading fingers through Tom's hair, not pushing, just anchoring himself in the sensation. With a smile, he said, "You've done this a lot, haven't you?"

Tom hummed an affirmative around the thick shaft, the vibration sending jolts up Jonathan's spine. Tom pulled back, letting the head rest against his bottom lip, enough to say “all three Avengers named Chris”, before diving back down, taking more of Jonathan's length into the wet heat of his mouth.

Jonathan's hips rolled forward instinctively, careful not to push too deeply but slowly starting a rhythm that gained a little traction each time.

Tom savoured the weight on his tongue, the musky taste, the silky-smooth skin of Jonathan's cock pushing insistently but not forcefully back and forth into his mouth. He looked up at Jonathan through his lashes with such naked hunger that Jonathan felt it like a physical blow. At the same time, Tom’s hand never stopped working its own length.

"Thought this was just a friendly morning wank," Jonathan teased, voice husky with desire.

Tom pulled back with a wet pop, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Let’s make it a bit more friendly", he quipped, before suddenly surging forward, taking Jonathan's entire length in one fluid motion. His throat constricted around the head as he swallowed, nose buried in the dark hair at the base of Jonathan's baby maker.

"Holy fuck!" Jonathan gasped, his knees nearly buckling. His hands flew to Tom's hair, gripping the soft waves between his fingers as Tom's nose pressed against his pubic bone. "Jesus Christ, Tom—" he yelled as he fought the urge to thrust hard.

Tom held firm, working his throat muscles deliberately around Jonathan's thickness. His hands left his cock to steady himself as he reached up to grip Jonathan's hips, body slightly twisting at an angle to lie sideways on the bench as he began to bob his head, taking the full length each time.

Jonathan's breath came in ragged gasps as Tom worked him. The younger man's throat felt impossibly tight and hot, muscles contracting rhythmically around his sensitive head. Every time Tom pulled back just enough to breathe, saliva stretched between his lips and Jonathan's cock in glistening strands.

"Keep it up and soon you’ll make me…" Jonathan's thought trailed off as Tom suddenly abandoned his shaft, diving lower to bury his face in the older man's heavy sack. His tongue darted out, dragging wetly across the wrinkled skin before taking one of Jonathan's balls into his mouth with gentle suction. Tom's cheeks hollowed as he worked it, his tongue swirling around the orb as Jonathan’s cock twitched violently in the cool air.

"Fuuuck," Jonathan hissed, his head falling back as Tom released one testicle only to immediately capture the other, giving it the same devoted attention - alternating between gentle suction and broad, flat strokes of his tongue. At the same time, his fingers dug into the hard muscle.

Tom pulled off with a wet gasp, his lips swollen and slick. "No coming yet, want to taste your spunk property," he said breathlessly, stroking Jonathan's spit-slicked length with one hand and massaging the now moist balls with the other.

Jonathan's gaze slid down, suddenly noticing Tom's beautiful yet neglected erection. It lay rigid against his stomach, flushed and leaking, practically begging for attention. With a fluid grace that spoke to years of physical training, Jonathan bent slightly sideways at the waist, maintaining his position above Tom's face while his right hand reached down to wrap around Tom's shaft.

"Can't have you doing all the work," Jonathan murmured, his fingers encircling the hot, silky flesh with perfect pressure. His thumb swept over the weeping slit, gathering the slickness there and spreading it down in one long, deliberate stroke.

Tom's whole body jerked at the contact, a strangled moan escaping his throat. The dual sensation of Jonathan's cock filling his mouth while those strong fingers worked his shaft was overwhelming. His hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more friction.

"God, you're responsive," Jonathan murmured, his voice thick with arousal as he worked Tom's cock with precision. The angle was awkward, but he managed it, his thumb circling the sensitive head with each upstroke while Tom continued to lavish attention on Jonathan’s throbbing erection.

Tom couldn't respond with his mouth full, but his body spoke volumes - the arch of his back, the way his fingers dug into Jonathan's hips, urging him deeper into that wet, hot, and eager mouth.

"You're too fucking good at this," Jonathan gasped, his left hand’s fingers tightening in Tom's hair as another wave of pleasure crashed through him. Tom’s rhythm was maddening, bringing Jonathan close to the edge before backing off enough to keep him suspended in pleasure. "Where'd you learn to suck cock like this?"

Tom pulled off for a second, lips glistening and swollen. "Natural talent… Hemsworth gave me some pointers, too," said Tom, cheekily knowing it would excite Jonathan.

Jonathan's breath caught in his throat as his mind conjured up the most carnal of images. Hemsworth - all six-foot-three of golden Australian muscle towering over a young and eager Tom. Chris's arms were corded with veins, biceps bulging as he guided Tom's head down with alarming gentleness. The big man’s voice with those drawling Aussie vowels saying: "That's it, mate. Take it slow. Let it stretch your jaw." Tom's face was turned upward in devotion, lips stretched wide around the immense girth of Chris's cock, which was even thicker and longer than Jonathan's.

The mental picture shifted. Tom bent over, face pressed into sheets, his pale arse in stark contrast to Chris's tanned bulk looming behind him. Chris spitting blunt and unceremoniously onto Tom's hole, thumbing the saliva in before working his considerable length against the stubborn, puckered entrance. Tom in pleasure and pain, arching as Chris breached him inch by slow, merciless inch. "Good boy," Chris would growl, accent growing thicker with lust as he buried himself to the hilt repeatedly - long dicking the young Brit.

Coming back to reality, Jonathan saw Tom’s mouth open and face flushed with exertion, gazing up at him with a hungry look. Jonathan's cock felt heavier than ever, desperate for release.

"Fuck, you're gonna make me cum," Jonathan growled, his voice thickening as his hips jerked forward, but he held back the tide - willing the scalding seed to stay in his sack for another minute or so. His grip on Tom's shaft tightened, his fingers sliding slickly over the crown, milking every ounce of sensation from the younger man's exposed length. "Where do you want it?"

Tom pulled off Jonathan's cock with a wet pop. His eyes were wild with lust as he stroked Jonathan's spit-slicked shaft with urgent, twisting motions, and his hips bucked desperately into Jonathan's grip as he panted, "All over me - my chest, my face, my tongue. I want it on my skin" His voice was wrecked, hoarse from the throat-fucking.

The words washed over Jonathan, fueling his need, his balls drawing tight against his body with a white-hot surge of pressure. "I love your filthy mouth," he spat, voice shaking. "You close too?"

Tom could only nod, jaw clenched and eyes wide. Tom's cock looked ready to explode, straining up, the pink head now almost fiery red. "So fucking close," he snarled, teeth bared in a grin.

"Where do you want to shoot, mate?" Jonathan asked, his control hanging by a thread. He slowed his hand on Tom's cock, teasing, a thumb dragging lazily across the slit.

Tom let out a desperate sound, chest heaving. "All over that perfect fucking chest of yours," he choked. "Want to see it all over you"

Jonathan groaned as Tom's hand twisted again, pulling his orgasm ever closer. "You got it, babe," he said, voice rough and thick.

Jonathan could feel his last bit of control shatter, hips driving forward as his cock jerked violently in Tom's hand. He barely had time to signal his release before the first thick rope of cum shot from the end of his knob, splattering across Tom's chest, drenching the pecs and nipples in sizzling hot white seed.

Tom's eyes went wide, and he angled his face up to meet the next volley, tongue out, savouring the salty warmth as it struck his mouth and chin with heavy gushes. Tom could shoot big loads, but Jonathan was putting him to shame as he drenched Tom in a half dozen or more strong spurts. It was thick, almost creamy, and hot enough to feel feverish on.

He milked Jonathan through each spasm, coaxing every last drop from the throbbing shaft, then lapped at the spent cock with slow, obscene satisfaction.

Jonathan collapsed backward against the locker door, breath coming in short, hard gasps. He watched transfixed as Tom, flushed and sticky with the residue of Jonathan’s sinful spunk shower, unashamedly worked himself hard to bust his nut. With Jonathan's taste still thick on his lips and tongue, Tom stroked his cock with a savage, practised rhythm.

Jonathan, still a little unsteady on his feet, dropped to his knees - lining up his torso with Tom’s cock. Tom's entire body locked up, muscles rigid. His moan was guttural, a sound that filled the locker room as his orgasm ripped through him. Hot spurts shot splattered across Jonathan’s chest, drenching the chest hair and painting his chest, abs and shoulders in white. Jonathan couldn’t help it; he had to lean down and catch the last few spurts directly from the cock itself, taking the younger man’s dick in his mouth for the first time since this all began. The last of Tom's essence landed hot and thick on his tongue, and it was fucking delicious - a dash of sweetness underneath the salt that was uniquely Tom.

After pulling off, they stared at each other, ragged breathing, and both were glazed in sweat and semen that was cooling in the mist. Tom scooped up a thick strand of his release from the hair between Jonathan’s pecs, licking it slowly from his finger. Jonathan, still catching his breath, grinned wolfishly, saying, “You cheeky little sod,” and swiped his thumb across a streak of his cum on Tom’s chest.

Jonathan brought his cum-coated thumb to Tom's mouth, pressing it gently against those swollen lips. Tom's eyes, dark with lingering pleasure, locked onto Jonathan's as he parted his lips and drew the digit inside, his tongue swirling around the pad, enjoying the musky salt-sweet flavour of the other man with a low moan.

"Fuck, you taste good," Tom whispered, his voice ragged. The heat was back between them, chemical and electric at the same time, the kind of post-coital tension that threatened to blossom into either another round or something more tender.

Jonathan watched, transfixed, as a thick droplet of his cum slid down Tom's neck, catching in the hollow of his throat. He leaned forward, dragging his tongue through the viscous trail, collecting it before capturing Tom's mouth in a searing kiss - hungry and greedy, their tongues wrestling for dominance. Their essences mingled, the tang of their combined seed creating an intoxicating cocktail that had both groaning.

Jonathan eventually broke the kiss, lips trailing down Tom’s neck, chest and collarbone, pausing only to suck another drop of release from Tom’s skin, rolling it on his tongue before swallowing.

"Fuck, that’s hot," Tom said, voice a low, marvelling growl. "Didn’t know you were a swallower."

Jonathan grinned wolfishly, wiping a streak of cum from his own chest and holding it up in challenge. "My favourite hobby", he said as he wolfed it down.

They both laughed, the tension broken, and Tom smacked a gentle palm against Jonathan's pec, leaving a handprint edged in white. "We’re a fucking mess," he said. "They’re gonna smell us from the front desk."

"Let them," Jonathan said. He kissed Tom again, slower this time, a promise rather than a threat, then leaned backward to rest against the lockers, savouring the sticky aftermath and the headrush of release. Tom sprawled across the bench in front of him.

For a moment there, all they did was breathe - coming down from the high.

Eventually, Tom slowly got up from the bench, surveying the scene with a satisfied, slightly wicked smile before turning to Jonathan, who was now standing. They stayed together for a moment, sticky and grinning.

Jonathan looked him up and down, eyes lingering on the lines of Tom's body, the aftermath painted across his pale skin, the faint pink of exertion rising in his cheeks. "Up for another round after our swim?"

"Always", Tom leaned in, bumping Jonathan’s nose with his own. Jonathan laughed, the sound deep and rumbling. He cupped Tom’s chin, tilting his face up for another kiss.

Jonathan broke it off to say, “We probably should jump in the pool to wash this off before our certifier sees us like this”, as he ran a hand down Tom’s slick and defined back.

“Still want to see me in those Speedos, Mr. Bailey?” asked Tom with a smirk.

“Always”, Jonathan responded - mirroring Tom’s sentiment moments before.

Tom stooped to retrieve his Speedo from the damp floor, slipping his feet in and pulling the tight fabric up over his calves and thighs with a practised roll of the hips. The suit was small and indecent, struggling to contain the swollen and still-sensitive bulge of his spent cock.

Jonathan, a little more languid, took his time. He scooped up his swimsuit, shaking off a stray drop of Tom’s juices that had landed on it, before stepping in. Pulling the sky blue Speedo up, he did it slowly, giving Tom a show. His cock, though softened, still plumped the front of the suit considerably, and he smirked as Tom’s gaze lingered, openly appreciative.

Jonathan quietly laughed, the sound echoing off the tiles. “You’re bloody incorrigible.” He ran a hand through his hair and snapped the elastic at his hip, enjoying the tingle as it settled into place.

They left the locker room in tandem, bodies painted with streaks of pleasure and the faint sheen of sweat. Tom nudged Jonathan's side, his hand drifting across the other man's lower back, just above the curve of his glutes. The briefest contact, but enough to send a thrill down both their spines.

They emerged into the pool area. The place was pretty quiet, the water lit from beneath by a blue glow and the distant noise of the certifier discussing something with the clerk. They both looked at each other, smiled, and dived in.

Chapter 2: Teacher Temptation

Summary:

Tom and Jonathan meet their certifier, Robert Gilbert, at the pool. Both are immediately struck by Robert's imposing physique and flirtatious demeanour. As they go through certification exercises, Tom and Jonathan's flirtations with each other and Robert soon get everyone's arousal building.

Tom Holland and Jonathan Bailey hit the water, diving into the caress of the heated pool.  Tom surfaced first, wiped his eyes, and looked around - it was strange to be in this sort of place when it was empty. The gurgling noise of water filtering through the perimeter grates created a gentle rhythm. Tom could feel the vibrations against his skin as the liquid created a warm and weightless feeling around him.

A brief splash to his left broke his reverie. Jonathan had surfaced from his dive near the far end with the confidence of a skilled swimmer, the bastard.  He pushed wet, dark hair back from his temples and smiled at Tom, teeth white and bright as he breaststroked back towards him.

"You're making me wet, Tom," Jonathan said, enjoying the obvious joke.  Tom just rolled his eyes, making Jonathan giggle.  This was supposed to be a professional thing - they were here for a certification - but they had been anything but professional so far.  Still, the fun with Jonathan before and the way nearly everything he said sounded so filthy, made the world feel less heavy. Like, none of this really mattered.

Tom drifted closer to Jonathan, their bodies almost touching in the water. The chlorine couldn't mask the lingering musk of what they'd done in the changing room - or maybe that was just Tom's imagination, his body still humming with the memory.

"That was..." Tom searched for the right words while his mind kept replaying the frantic, fevered scene - Jonathan showing himself off so brazenly, Tom then essentially putting himself on display for the older actor, the shots of Jonathan's tangy cum in hard pulses across his chest and face, his own spunk matting that beautiful patch of Jonathan's chest hair.  Both of them had lost every scrap of hesitation, and it was hot. "…what happened back there was amazing," he finally managed.

Jonathan caught the note of awe in Tom's voice. He grinned, a lazy, satisfied stretch of lips that made his cheekbones sharper, and propelled himself closer with a practised kick.

Tom could see droplets clinging to Jonathan's lashes and his slightly elfin ears, could see the pulse flickering in his throat.

"It was, wasn't it?" Jonathan said, voice rougher now, the posh vowels slightly rougher than usual. He was treading water with next to no effort, a show-off even when floating. Jonathan's thigh brushed Tom's beneath the surface.  "Not exactly what I expected when I rolled out of bed this morning."

"Me neither," said Tom as a nervous energy bubbled through him. "Like, I've thought about it. About you." The confession slipped out before he could stop it.

"Oh, have you now?" Jonathan teased, but there was an edge to it, something hungry and real. "Tell me more, Mr. Holland."

Tom felt heat creep up his neck, the taste of Jonathan's spunk still lingering on his tongue. "Your Instagram.  All those Italian holiday shots. I may have... enjoyed those shots a few times."

Jonathan threw his head back and laughed, the sound echoing off the walls.  His hand found Tom's waist, fingers tracing idle patterns on his skin. "For what it's worth, I've had more than a few thoughts about you too."

"Yeah?" Tom's breath caught. Jonathan's touch was electric, even through the water.  The fingertips drifted lower on Tom's abdomen, just grazing the slick ridge of abdominals above the waistband.

"Yeah." Jonathan's voice dropped to a low rumble. "When they got you down to your undies within the first five minutes of ‘No Way Home'? Just… hot."

Tom's cock stirred in his dark red Speedo, the fabric twitching with interest. "I… I don't think I'm done with you yet," he admitted, eyes locked on Jonathan's mouth. "What we did... I want more."

Jonathan's pupils dilated, his breathing visibly quickening.  "You've got a mouth on you, Tom. In more ways than one," Jonathan said, his hand sliding lower, fingers running along the waistband of Tom's trunks.  He inhaled sharply before saying. "Fuck, you're going to be the death of me… You know this isn't just a one-time thing for me, right? I've been mad about you for months."

Tom's heart stuttered. This wasn't just dirty talk anymore; there was something raw and honest in Jonathan's expression that made his chest tight. "It's not entirely physical for me either," Tom confessed. "I mean, obviously I want to climb you like a tree, but I also want..."

"More," Jonathan finished for him, nodding in a gesture indicating he felt the same.  Tom positively glowed in response.

The admission hung between them in the humid air. Jonathan's fingers were still tracing the edge of Tom's costume, sending little shocks through his nervous system, but now there was tenderness mixed with the heat.

Before Tom could say anything more, the sound of footsteps echoed across the pool deck. Tom and Jonathan sprang apart instantly, putting a short distance between them, both turning toward the sound.

A tall figure emerged from the corridor leading to the facility offices - the man doing their certification, Tom realised, his pulse spiking for entirely different reasons.

37-year-old Robert Gilbert walked towards them with the body confidence of a Greek God - albeit of the darker-skinned and darker-bearded variety. The well-groomed half Black/half Caucasian 6'1 Brit was dressed only in a white t-shirt, whistle, clipboard, and emerald green Speedos that even from this distance were obviously straining to hold their contents.  These were regular fit Speedos and the right size, but the bulge was so blatant and heavy that ‘budgie smuggler' seemed too underwhelming a description.  It looked more like a fucking Macaw down there.  Even Robert's stride seemed calibrated to keep it from swinging too wildly, his quads tensing and separating as he walked.

Robert's thighs were deliciously thick and dusted with black hair; his calves were powerful and flexing with each measured step. Up top, the t-shirt did little to conceal the sculpted, symmetrical bulk beneath - pecs like platters, strong biceps and triceps, veiny and hairy forearms, wide shoulders, likely defined abs underneath.

Robert had transformed from an average-built twenty-something to the epitome of late 30s maleness, filling out his clothing tightly.  A strict workout/diet routine in recent months had thinned him down, keeping his muscle mass but becoming very defined and ripped. He was now very slowly putting weight back on again to reach a more sustainable everyday life level.  Overall, he had a slightly wider and thicker rugby player-style build compared to Tom and Jonathan's lean swimmer builds.

Tom studied the man's features - the round face, pouty lips, high cheekbones, wide nose, dark eyes with seductive dark undereye circles, the warm-olive skin shining amid beautifully groomed short thick black hair and manicured beard. 

"Bloody hell," Jonathan breathed.

Tom gaped. As a teenager, he'd seen Robert as an actor on stage with the RSC and later in British shows like "Killing Eve", "Sinbad" and "Big Boys".  He had, in fact, had a wet dream about him only a few years ago.  What on Earth was this perfect masculine specimen doing here? 

"Good morning, gentlemen," Robert called with a refined London accent that had a very subtle hint of Scouse underneath - ultimately landing somewhere between Tom's rougher London and Jonathan's polished Oxford accents.  He was also a semi-regular stand-up comedian, so he was very quick at reading people, his eyes flicking between the pair and sizing them up in a flash.

 "Hi," was about all that Tom could manage at this moment.

 Jonathan, to his credit and to Tom's thanks, kept his composure. "You must be Mr. Gilbert"

Robert smiled, slowly. "Robert's fine, or Rob", he says with a nod.  Robert crouched by the pool edge, resting on his haunches as the other two swam up to him. The fabric of his trunks, which was already straining, was now outright protesting.

Tom wanted to look, but kept his eyes on Robert's face.

"Johnnie" said Jonathan. He held out a dripping hand, forcing Robert to lean in and firmly shake it.

"Tom," said Tom, unsure if he should attempt the same. He did, and Robert took his hand - large, square, enveloping - and squeezed with the firmness of someone who'd shaken many hands and potentially broken one or two.  The thought of it wrapped around his cock sent Tom's mind aflutter for a moment.

"Good to meet you both," said Robert, releasing him. "Now, are we all comfortable in deep water? No phobias? No previous trauma involving flotation devices?"

Jonathan smirked. "Worst comes to worst, I'll just use him as one", he said as he wrapped his arm around Tom affectionately.

Tom kicked Jonathan under the water.

Robert's eyes twinkled at the playful display. "Not entirely sure that's regulation, but I'll allow it. This test is all about assessing your breath control, swimming prowess, and your ability to follow instructions". He paused deliberately, eyeing both men. "You'll do everything separately, one after the other, unless otherwise stated. Questions?"

Tom sheepishly asks, "Aren't you an actor?"

Robert looked right into his eyes, seemingly happy about being recognised.  "A lot of the time, Tom, is that going to be a problem?"

"No, I was just…." Tom begins to say, but Robert interrupts, finishing the question for him - "wondering why I'm here?".  Tom nods.

"Well, Tom, the truth is I'm doing a favour for the owner here. I have a swim coach qualification, and every now and then, I like to terrify actors in Speedos for sport. Keeps the ego in check."

It took Tom a second to realise he was joking.

Robert continued: "Occasionally, I help out with swimming training with friends, friends' kids, and so on.  I have a break this week, and said owner friend convinced me to look after this place today while I get some writing done for some projects.  You boys are my only real job for the day… at least for now," he responded, looking at Tom in a way that made the Spider-Man star's heart flutter.  "Start at the shallow end, boys", he added, indicating they needed to line up with the wall about fifteen metres away.

Tom and Jonathan moved towards the wall through the water, which was at shoulder height and dropping.  Robert peeled away from them and walked towards a stack of equipment on one side.

Jonathan kept up a steady stream of hushed commentary:  "Did you see the size of his-"

"Yes," Tom cut in, barely managing to keep a straight face, "I think you can see it from space."

Jonathan snorted. "Think he's got a license for that thing?"

Tom nearly lost his footing. He sputtered a laugh as he half-fell, drawing in a mouthful of pool water, and jerked upright, coughing as it shot up his nose. He clapped a hand over his face and turned away, but not before catching the way Robert looked at them over one broad shoulder: at first concerned, then amused.

Robert knelt at a rack of kettlebells, his huge thighs splayed so the green nylon rode up tighter across his large, meaty bum. The white t-shirt had bunched above his hips, exposing a swath of lower back skin and a small patch of dark hair peeking above the waistband.

As Tom caught up to Jonathan, he elbowed him, which earned an ‘oof' followed by a giggle.

Jonathan placed his arm tenderly around Tom, which the younger man found comforting as they reached the shallow end.

The water at this end was only a bit over a metre or so high, hitting Tom's lower chest, whereas on the taller Jonathan, it was at his upper stomach. Tom surmised that on the even taller Robert, it would likely be around his belly button.

Robert rose with a large 12kg kettlebell in one hand.  "Everything alright, boys?" he called, his eyes steady on them.

Jonathan, who was never one to resist a perfect setup, responded instantly: "Nothing, mate. Tom just needs to learn to swallow better."

Tom's glare was half-hearted at best. He couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips. "Sod off," he muttered, then, louder for Robert's benefit, "all good here!"

Jonathan and Tom watched him approach, and this close, Tom was even more aware of the physical differences. He and Jonathan were peak shape theater kids-lean, wiry, muscles honed by training.  Robert was a slightly different species, decidedly more mass to those muscles and rougher manliness about him.

Robert's eyes flickered with amusement as he placed the kettlebell down with a soft thud. "If swallowing's the issue," he said, voice rumbling into a low, dirty timbre, "I find it's best to just relax the throat and let gravity do the work. But of course - " his gaze dropped, deliberately, to the enormous bulge in his swimming costume "-some situations it comes down to a matter of sheer volume. You ever tried drinking from a fire hose, Johnnie?"

Jonathan's jaw slackened, his cheeks going a deep crimson that spread down his neck and across his chest. For once, the ever-ready flirt was completely speechless, blinking rapidly as if he couldn't quite believe what he'd just heard.

Tom burst out laughing, the sound echoing off the water's surface. He couldn't believe the man had just out-filthied Jonathan Bailey, of all people. The look on Jonathan's face was priceless - scandalised, impressed, amused and aroused.   "Fucking hell," Tom wheezed, clutching his stomach. "I think you broke Jonathan."

Robert grinned, baring his wolfish teeth. "Good thing I'm equipped to handle a little mess", he said, playing up the innuendo.  After a deliberate pause, he then claps his hands - all business again.  "Right, first exercise: weight retrieval. You know the drill. 12kg, bring it up, pass to your partner, lower it to the bottom in a controlled manner, bring it up, repeat. First one to fumble loses."

Robert tossed the kettlebell into the pool, watching it sink and hit the shallow bottom. 

"Any tips?" Tom asked.

Robert knelt at the edge. "Don't be afraid to use your legs. Hug the weight tight to your chest, drive upward. It seems easy at first, but it can quickly turn into too much for people."

They took turns. Tom dove first, breaking the surface with a sputter, and then passed it to Jonathan, whose performance was flawless.  After ten back-and-forths, both could feel their arms burning a bit, so Robert called it a tie.

Robert nodded approvingly. "Textbook form, both of you. But next time, less showboating."

Jonathan looked wounded. "It's not showboating, sir, it's… flourish."

"You're not auditioning for Strictly here boys, and I'd hate to have to write ‘flourish' as the official cause of poolside injury."

Tom laughed warmly. He was enjoying Robert's presence, the dry humour balanced with genuine, if merciless, encouragement. A big part of him still wondered what Robert looked like out of the t-shirt - the arms, the chest, the cut of his hips - as the man was writing notes.

Looking down at his feet, Tom said, "The budget for this place mustn't be great; the bottom is kind of filthy."

Never one to miss an opportunity, Jonathan quickly responded: "Indeed you are darling."

Tom deliberately splashed him.

Jonathan continued: "They probably could cut costs in some areas.  The staff clothing budget is obviously far too much."

Robert looked at Jonathan with a raised eyebrow, loudly clicking his pen as he refused to bite at the obvious remark.  "Second exercise you do together", he says, "let's do a basic 100-metre warm-up. Freestyle, no stopping at the wall. Ready?"

Tom nodded. He could do this. Jonathan winked, then shot forward at a punishing clip. Tom followed, feeling the familiar catch and pull of water along his arms.

Robert was already walking along the pool's edge, tracking their progress with unblinking focus.  He'd call out corrections with the odd witticism: "Straighter legs, Jonathan! Tom, rotate more. Breathe every third stroke, not every one.  And try not to hump the water, lads - I can only deal with so many complaints from HR."

Tom watched the bottom of the pool as the water got quite deep quickly, going as far as three metres down by the end as he made his turn.

Tom tried to comply with instructions, but every now and then he caught a flash of Robert's thighs, or worse, the pendulum of his heavy cock in those Speedos.

Tom completed the final strokes, his arms burning with exertion as he touched the wall just seconds after Jonathan. He gulped in air, his chest heaving as he pushed wet hair from his forehead. The water lapped against his flushed skin. Jonathan was breathing hard beside him, water droplets clinging to his light beard, a satisfied grin stretching across his face.

Robert stood above them at the pool's edge, his clipboard clutched in one hand, the other resting on his hip. From his angle, the boys could see up the t-shirt slightly - a glimpse of hairy dark abdominals that looked photoshopped onto the body of a minor deity as the hair disappeared into his bulbous swimwear.

"Well done, both of you," Robert said, his voice echoing in the cavernous space. "Jonathan, you've got excellent form - the best on this swim. Tom, you held up remarkably well against someone both more obvious and with more obvious competitive swimming experience."

Jonathan stuck his tongue out at that remark as Tom's chest swelled with unexpected pride at the compliment. He hadn't realised how much he wanted Robert's approval until he received it.

"Either way, I think that deserves a reward for our winner," Robert continued, his eyes locking with Jonathan's. "What would you like, Mr. Bailey?" 

Jonathan's eyes gleamed with mischief as he considered Robert's question. He ran a wet hand through his hair, making it stand up in spikes, and tilted his head thoughtfully.

"Well, I can think of several rewards I'd enjoy," Jonathan purred, his voice dropping an octave.  He glanced at Tom almost wolfishly. "Maybe our friend Tom here has to complete the next exercise in his birthday suit? "

Tom's cheeks felt hot despite the cool water. His heart hammered in excitement against his ribs.

Robert crouched down, bringing his face closer to theirs, the fabric of his trunks stretching obscenely as he balanced on the balls of his feet. "I'm open to…" he gave Jonathan a look that had the "Wicked" star both excited and a little scared, "a variety of suggestions, Mr. Bailey.  This is still a certification, though, so some professionalism, please."

Jonathan was a bit deflated hearing that.  Then his ears perked up when Robert turned to Tom and said, "Holland.  You up for it?"

Tom's eyes widened. Had he heard correctly? He blinked rapidly, his mouth suddenly dry despite being surrounded by water.

"I-what?" he stammered, his voice cracking slightly.

A slight twitch upwards played at the corners of his mouth as he ushered Tom closer and spoke in a voice only meant for him, "Listen, Tom, you don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with ok. This is just meant to be a bit of fun." His dark eyes held Tom's gaze, serious despite the playful context.

"Whatever you want to do, I'll respect your decision.  Though I think our friend would like it." Robert then, almost shyly looked down and back up before saying, "And I can't say I'd object either" and giving him a wink.

Robert's candid admission sent a jolt of electricity through him.  "Right here?" Tom asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Right here. No one else is here, and under the water is fine. I'm not asking you to backstroke and give us a show… unless you want to, of course". The tone was amused, yes, but Tom could detect the glimmers of something more underneath.

Tom glanced at Jonathan, who, to Tom's acute embarrassment, was already watching him with both undisguised interest and pure self-amusement.  His feet on the floor, arms folded, and dark eyes gleaming - the man was a troublemaker, and Tom kind of adored him for it.

Taking a deep breath, Tom hooked his thumbs into the elastic waist - the soft cling of Lycra peeling from his skin. The water magnified every sensation-the tickle as the suit slid down his thighs, the way his balls bobbed, and his cock immediately floated upwards, unburdened by fabric. 

He balled the suit in his fist beneath the surface and, with a little flourish, flicked the dripping Speedos onto the deck - the trunks landing next to Robert's feet with a wet splat.

"Well done sir," Robert said, and the simple praise hit Tom squarely in the chest. He couldn't help but feel both six years old and six feet tall. Robert made a note on his clipboard, his forearm flexing under the t-shirt. "You're more comfortable in your skin than you let on, Tom."

Jonathan, for his part, gave a slow, appreciative whistle.

Tom beamed, feeling a thrill run through him. The water on his naked body felt liberating, and the other two's approving gaze emboldened him.

"It's actually quite nice," Tom said, giving a little kick to send himself floating backward. "I think I might swim better like this. Gives me a better sense of freedom.  You two should try it - the water feels great against your bits."

Robert's left eyebrow shot up, and he turned to Jonathan, who also seemed as surprised as Robert. Turning back, Robert's obviously amused voice said, "Is that so, Mr. Holland?… and here I thought you were the shy one of the pair."

"Only until I get comfortable," Tom replied, a little surprised by his own boldness.

Jonathan swam closer,  shoulder brushing Tom's. "I think what our friend is trying to say is that he's an exhibitionist in the making. Just needs the right... motivation."

Robert's laugh echoed through the cavernous space, rich and genuine. He placed his clipboard down and crossed his arms, biceps bulging against the white fabric of his t-shirt.

"Motivation," Robert repeated, his voice dropping to a gravelly register as he said. "I think I can provide that."

Robert stretched, absently rubbing his stomach, which caused his white t-shirt to ride up. "Gets warm in here," he murmured, seemingly to himself.

A landscape of dark hair spread across deeply cut abs came into view. His navel was wide, an innie that practically begged to be explored with a tongue. The trail of hair disappeared temptingly into the straining green trunks.

Jonathan made a small, strangled sound beside Tom, who couldn't tear his eyes away from the display. Robert dropped his hand, letting the shirt fall back into place with casual nonchalance.

"Next exercise," he announced, smirking at the pair as he knew exactly the kind of reaction he had gotten. "Breath control. Tom, since you're already... prepared, you'll go first."

Tom nodded. "What do I need to do?"

"Simple. Take a deep breath, submerge completely, and hold it as long as you can. I'll be timing you," he said, looking at the large wall clock above the pool.  "You good to go?"

Tom nodded.

"Good lad.  Ready… go."

Tom took a deep breath and plunged beneath the surface. He sank to the bottom, his knees touching the pool floor as bubbles danced around him. Underwater, everything took on a dreamlike quality. The light from above fractured across the surface, creating shifting patterns that played across his pale skin.

Tom found himself oddly at peace in this silent liquid world, something primal about it.  He watched his own hair float around his face, waving like seaweed in the gentle current. 

A movement to his left caught his attention. Jonathan had waded closer, standing just under two metres away. The man was doing something with his hands underwater - no, with his swimming costume. Tom's eyes widened as he realised Jonathan was deliberately pulling his swimsuit down, just enough to free his thick cock. It floated weightlessly in the water, semi-hard and impressive.

Looking up, Tom could see that Jonathan was staring directly at him with a mischievous smile playing on his lips as the water rippled around his waist. He gave himself a leisurely stroke, knowing full well that Tom could see everything.

Tom felt his own cock twitch in response to the feeling of floating nude and to Jonathan's forwardness.  He stretched himself out a bit, lying back, which he expected would show off more of his body to the men above. 

He glanced up toward the surface. Robert was standing at the edge of the pool, looking down at him. From this depth, the man's heavy package was still impossible to miss. His posture was attentive, focused on Tom with occasional glimpses at Jonathan or the clock.

Their mouths were moving, a conversation happening that Tom couldn't hear beyond distant garbled vibrations, and Jonathan laughing at something Robert said while one hand still casually played with his cock which probably wasn't that visible to Robert but was fully exposed to Tom.

Tom's lungs began to burn. He felt the first real pangs of oxygen deprivation but held on as he witnessed the almost silent pantomime above.  

Robert seemed to be watching with an intensity that made Tom's stomach flip, even underwater. Tom's lungs screamed for air now, his chest tightening painfully. He pushed off from the bottom, breaking the surface with a desperate gasp.

"One minute and twenty-seven seconds," Robert announced. "Impressive.  Full points for nerve."

Tom gulped air, his body bobbing in the water. "Thanks," he managed between breaths. His hair plastered to his forehead, water streaming down his face.

Jonathan swam closer; he had somehow managed to adjust his trunks back into place without Robert noticing - or perhaps Robert had noticed and was choosing not to comment. "Show-off," he murmured, close enough that his breath tickled Tom's ear. 

Robert crouched down at the pool's edge, his thighs spreading wider as he balanced. "Your turn, Jonathan. And since Tom set such a high bar..." He paused, eyes glinting with mischief. "Perhaps you should match his... commitment level."

Jonathan's eyebrows shot up. "You want me to…"

"I believe in fairness," Robert said with mocking solemnity. "Wouldn't want anyone to have an unfair advantage."

Jonathan needed no further encouragement. He peeled his sky-blue Speedo down his legs and tossed it onto the deck next to Tom's red ones. His cock, still half-hard, floated freely in the water.

"Ahhh, you're right, Tom.  This feels great," Jonathan said, spreading his arms wide and standing there, his half-hard cock only slightly obscured by the water.

Tom caught Robert's gaze sweeping appreciatively over Jonathan's exposed body. "Now, same rules. Deep breath, submerge completely."

Jonathan winked at Tom before taking a deep breath and disappearing beneath the surface. Tom watched him sink to the bottom, his body a blur through the rippling water.

Tom turned to Robert, finding the man's eyes already on him. "So," Tom said, "do you always make your subjects strip for these tests?"

Robert's lips quirked. "Of course.  You've not lived until you've seen Dame Judi Dench doing a naked underwater handstand for you," which made Tom laugh.

"Honestly, I always think I'm making a prat of myself in these things. I just hope it looks like confidence from the outside," says Robert, a welcome moment of forthrightness Tom appreciated.

"Well, you're doing just fine, I think", says Tom sincerely.

Robert nods, then gives a soft, "Thanks, mate. That actually means a lot… Oh, hello", said Robert, eyes turning to Jonathan and tone amused.  "Our boy is showing off".

Tom followed Robert's gaze downward through the water. Instead of simply sitting on the bottom, Jonathan was attempting some kind of acrobatics. His legs were floating upward as he tried to balance on his hands.

Robert sniggered, the sound rumbling from his chest. "Can't just do the exercise like a normal person."

Tom watched Jonathan's form through the water, impressed despite himself. The man's core strength was evident as he held the position, his strong legs straight and steady. Even now, Jonathan managed to look graceful.

"How long has he been under?" Tom asked.

Robert glanced at the wall clock. "About thirty seconds. Though I suspect he's burning through oxygen faster with all that showing off… enjoying the view?" Robert observed, his voice carrying a note of amusement.

Tom's cheeks heated. He hadn't realised how obvious his appreciation was. "He's... athletic."

"That's one word for it." Robert's tone was dry, but when Tom glanced up, the man's dark eyes held a warmth that made Tom's pulse quicken.  "My dad was in the Air Force; he would've called Jonathan here an old-fashioned ‘glory hound'."

Jonathan's form wavered, his effort becoming less stable. Air bubbles began streaming from his nose as his lungs demanded oxygen.

"He's going to have to surface," Tom said, watching the increasing desperation in Jonathan's movements.

Soon, Jonathan's legs folded, and he pushed off from the bottom, breaking the surface with a loud gasp. Water streamed from his hair as he gulped air, his chest heaving.

"One minute... eight seconds," Robert announced.

Jonathan floated there, still catching his breath, droplets clinging to his beard and lashes. Tom found himself studying the way the water beaded on Jonathan's shoulders, the rise and fall of his chest as he recovered.

"Not bad," Robert said, making another note on his clipboard. "Tom wins this round.  The gymnastics probably cost you some time."

Jonathan cackled, unrepentant. "Style points, though."

Robert: "This isn't figure skating, Mr. Bailey."

Jonathan pushed wet hair back from his forehead. "What can I say? I got distracted by the scenery down there." His eyes flicked meaningfully toward Tom, who felt heat creep up his neck despite the cool water.

"The next task requires some dives, and I think we'd all get a little too distracted if we got any more of a show from both of you today", said Robert.

Jonathan turned to Tom with mock sadness, "Aww, shame.  You should see us do a ring toss - won't even need a post."

"Jesus", said Tom, who looked at Jonathan with a dash of shock.

Robert's eyebrow raised, and he said, "Let's take a short break before we move on. I need to finish off something in my office. Feel free to relax for about ten minutes.  Not many people get a nude swim in here, so enjoy it and try not to do anything I wouldn't do, lads," he said, adding an impish wink.

Robert turned and walked towards the corridor from which he first emerged.  Tom couldn't help but track the calves flexing and the hypnotic sway of his ass in those costumes. Each step made the fabric stretch and cling to the muscular globes, revealing their perfect roundness.  He had power and grace, like a rugby union player who'd decided to take up ballet.

Once Robert was a few metres away, Jonathan leaned over to Tom and said, "I need to eat that hairy hole".

Tom laughed nervously, eyes still fixed on Robert's retreating form. "Keep your voice down. He'll hear you."

"Good," Jonathan replied, moving closer to Tom in the water. "He's flirting with us, right?  I'm trying to decide if I'd rather have him fuck me while you watch or have me watch while he fucks you."

Tom's cock grew harder in the water. "Fuck, Jonathan. You can't just say shit like that."

"What if I sucked him off while you sat on his face?" the highly aroused Jonathan kept up the vulgarity.

Tom's imagination exploded with the image - Robert's powerful body stretched out on a bench, Jonathan between his legs, struggling to take that enormous length while Tom hovered above, lowering himself onto that bearded face. The mental picture was so vivid he could almost feel Robert's tongue probing him, the scratch of that well-groomed beard against his cleft.

"Fuck," Tom gasped, his cock now fully hard. He felt Jonathan's fingers wrap around his shaft, giving it a firm squeeze.

At the walkway door, Robert suddenly turned his head. "Just so you know," he called out, his voice echoing across the pool, "the acoustics in here are excellent.  I sent the clerk home before I came out, so thankfully no one else heard those… colourful remarks."

His hand moved to the front of his bulging swimwear, which appeared to have swelled slightly, and he gave himself a visible adjustment, which clearly indicated he overheard it all. "While my dick certainly appreciates those imaginative scenarios, you two should try and focus on what we're here to do."

Tom felt his face burn hot with embarrassment, sinking lower into the water.

Jonathan, however, seemed unfazed. "Can't help it, you're the one going on about finishing off," he called back with pure sass. "Maybe wear something less revealing next time?"

Robert's lips curled into a small smile. "Cheeky bastard," he muttered, just loud enough for them to hear before disappearing down the corridor.

For a moment, the pool was quiet as Tom stared at the place where Robert had been.  He was embarrassed, but also aroused - his prick throbbing hotly in his costume. Robert had heard them and had liked it - the idea making Tom lightheaded.

Jonathan noticed and quietly looped his arms around Tom's waist under the water. "Easy mate, you're alright," he whispered, lips brushing Tom's ear. "You know, he could've just told us to shut it, but he went and showed off instead. He wants us as much as we want him."  Jonathan reached down and found Tom's erection, squeezing it enough to make Tom moan.

"He's our certifier, though," Tom responded, the words tight but the argument flimsy.

"And?" Jonathan kissed and nipped at his shoulder. "Where's your sense of adventure?"

Tom shivered, but he didn't pull away. "You're insatiable," he said. He turned into Jonathan's embrace - the heat radiating from the taller man's body even in the cold pool.  Their mostly hard cocks pressed together in a way that was both arousing and comforting.

Jonathan pulls back, softly asking Tom: "Are you okay with all this? We can slow down, you know. I don't want to push you."

The sincerity in Jonathan's eyes caught him off guard. Despite all the flirting, there was genuine concern there.

"Yeah, I'm good with it," Tom said, his voice soft but certain. "Better than good, actually. I just... I don't want to mess this up you know,"

Jonathan's hands slid up Tom's back, tracing the contours of his muscles. "We won't. Rob seems like he's having too much fun to fail us."

Tom leaned into the touch, savoring the press of Jonathan's body against his own. "What do you think he's doing in there?" Tom asked, glancing toward the corridor where Robert had disappeared.

"You know what I think?" he whispered, his breath hot against Tom's ear. "I think our friend Rob is in his office right now jerking that big dick of his, thinking about us."

The image made Tom's dick twitch against Jonathan's. "God, that's hot."

Jonathan's teeth grazed Tom's earlobe. "He's probably got that monster in his hand, stroking it slow, thinking about us here naked."

Tom laughed. "I'm calling bullshit."

Jonathan's fingers traced lazy patterns on Tom's lower back. "Did you see how he adjusted himself? That wasn't just some casual rearrangement. That was a proper, 'I need to make room for this growing situation' adjustment."

Tom laughed softly, the sound echoing off the water's surface.

After a moment, Jonathan got a mischievous glint in his eye. "I should probably go apologise for my behaviour."

"What? No, Jonathan-"

"And maybe get a closer look while I'm at it." Jonathan was already moving toward the pool ladder, his back and butt cheeks gleaming as he moved. "I'll just be a few minutes."

"Johnnie, don't-" But it was too late. Jonathan had already hoisted himself out of the pool, water cascading down his fit body, his mostly hard cock swinging around as he reached down and slipped his blue Speedos back on - the costume doing little to hide the details of his dick.

"Be right back, babe," Jonathan said with a wink, padding across the wet tiles toward the changing room.  Halfway there, he turned back to Tom and with a waggle of his eyebrows said, "If I'm not back in a few minutes, come find me… and bring your hard-on".

Tom treaded water as he watched Jonathan's figure disappear down the corridor. The pool suddenly felt enormous around him, the lapping of water against the tiles amplified in the silence.

Tom kept his eye on the large clock mounted on the far wall, counting the beats - 10 seconds, 20, 30. His cock remained stubbornly hard beneath the surface.

What the hell was Jonathan thinking? Tom knew that look in his eyes - the same gleam he'd seen in the changing room. The man was shameless, one of the hottest things about him, and Tom was desperately curious about what might be happening in Robert's office right now.

His imagination ran wild, his mind no longer in the pool but in an office, picturing a whole scenario play out as if he were there and as if he were watching some vintage porno. Jonathan would arrive at the door, water still glistening on his chest and arms and thighs and push inside without waiting for a reply.

"Sorry to interrupt, mate," Jonathan would say, feigning sheepishness, but his eyes would flick straight to Robert's lap. Robert would look up from the paperwork, pen held loosely between his fingers, but his expression suggested he'd been waiting for this.

Jonathan would let the door click shut behind him. A few bold strides and he'd be at Robert's desk, hips forward so the still-wet trunks clung to his length. Robert's gaze would drop to the outline, then back up to Jonathan's face - the tension rising fast.

Jonathan would smile and say, "About before… I really am sorry, but you gotta admit, you were asking for it." And before Robert could retort, Jonathan would drop to his knees, hands splayed on Robert's thighs. "Let me make it up to you."

Robert would hesitate just a second, then set the pen down, and his hands would slide into Jonathan's hair, guiding him in. Jonathan would grin up at him, all teeth and mischief, and then, with one fluid motion, he'd pull down Robert's trunks. Robert's cock would spring out, huge and heavy, a massive dick that would make Jonathan's eyes go wide with delight.

Jonathan would start slow, licking along the shaft, teasing the tip, dragging out the anticipation until he opened his mouth and swallowed him down, inch by inch and fighting to take every bit of it. Robert's head would tip back, eyes squeezing shut as he let out a guttural groan, one hand guiding the rhythm and the other moving to toy with his own nipple.

Jonathan's throat would stretch with the size of it, spit leaking from the corners of his mouth and onto Robert's thighs. Tom could see Robert's abs flexing, his hips beginning to twitch and roll, unable to resist the urge to thrust deeper into the willing mouth. Jonathan would choke and gag a little, but never pull back - he'd just flatten his tongue, relax his jaw, and take it like he was born for it.

Robert's breath would turn ragged, uttering the kind of filth that would make Jonathan's cock throb.  He'd grip the back of Jonathan's head with both hands and fuck his mouth, hard and deep, until he was right at the edge.

Jonathan would gag, tears springing to his eyes, but he'd never look away, never stop until Robert finally exploded, pumping spurt after spurt of hot cum down Jonathan's throat, the thick, obscene sound of it filling the office.

Jonathan would swallow it all, never spilling a drop of the delicious cream, then wipe his mouth with the back of his hand and look up at Robert with a grin. "See?" he'd say, voice hoarse but proud. "Told you I'd make it up to you."

The vision was so vivid, so overwhelming, that Tom's own cock literally pulsed in the water; a quick pump or two would've caused his release if he desired.

Fuck it.

Tom hauled himself out of the pool, water streaming from his body as his bare feet slapped against the wet tiles.  He considered reaching for his red Speedo, but at this point, his cock was doing the thinking, and he was beyond caring.  He had to know what was happening.

The air felt cool against his heated skin as he padded toward the corridor, dick pointing him forward like a compass and leaving a trail of wet footprints behind him.  He was unsure what lay ahead for him, but he was keen to find out.

Chapter 3: Workplace Indecency

Summary:

Tom follows Jonathan to Robert's office, watching their highly charged encounter through the window. A growing connection blooms between the three men in intensely emotional and physical experiences that forge new bonds. Also plenty of cock sucking and cum swallowing.

The corridor was short, nearly pitch black, and dead-ended with another corridor at the other end, where faint light was coming from. Tom's stomach fluttered with nervous energy as he went down the hallway to the intersection and looked down the longer corridor. The wall for much of one side was entirely frameless glass panels looking into the office, which was softly lit, and had a door on the far end.

The office was modern, relatively minimalist, despite the large size of the room. On the far side, across from Tom, one-way tinted glass panels showed off a darkened version of the pool area to anyone in the office, but anyone in the pool area could only see a mirror. There was a large and sturdy desk in the middle of the room, on one wall a filing cabinet, coffee machine, various storage cupboards and a kitchenette with a mini-fridge and sink.

The parts of the corridor, both on this side and the other side, where the glass was not lit by the windows, were pitch dark. It appeared that anyone inside the office couldn't really see anyone outside looking in unless they were standing right in front of the glass in the corridor.

Hidden by the junction, Tom could clearly see into half the office and see the back of Robert seated behind his desk. The man's torso was in view, albeit obscured by the chair. He appeared to be talking, low murmurs punctuated by a soft laugh or two. It had to be Jonathan, but Tom couldn't see him from this angle. Rather than the lewd scenario Tom had imagined, it seemed like they were simply talking.

Tom shifted, taking a few steps forward to try to get a better view - or at least to be able to hear them clearer, all without revealing himself. As he cautiously stepped into the second corridor, making sure he remained in the unlit section, Robert suddenly stood up from his desk, the chair gliding backward. 

Robert stretched, arms overhead for a moment, before dropping his hands to his hips. He turned to a cupboard and pulled out a large white towel. "You're dripping on my floor," Robert said, voice carrying just enough through the glass to be picked up by Tom's ears. His tone was playfully stern.

Jonathan came into view and, for once, seemed almost bashful. He ran a hand through his wet hair, smiled up through his eyelashes, and took the towel with a thanks.  

Jonathan patted himself dry, the towel soft against his skin. He took his time, aware of Robert's steady gaze following the movement of his hands across his chest, down his abs, around his thighs. The blue Speedo clung to him, still damp and leaving little to the imagination.

"So," Robert said, leaning back against the glass. His arms made the white t-shirt strain against his biceps. "You want to tell me why you're really in my office, Jonathan?"

Jonathan draped the towel around his neck. He looked at Robert, really looked at him – the strength in his stance, the warmth in his eyes despite the professional facade, the way his beard framed those full lips. "I came because I needed to talk to you."

Robert's eyebrow arched, but he didn't interrupt.

"Look, I don't usually do this," Jonathan continued, running a hand through his hair. "I like Tom," he said simply, letting the towel drop to his sides. "A lot, actually. Have for months."

"It's pretty clear you two are into each other" Robert responded.

Jonathan replied, "We haven't exactly been subtle."

Robert chuckled, the sound rich and warm. "No, you certainly have not. If I go into that locker room that I heard all that groaning out of not long ago, I'm guessing it'll reek."

Tom's heart hammered as he got about as close to the windows as he dared. He could hear Jonathan's voice more clearly now.

"We got a bit carried away," Jonathan admitted. "Tom's... well, he's something special."

Robert uncrossed his arms, his hands coming to rest flat on the glass behind him. "That he is, even I can tell that. And you? What are you looking for here, Jonathan?"

Jonathan shifted his weight, his eyes meeting Robert's with an intensity that the air began to slowly charge. "I know I come off like I'm always up for it, but honestly? I haven't done the casual thing in ages. And Tom… he's just… different."

Tom's heart warmed hearing that Jonathan seemed to be as head over heels about him as he was about Jonathan.

"I want something real with Tom. He's not just some fling for me. But..." Jonathan hesitated, running his tongue over his lip, "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't attracted to you too, and I know Tom feels the same way," Jonathan continued. "You should see how he looks at you when you're not paying attention. It's the same look he gives me."

Robert's expression remained neutral, though his chest rose and fell a bit faster.

"Am I reading your signals wrong?" Jonathan asked, taking a half-step closer. "Because it seems like you're just as interested in us as we are in you."

Robert exhaled slowly, his shoulders dropping slightly. "You're not reading anything wrong," he admitted, his voice a low rumble. "I'd have to be dead not to notice you two" He pushed himself away from the window and walked back towards his chair, creating a bit more distance between them. "But I'm supposed to…"

"If this is about keeping a professional distance, you've been dancing around that since you walked out in those," Jonathan interrupted, gesturing toward Robert's obscenely bulging Speedos. "Were all those innuendos just for show?"

Robert ran a hand over his beard, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "No, they weren't. Maybe we can talk about this again after the certification."

"After?" Jonathan's eyebrows shot up. "I've never been particularly good at playing it cool," Jonathan admitted. "I wear my heart on my sleeve… and my cock on my thigh," adding a wicked little smile to that last line.

That caused Robert to laugh, and he turned to Jonathan, the remnants of the laugh dying quickly at the sight before him.

"Look what you do to me right now, Rob", said Jonathan, a hand squeezing the prominent and fully hard bulge straining against his blue Speedos. He stepped closer, closing the gap Robert had created. "My dick can't wait that long. And I don't think you want to either."

Robert's eyes darkened as they lingered on the outline of his erection. "You're making this very difficult," he said, his voice rougher now.

"Good," Jonathan replied, a hint of challenge in his tone. "Difficult can be fun."

Robert sighed. "You're trouble, Bailey. I knew it the moment I saw you."

Without breaking eye contact with Robert, Jonathan hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his sky blue Speedos and quickly pushed them down his hips. The lycra caught briefly on his erection before springing free, his eight-inch uncut and oh so pretty cock bouncing upward against his stomach with an audible slap.

"Guilty" Jonathan said, kicking the swimsuit aside and standing completely naked before a startled Robert. He ran a hand down his chest, through the dark hair between his pecs, and wrapped it around his shaft, giving himself a slow, deliberate stroke - the dark purple head standing in contrast to the pale veiny skin of the shaft. "Just so there's no confusion."

Robert's eyes swept over Jonathan's nakedness, his eyes lingering on the proud cock jutting from between Jonathan's thighs. His expression shifted from surprise to a growing hunger, his pupils dilating visibly as he took in every inch.

Tom watched from the shadows as Robert's emerald Speedos began to tent outward, the already substantial bulge swelling with alarming speed.

"Christ," Robert muttered, his voice dropping to a gravelly rumble. "You don't do anything by half, do you?"

The fabric of Robert's Speedo began to strain obscenely, the outline unmistakable against the thin material. The hardening of his dick was so dramatic that Jonathan's eyes widened, his attention captured by the rapidly expanding mound.

As Jonathan stared, a small drop of clear fluid beaded at his own dick's tip, catching the light. He ran his finger through it, collecting the wetness, then brought it to his mouth - tongue darting out, licking his finger clean.

"See how you get me going?" Jonathan said, his voice husky. "Just standing there, looking at me like that."

Robert closed his eyes and swallowed hard, his breath quickened while his hand moved unconsciously to adjust himself - the fabric of his Speedos stretched to its absolute limit.

"You don't play fair, Jonathan", Robert managed, his voice strained and eyes slowly opening again.

"What's not fair," Jonathan said, his naked body glinting under the office lights, "is that I'm standing here with my cock out while you're still playing dress-up." He gestured at Robert's white t-shirt with mock indignation. "At least give me something to work with here."

Robert's eyes travelled slowly down Jonathan's body while he seemed to be weighing his options, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he considered what to do next.

"Fair point," Robert finally said, voice rough with desire. In one fluid motion, he gripped the hem of his white t-shirt and pulled it over his head, revealing a torso that made both Jonathan and the hidden Tom catch their breath.

Robert's chest was magnificent - massive, round pectorals topped with pebbled and dark nipples, standing out against the light brown skin and surrounded by whirls of dark hair. His arms, shoulders and neck took it to another level. Every sinew, vein, and muscle flared under the skin; the veins corded up his forearms and across the arcs of his biceps and deltoids. His clavicle and Adam's apple clearly defined on his rather long neck.

Every ab and oblique muscle was clear; the ridges weren't a model's airbrushed fantasy but practical, real muscles. A dusting of dark hair covered his entire stomach, thicker around his large navel and vanishing beneath the waistband of his swollen swimsuit.

Tom watched, mesmerised, as Robert folded the shirt and walked to a cabinet against the far wall, putting it on top of what appeared to be his regular clothes. The play of muscles across his back was hypnotic, rugged and strong but not overdeveloped like so many gym bunnies. A patch of hair peaked just above his Speedos at the base of his spine, suggesting a lightly fuzzy bum underneath.

Robert turned back to Jonathan, his body suddenly more sensitive to the world around him - the brightness of the office lights, Jonathan's unwavering gaze, a tight ache behind his own ribcage. He rubbed a wide palm across his face, almost like trying to remove an expression of disbelief that clung stubbornly. His dark eyes suddenly glistened with unexpected moisture, real tears built up from years of complicated feelings about himself, his life choices, and never being able to ever really 'let go'.

"Fuck," Robert whispered, voice already fraying at the edges. He shook his head, but the gesture was unconvincing. "I can't believe I'm contemplating this. " He stared at the blue tiled floor for a long moment, jaw flexing. "I'm supposed to be the responsible one here," he repeated, quieter, his tone carrying a distinct undercurrent, a note of regret that had nothing to do with the present moment and everything to do with repressed desire and things left unsaid.

Robert drew a shaky breath, lips parted. He searched for something to say, but words failed him. He was paralysed by being desired so openly, so shamelessly. It thrilled him, but also scared him.

He looked up, finally, meeting Jonathan's eyes. Water met fire. In that glance, there was the clear admission that he was drowning in restrained desire, deeper issues of anxiety and self-worth, and an almost hopeful delight in being wanted so fiercely.

The rawness in Robert's face immediately stilled Jonathan. The air between them vibrated. Jonathan stepped closer, his own body catching the overhead glare, every muscle standing in stark relief. He cocked his head, searching Robert's features.

The weight of rules and expectations pressed down on the man. "I just..." His voice cracked with the effort of keeping himself together, but the cracks were beautiful; they let the light through.

Robert let out a breath that was half-laugh, half-sob, shoulders finally slumping in surrender. For the first time since Jonathan had walked in, Robert looked truly vulnerable, his large frame literally trembling with the rush of emotions coursing through him.

Jonathan felt empathy cut straight through his haze of attraction like a hot knife through butter. His own nakedness was forgotten as he moved forward - bridging the gap between them. He set his palm on Robert's forearm, which shivered ever so slightly, and yielded instantly to Jonathan's gentle grasp. He let his thumb drift in slow circles over the inner wrist, the intimate gesture calming both their inner turmoils briefly.

Robert's eyes, glistening with unshed tears, darted to the point of contact. Then they turned to Jonathan's face, searching for an inevitable joke - and found none.

"Hey," Jonathan said, his voice deep with genuine kindness and concern. "Just breathe," Jonathan murmured with a low, reassuring presence. He let his thumb drift from the pulse at Robert's wrist up to the broad curve of his shoulder, pressing small, deliberate yet gentle circles into the dense muscle there.

The intimacy of the gesture was almost shocking in its tenderness, Jonathan desperate to soothe the sensory overload screaming through Robert's body language. "No pressure here. We can stop right now if you want. I can put my trunks back on, go back to the pool," he offered, voice laced with concern and sincerity. His thumb continued to linger in tiny, comforting circles against the warm skin - the tension of the room losing its jagged edge.

Robert's eyes drifted shut, lashes dark against the dark circles around them. He seemed to absorb the comfort through his skin, letting it seep into his old wounds. They would never truly heal, but it was a salve nonetheless. The lines of tension around his mouth eased, ever so slightly. He stood perfectly still, except for the measured rise and fall of his chest, the deep breaths he forced himself to take to pull himself together.

Beyond the glass, Tom realised he was holding his breath and made himself let go, the air coming out in a shaky sigh. He'd seen Robert as a kind of fixed point: unassailable, self-reliant, magnetic. Seeing him fracture, even for a second, was like seeing a shooting star in broad daylight. 

Jonathan slid his hand up to the nape of Robert's neck, fingers threading through the slightly sweat-damp base of his skull. The contact was gentle, platonic, yet impossibly intimate.

"You don't have to be the responsible one all the time...," Jonathan said, barely above a whisper. He met Robert's eyes as they reopened, searching for a sign that his words had landed.

Robert's mouth quirked into a crooked, uncertain smile. "I was caught between two quite different cultures growing up, figured out pretty young it was safer and easier to just keep my head down, be self-reliant all the time, you know?" he said.

Jonathan grinned back. "I know the feeling," he said. "But you can let go, even if just for a little while. I'm here, I'll catch you."

A beat passed. Robert's shoulders rose and fell in another deep breath, and the hand not being held by Jonathan's drifted up to cover the one against his shoulder. The warmth of his palm was solid, grounding. He squeezed once, a wordless thank you.

"It's not that I don't want this," he said, voice roughened by effort. "God knows I do." He started to say more, then bit it back, the words sticking somewhere in his throat. "It's just…" He stopped, unable to make the proper language materialise.

Jonathan held Robert's gaze, letting the silence speak the things neither of them could quite say. Then, gently, he stepped forward and closed the gap between them, wrapping his arms around Robert, pulling the larger man into a full-body embrace. 

At first, Robert tensed - his lifetime of reflex and self-control locking everything in place. Jonathan, naked and raw, pressing himself to Robert's bare skin; Robert, all muscle and willpower, trying not to crumble. And then, finally, something deep within him just…. let go. His arms came up, encircling Jonathan's bare back.

They stood body to body, skin to skin, breath mingling in the short space between their faces. Jonathan's cheek grazed the beard of Robert's jaw, the contact sending a jolt down both their spines. He closed his eyes, nestling his face against the warm, slightly salty hollow of Robert's neck, feeling the heat and the pulse against his lips. 

Robert buried his face in Jonathan's shoulder, beard scraping at the sensitive skin, each breath coming out in ragged exhalations. His hands flexed around Jonathan's back, palms spreading over the ridged muscles and tracing the subtle ladder of his spine. The tears that had been held back now gently flowed - a drop or two landing on Jonathan's back.

Tom's breath caught in his throat as he watched the two men hold each other. There was something so unexpectedly beautiful about the sight - Robert's powerful frame yielding, his head dipping slightly to rest against Jonathan's shoulder, Jonathan's hands splayed protectively across the broad expanse of Robert's back. It wasn't sexual, not in this moment. It was a human connection in its purest form. A small tear slipped down Tom's cheek before he could stop it, the moment striking something deep within him.

Jonathan's hand moved up to cradle the back of Robert's head, fingers threading through the short dark hair. They stayed like that for a while, chests rising and falling in unison, the silence of the office broken only by their breathing.

When Jonathan finally drew away, his eyes were bright and wet. He lingered with both hands on either side of Robert's face, fingers cradling the strong jaw and beard as if Robert might shatter back into a thousand emotionally repressed pieces if not held together by gentle force.

He brushed both thumbs along Robert's cheekbones, smearing away the trails left by his tears. Neither man spoke at first, their faces inches apart, breathing in a shared rhythm.

Their bodies still touched, bellies and hard appendages pressed, Jonathan's tight and high chest rising against the larger, rounder shelf of Robert's own. They held each other steady, unembarrassed. Their nakedness, which could've been classified as a weapon of mass erection just minutes ago, now seemed almost beside the point. The pressure of their bodies was an anchor for the ocean of emotions roiling underneath.

With a sort of nervous deliberation, Jonathan's fingers drifted upward, thumbs tracing the lines at the corners of Robert's eyes with reverence. He tilted his own head and, after a pause in which Robert's breath audibly caught, Jonathan leaned in and pressed his lips to Robert's forehead.

The kiss was pure comfort, soft and careful, and loaded with sentiment. Robert's eyes squeezed shut at the contact and embraced Jonathan's warmth and willingness to care for him. This was intimacy in the truest sense, and it took Tom's breath away.

When Jonathan pulled back, their eyes met again, something new flickering between them – understanding, acceptance, and desire rekindling.

"Thank you," Robert whispered, his voice steadier now. 

Jonathan smiled, his hands sliding down to rest on Robert's shoulders.

Robert's hands lowered down to Jonathan's waist. The touch was gentle but deliberate; the hesitancy was vanishing. "I'm not usually like this," he admitted, a tinge of embarrassment colouring his voice.

"I know," Jonathan said softly. His fingers traced the line of Robert's collarbone, following the contours of muscle and bone.

Robert's gaze dropped to Jonathan's lips, lingering there. He leaned forward, his lips capturing Jonathan's in a kiss that started gently but quickly deepened as Jonathan parted his lips, inviting Robert to explore. Their tongues met, sliding against each other in a slow, sensual dance.

Robert tasted surprisingly sweet yet with something distinctly masculine that made Jonathan's knees weak. Robert's thicker beard tickled Jonathan's chin, the friction sending sparks through both their bodies.

Jonathan responded immediately, pressing his body firmer against Robert's, his hands sliding up to cradle the back of Robert's head. The desire that had abated slightly during the emotional exchange now roared back with a vengeance.

"You know," Robert said, pulling away from the kiss - his voice rough but lighter now, "this definitely isn't covered in the certification manual."

Jonathan smiled, "I think we left standard procedure behind when Tom started showing off in his birthday suit." That pulled a laugh from Robert, 

Tom shifted his weight, suddenly acutely aware of his own nakedness in the darkened corridor. He should go back to the pool, give them privacy, but there was something happening here that felt bigger than just physical attraction - something he wanted, no, he needed to be part of.

Robert looked toward the glass, and for a heart-stopping moment, Tom thought he'd been spotted. But Robert's eyes moved past the glass, focusing on nothing in particular.

"Speaking of Tom," Robert said, his voice thoughtful. "Does he know how you feel about this... about me?"

"He's the one who suggested it might be something worth exploring," Jonathan said with a slight smile. "Well, not in so many words. But the way he looks at you, Robert. You should see his face when you're not watching. He wants you just as much as I do."

Jonathan's hand trailed down Robert's chest, fingers threading through the dark hair between his pecs. 

Robert's eyes searched Jonathan's face, his resolve finally seizing control. "This is still insane… but fuck it", he murmured as his hands slid around to cup Jonathan's ass, pulling him closer.

Jonathan felt Robert's massive bulge deliberately push against his own naked erection, the slick green fabric sliding against his shaft in a way that sent electricity up his spine. Even through the fabric of his swimsuit, the heat and hardness of Robert's cock felt magnificent on Jonathan's skin.

Tom's erection throbbed as he witnessed the intimate dance between the two men. The sight of Robert's massive hands on Jonathan's pale ass cheeks, the way their bodies moved together in a slow, grinding rhythm - it was hypnotic. Tom's own hand wrapped around his own rock-hard flesh.

"That's it, babe, don't worry, I got you," Jonathan reassured him, his hands splaying across Robert's broad chest, fingers gripping the meaty tits. "No more holding back," he added, lips brushing hot and trembling over Robert's jawline.

Robert surged forward, mashing their mouths together in a kiss that this time was so urgent it bordered on violence - years of wistfulness and self-discipline combusted in a glorious moment of surrender.

Jonathan pushed himself up onto the balls of his feet to meet the kiss. His naked body folded perfectly against Robert's, skin to skin, rock hard dicks trapped between their bellies and twitching at each pulse of friction.

The heat coming off Robert's body was intense. They kissed like they'd been starved for months, both men groaning into each other's mouths. Jonathan pressed in harder, fucking Robert's mouth with his tongue as if it could make up for lost opportunities.

When they finally parted for air, their breathing was ragged, unsteady, and both men were panting. For a second, neither spoke, just stared at each other and knowing there was no going back now.

Jonathan rested his forehead against Robert's, their breaths mingling in the narrow space between them. "I need to see all of you," Jonathan whispered, his voice raw with desire. "Please."

Robert's eyes darkened even more as he nodded. "Alright," he said, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down Tom's spine as he watched through the glass.

Without breaking eye contact, Robert hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his Speedos and began to push them down. The fabric caught momentarily on his erection before finally releasing it, and both Jonathan's and Tom's eyes widened at the sight.

Robert's cock was a thing of beauty - thick and heavy, dark brown, nearly nine inches and impressively girthy, with prominent veins running along the shaft. The pink-brown head was swollen, already glistening with pre-cum, partly protected by a generous foreskin and a heavy set of furry balls nestled beneath. It hung between his thighs like some magnificent weapon, and Tom felt his mouth water at the sight of it.

Robert stepped out of his discarded swimsuit with fluid grace, standing there to let Jonathan drink in every inch of his body. Tom could see the hunger in Jonathan's face, the way his tongue darted out to wet his lips as he stared at Robert's meaty masterpiece.

"Better than you imagined?" Robert asked, his voice carrying a note of amusement as he wrapped one large hand around the base of his shaft.

He planted his feet, shifted his stance, and began to work his cock in long, measured strokes that dragged the foreskin up and down, the thick shaft swelling and the colourful head peeking out with every pump.

Robert took a step back from Jonathan and hoisted himself onto the desk, the wood briefly creaking. He leaned back on his hands, thighs spread wide. His face changed, soft yet undeniably hungry. Robert's eyes locked with Jonathan's, then deliberately dropped to his own crotch before looking back up through those thick lashes. 

The invitation was unmistakable.

Jonathan's mouth went dry. He stepped forward between Robert's spread legs, dropping to his knees with a soft thud that echoed in the quiet office. His hands slid up Robert's muscular thighs, feeling the coarse hair against his palms, the solid muscle underneath. Ahead of him lay a ‘dark tower' more glorious than anything Stephen King could dream up. The musky scent filled his nostrils. This close, he could see every detail of Robert's magnificent cock - the way it pulsed with each heartbeat, the bead of pre-cum pooling around the slit, the thick veins that mapped the shaft like rivers.

"You're amazing," Jonathan whispered reverently. He reached out with trembling fingers, wrapping them around the base of Robert's shaft. The skin was hot and silky, the girth substantial enough that Jonathan's fingers couldn't quite meet around it.

Robert's sharp intake of breath echoed through the office. "Fuck, Jonathan," he groaned, his head falling back as Jonathan pulled back his foreskin and multiple drops of pre-cum rolled down the shaft. 

"You're so wet," Jonathan gasped, his own cock throbbing at the sight.

"Always have been a heavy leaker," Robert admitted, his voice rough.

Jonathan leaned forward, his tongue darting out to taste the salt-sweet essence.

Robert's whole body shuddered at the contact, his thighs tensing under Jonathan's free hand.

The taste was intoxicating. Jonathan took his time, licking along the shaft, following one prominent vein with the tip of his tongue and exploring every ridge and hollow.

Robert's breathing grew ragged above him, soft curses falling from his lips as Jonathan finally took the head between his lips, Robert's groan was so deep the whole desk vibrated.

The stretch was immediate and intense. Robert was thick enough that Jonathan's jaw ached almost instantly, but he relished the sensation. He worked his mouth lower, taking more of the heavy length, feeling it fill his throat. His eyes watered as he fought his gag reflex, determined to take it all.

"Yes," Robert panted, one hand threading through Jonathan's hair. Not pushing, just anchoring himself as waves of pleasure crashed through him. "So fucking good", he said as his chest rose and fell rapidly, the dark hair beginning to shine as a light sheen of sweat emerged.

Jonathan pulled back with a wet pop, gasping for air as saliva connected his lips to Robert's glistening cock. "You taste incredible," he managed, his voice wrecked. He dove back down immediately, establishing a rhythm that had Robert writhing on the desk, hips jerking upward.

The sounds filling the office were obscene - wet, slurping noises mixed with Robert's increasingly desperate moans. Jonathan's own arousal was reaching a fever pitch; his cock bobbed between his legs as he lost himself in the act of worship.

Outside, Tom stroked himself with desperate urgency. The sight of Jonathan's lips stretched around Robert's massive girth, the way Robert's powerful body trembled with pleasure - it was one of the hottest things Tom had ever seen. He bit his lip to stifle his own moans.

Robert's control began to fracture. His hips lifted more and more off the desk, pushing deeper into Jonathan's willing mouth. Jonathan took it eagerly, relaxing his throat to accommodate the length.

"Fuck, I'm not going to last," Robert warned, his voice rough with need. "You're too good, too fucking perfect."

Jonathan pulled off with a wet pop, his lips swollen and glistening. "I want to taste you," he said, his voice hoarse from the stretching. "All of you."

Robert's eyes rolled back as Jonathan dove back down, taking him to the hilt in one smooth motion. The sight of Jonathan's nose buried in the dark hair at Robert's base made Tom's knees weak. He leaned against the corridor wall for support, his hand working his own length with increasing urgency.

Robert's breathing became ragged, chest heaving as Jonathan worked him with single-minded determination. The office filled with the sounds of wet suction and Robert's increasingly desperate moans.

"That's it," Robert gasped, his voice breaking as his body tensed. "I'm - "

There was a split second in which Robert's entire body seemed to seize, neck tendons standing out in stark relief while a guttural noise clawed its way out of his throat - something between a roar and a sob of desperation. 

Jonathan could feel it rushing up towards him, jerking back instinctively to watch as Robert's piss slit poured forth an impossibly thick initial rope of semen, the spunk jetting almost comically high in a parabolic arc before splattering down across Robert's chest. The second arc was not quite so high, landing on his abs.

Jonathan's own eyes went wide with awe while he guided the pulsating head to his lips again. The next blast filled his mouth with a flavour both familiar and shockingly specific. He worked his tongue along the underside, milking the length for everything it could possibly give. The next few pulses coated the back of his throat. Never once did he flinch, even as Robert convulsed so hard his hips nearly bucked Jonathan off the floor.

Jonathan kept his lips sealed tightly against the spasming head, only a stray milky drop or two escaping onto his chin, watching as rivers of the thick cum slowly dripped down Robert's torso, pooling in the large belly button like some sort of gay Communion offering.

The sharp, animal smell of sweat and spunk filled the office. Robert cursed in a broken register. "Jesus fuck - Jonathan - oh god - ", the noise lost under the wet sounds of suction. His body slumped backwards, hands sliding off the edge of the desk. He was panting, lips parted, eyes unfocused and dazed. 

Outside, Tom felt something primal unspooling inside him. The raw hunger of the scene was so far beyond anything he had expected that it left him gasping.

Tom couldn't take it anymore. The sight of Robert's cock, thick as a bottle, throbbing in Jonathan's mouth, paired with the utter unguarded surrender on Robert's face and the sounds echoing through the corridor - it all crashed over him in a wave of unbearable arousal. His cock throbbed painfully in his grip as he stepped forward from the shadows, moving on instinct.

He walked unsteadily into the lit portion of the corridor, his naked body gleaming with sweat as he pressed a trembling hand against the glass. The cool surface shocked his burning palm, grounding him momentarily as he fought to control his breathing.

Robert, still half-dazed from his powerful orgasm, was the first to notice. His eyes widened, pupils blown with awe as he focused on a naked and highly aroused Tom, all his muscles glistening and tight, furiously masturbating and looking right at him. He reached out with one muscular arm, his lips forming Tom's name in a hoarse whisper that carried through the office.

Jonathan looked up from between Robert's thighs, his lips still glistening with the remnants of Robert's release. His expression shifted from surprise to delight as he spotted Tom, a wide smile spreading across his face - bits of spunk shining in his beard.

Tom felt their combined gaze like a physical touch. His body tensed, and with a strangled cry, Tom's orgasm ripped through him. His cock jerked violently in his hand as thick ropes of cum shot across the glass partition with loud splashes, painting the transparent surface with streaks of pearly white. The force of it nearly buckled his knees, sending him lurching forward until his forehead pressed against the cool glass.

Wave after wave crashed through him, each pulse seeming to drain more strength from his limbs. When the last aftershock subsided, Tom found himself half-collapsed against the partition, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Without thinking, he dragged his tongue across the surface, tasting his own release - sweet and salty and warm. He took more deliberate swipes of his tongue while maintaining eye contact with the men inside.

Jonathan had moved to stand beside Robert, his hand working his own rigid length with urgency. He motioned toward the door with his head, beckoning Tom to join them.

Tom pushed himself away from the glass on unsteady legs and made his way to the door, pushing into the room. His body felt both leaden and weightless. The strong smell of sex made Tom's spent cock twitch.

Jonathan met him halfway, pulling him into a fierce kiss that tasted of Robert's release. Tom moaned into his mouth, arms wrapping around Jonathan's neck for support as their tongues tangled together, Tom feasting on the musky-flavoured traces of cum he could taste in Jonathan's mouth. They broke apart, both breathless. "Go on, he needs you", Jonathan whispered to him, nodding his head toward Robert.

Tom smiled and turned to the older man lying on the desk, his powerful thighs spread, still huge cock partly (but not entirely) softened against one hairy thigh. His chest and stomach were painted with streaks of his own cum, the sight making Tom's mouth water.

Tom moved toward him and knelt down next to his face, seeing vulnerability and desire mingling in those dark eyes. Tom leaned forward, pressing his lips to Robert's in a gentle kiss that quickly deepened as Robert's large hand came up to cradle the back of his head.

Tom could taste the lingering salt of Robert's release on his lips as they kissed, the flavour mixing with the taste of Robert's mouth that made his head spin. Robert's beard scratched against his chin, rougher than Jonathan's, and Tom found himself pressing closer, craving more of that friction.

Tom could feel the tremor in the strong fingers on his head, the aftershocks still rippling through the older man's body. When they finally broke apart, Tom's breath came in short pants as he stared down into those dark eyes, seeing his own desire reflected back at him.

"Tom," Robert whispered, his voice wrecked and rough. "How long were you watching?"

Heat flooded Tom's cheeks, but he didn't look away. "Long enough," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I couldn't... I had to see."

Robert's thumb traced along Tom's jawline, the touch surprisingly gentle for such large hands. "And what did you see?"

Tom's eyes drifted down Robert's body, taking in the streaks of cum painting his chest and abs, the way his thick cock still twitched.

Tom swallowed hard, feeling something shift deep inside him as he looked back into Robert's gaze. His throat tightened as emotions welled up suddenly.

"I saw… you," Tom whispered, placing a hand flat on Robert's chest above his heart. He threaded his fingers through Robert's larger ones, squeezing gently to convey his understanding. The connection between them felt electric, raw and honest in a way that transcended the physical.

Robert's breath hitched, his eyes glistening. A single tear escaped, sliding down his temple and into his dark hair. Tom leaned down without hesitation, pressing his lips to the damp trail, tasting the salt on his tongue.

"It's alright," he murmured against Robert's skin. "You're alright."

Robert's chest rose and fell with a shuddering breath. A free hand cupped Tom's face, thumb brushing across his cheekbone with heartbreaking tenderness.

"I know," Tom said, understanding perfectly what Robert couldn't articulate. "Thank you," Robert whispered, the words rough and raw as the pair once again shared a tender kiss.

Tom then spotted the cooling streaks of white across Robert's chest, his desire reigniting. He leaned down towards some, then turning to ask - "Can I?" his voice rough with want.

Robert nodded, his chest rising and falling with quickened breaths. "Yes," he whispered.

Tom closed the gap, dragging his tongue through a thick streak of cum pooled in the hollow of Robert's collarbone. The taste was stronger than his own - saltier, with an underlying sweetness that was uniquely Robert. He swallowed it down, savouring the flavour before diving back for more.

He worked his way across Robert's torso, lapping up every delectable drop with reverent attention, paying particular attention to slurping up the cum pool in his navel loudly. Tom's tongue traced the contours of muscle, followed the patterns of dark hair, and finally zeroed in on one dusky nipple.

On impulse, Tom closed his lips around the sensitive bud, sucking gently. Robert's reaction was immediate and intense - his back arched off the desk, a low moan tearing from his throat. Encouraged, Tom flicked his tongue across the hardened peak before grazing it lightly with his teeth.

"Fuck, Tom," Robert gasped, his hand tightening in Tom's hair.

Tom smiled against Robert's skin, moving to the other nipple to give it the same devoted attention. He sucked harder this time, feeling Robert's entire body tremble beneath him. The man was hypersensitive; every touch amplified in the aftermath of his orgasm.

Behind them, Jonathan had been watching the two quietly. His breathing grew ragged as he now stroked himself with increasing urgency. "Fuck, you two are so gorgeous together," he panted, his voice tight with approaching release.

Tom glanced over his shoulder to see Jonathan's hand moving in a blur along his shaft, his abs clenching with each stroke. The sight sent a fresh jolt of arousal through Tom's body, his own cock stirring despite having just cum minutes ago.

"Come here," Tom said, reaching out.

Jonathan moved closer, his cock now coming level with Tom and Robert's faces as he continued to stroke. Tom's mouth watered at the sight of Jonathan's flushed cock, the head dark and swollen with need.

Jonathan stepped between him and Robert, Bailey's cock jutting proudly just inches from both their faces. Voice strained with need, he said: "Give me your mouths."

Tom saw the desperate hunger in Jonathan's face, then glanced at Robert, who was pushing himself up on his elbows, dark eyes fixed on Jonathan's swollen length. Without hesitation, Tom leaned forward, his tongue darting out to lick along the underside of Jonathan's shaft just as Robert's mouth closed over the head.

Tom could feel the vibrations of Robert's moan through Jonathan's cock as he worked his tongue along the sensitive ridge, teasing the tasty dick. Jonathan's hips jerked, a strangled cry escaping his lips as two mouths worked him simultaneously.

Tom moved lower, engulfing one of Jonathan's large balls into his mouth while Robert's mouth sought more and more of the shaft above. The taste was intoxicating, and Tom's own exhausted cock twitched a bit with happiness.

"Fuck, yes," Jonathan gasped, his hands reaching up to pinch both his nipples. "Don't stop, please don't stop."

Robert's throat rippled as he swallowed Jonathan's length, taking him deeper with each descent, his fingers digging into the firm hips as he pulled him forward, encouraging Jonathan to thrust.

Tom moved behind him, parting Jonathan's ass to find the lightly haired pucker winking at him. Without a second thought, he buried his face in there, licking and probing the hole with his tongue.

Jonathan's hands tightened in Robert's hair, his hips beginning to move in small, desperate thrusts. "I'm close," he warned, his voice strained. "So fucking close."

Tom's tongue pushed more and more into the tight heat as Jonathan's orgasm approached. At the other end, Robert's movements grew more urgent as he worked the throbbing prick with a single-minded determination.

"Fuck, I can't - " Jonathan's words were a broken moan as his orgasm crashed over him. Tom felt the muscles clench around his tongue, tasting the salt and sweat as Jonathan's body convulsed. Above them, Robert's throat worked as he swallowed every juicy gush of man milk Jonathan gave him, moaning as one dash escaped and drenched his beard.

Tom pulled back slowly, watching as Jonathan sagged against the desk, his chest heaving. The sight of Robert's lips still wrapped around Jonathan's softening cock, the gentle way he cleaned him with his tongue, sent another pulse of need through Tom's body.

When Robert finally released him, Jonathan slumped to the ground. "Christ," he panted, his voice wrecked. "That was..."

"Delicious," Robert finished, still lying there on the desk with his voice rough. His hand rubbed his beard and sucking the traces of cum on his palm. He reached out to pull Tom closer, seeking the taste of Jonathan's hole on the young man's tongue.

A half-dazed Jonathan noticed Tom, still on his knees, as he kissed Robert. He pushed himself up on his elbows, still breathing heavily. "Christ, my legs are jelly," he laughed.

Tom separated from Robert and landed back flat on the floor next to Jonathan before taking the same stance.

Robert sat up slowly, muscles rippling under his skin as he swung his legs over the edge of the desk. "I think we all could use a moment," he said, voice still rough. He slid off the desk and padded across the office to a small cabinet in the corner.

Tom watched him go, unable to tear his eyes away from the magnificent sight of Robert's backside – two large, muscular buns dusted with dark hair that continued down his thick thighs. His mouth went dry as Robert bent slightly to open the cabinet, the muscles flexing enticingly and a dash of pink hiding in the furry crack.

"Enjoying the view?" Jonathan whispered, nudging Tom's shoulder with his own.

"God, yes," Tom admitted, not even trying to pretend he wasn't staring.

Robert glanced over his shoulder, catching them both mid-ogle. A flush crept up his neck as he pulled out some white towels. "I'm standing right here, you know," he said with a smile.

"I hope so," Jonathan replied, completely unrepentant. "You should know that's one of the finest bums I've ever seen. If I weren't so thoroughly spent right now, I'd be over there burying my face in it."

Robert's laugh was deep and genuine as he crossed back to them, handing Tom a towel first. "I've always been a bit self-conscious about it, actually. Too hairy for some people."

Tom took the towel, letting his fingers brush against Robert's. "They're idiots, It's perfect," he said earnestly. "The hair makes it better."

"Absolutely," Jonathan agreed. He had sprawled farther back, showing off his body. "Nothing sexier than a man who looks like a man, and that ass is a proper showstopper. The kind that you put in a Christmas calendar for charity and then no-one actually throws it out because it's such fucking hot wank fuel."

Robert smirked, throwing Jonathan a towel that deliberately landed square on his face to muffle the next quip. He turned toward a small mini-fridge on a counter and pulled out three bottles of water, the muscles in his back rippling with the movement. He tossed them each a bottle.

Tom caught his with one hand, immediately twisting the cap off and taking a long drink. The cold water felt incredible as he downed nearly half the bottle in one go. He then sat up, bending his knees.

Tom watched as Robert settled back onto the desk, his spent cock resting against his thigh as he took modest sips from the bottle and looked down at the pair on the floor below between his desk and the glass wall.

Jonathan, off to Tom's side, had drunk a mouthful or two and was now lying there with his eyes closed, seemingly taking a moment to settle himself. Everyone was naked and relaxed.

"So," Robert said, gesturing toward the cum stain on the glass partition with his water bottle, "I'm going to have to clean that before it dries, or the janitor will have some interesting questions on Monday."

Tom felt heat rush to his face. "Sorry about that," he mumbled, though he wasn't sorry at all.

"Don't be," Robert said, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I don't think I'm ever going to forget that sight."

Jonathan towelled off his own navel where a stray drop of cum had landed. "These glass walls are unusual. Not exactly private, are they?"

"They weren't supposed to be like this," Robert explained, taking another sip of water. "The place did a partial renovation last year. The offices were meant to have one-way glass for privacy. They installed it on the pool side, but they couldn't afford the back access corridor, so they put in regular glass. They're supposed to do some sort of film treatment on the window, but that still hasn't happened."

"Lucky us," Jonathan corrected with a wink.

Tom settled on the floor next to Jonathan, their shoulders touching. The cool blue tiles felt good against his overheated skin. "How often do you get to use this place?" he asked Robert.

"Maybe twice a year, depends on if I'm up here. Like I said, doing a favour for the owner… turns out he did me the favour today." Robert's eyes lingered on them both, something soft and wondering within those pupils.

"Life's full of surprises," Jonathan said, rolling his water bottle across his forehead to cool down. He hesitated for a moment, then added, "Actually, I should confess something. I knew who you were before today."

Robert raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"I saw you on stage in 'Henry V' as the Dauphin. That wig."

A look of surprise crossed Robert's face. "Yeah, that was... God, that feels like a lifetime ago."

"You were incredible," Jonathan continued. "I remember watching from the wings during that scene where you're way too proud about your horse... I learned quite a bit just watching you work."

Robert looked genuinely touched, his eyes softening. "That's... thank you. That means more than you know." He glanced between them, a hint of shyness returning to his expression. "I have to admit, I'm still trying to wrap my head around why two gorgeous, talented men like you would be interested in me."

Tom frowned, sitting up straighter. "Are you serious? Have you seen yourself?"

"It's not just the physical," Jonathan added, his voice sincere. "Though that is magnificent." He sat up too, leaning forward. "It's everything about you – the way you carry yourself, the depth in your eyes. There's something special there."

Robert swallowed hard, looking down at his hands. "I'm sorry about earlier. Getting emotional like that. It's not... I don't normally..."

"Don't," Tom said firmly, reaching out to place a hand on Robert's knee. "Don't apologise for being human."

"Exactly," Jonathan agreed, shifting closer. "If anything, seeing that side of you just made you more attractive."

Robert looked up, his eyes meeting theirs, a mixture of gratitude in his gaze. "You're both too kind."

A comfortable silence fell between them, the only sound their breathing gradually returning to normal and the occasional sip of water. Tom felt a strange peace settle over him, sitting naked on the office floor with these two men.

"So," Jonathan finally said, a mischievous smile playing at his lips, "about that swim certification..."

Robert exaggeratedly yelled, "Fuckin' hell."

That broke any decorum completely, all three of them dissolving into laughter that echoed off the glass walls of the office. As Tom wiped tears of mirth from his eyes, he felt something shift in his chest as the laughter died down, a warm contentment he hadn't expected. The three of them, naked and spent and somehow completely at ease with each other - it felt right in a way that made his throat tight with emotion.

"We should probably..." Robert gestured vaguely toward the pool area, though he made no move to get up from the desk.

"Should we?" Jonathan asked, stretching like a cat. "I'm quite comfortable here, actually."

Tom found himself studying Robert's face, the way the office lighting softened somehow on his features, how his dark eyes brightened when he smiled. The vulnerability from earlier still lingered, just beneath the surface, and Tom wanted to protect it somehow.

"What happens after?" Tom heard himself ask, the words slipping out before he could stop them. Both men turned to look at him, and heat crept up his neck. "I mean, after today."

Robert's expression grew thoughtful. He set his water bottle aside and leaned forward slightly. "I don't know," he admitted. "I've never... this isn't something I do."

"None of us do," Jonathan said softly. "But maybe that's what makes it worth exploring."

Tom felt his heart skip at the word 'exploring.' It suggested something ongoing, something that wouldn't end when they walked out of this building. The office felt like a world unto itself, removed from reality and consequences, and he knew they'd have to leave soon.

Tom's mind suddenly raced with possibilities that stretched beyond this moment. What if the three of them could actually be something? His chest tightened as he pictured lazy Sunday mornings in bed; late-night confessionals; supporting each other through tough times. The intensity of his wanting crashed over him, stealing his breath.

"I..." Tom started, his voice catching. He swallowed hard, Adam's apple bobbing visibly. "I don't want this to be..." The words died in his throat as his eyes began to burn with unexpected tears.

Robert and Jonathan exchanged glances, both noticing the shift in Tom's demeanour. The playfulness had vanished, replaced by something more raw and even afraid.

"Tom?" Jonathan's voice was gentle, his hand coming to rest on Tom's shoulder. "You okay?"

Tom nodded quickly, blinking rapidly. 

"Take your time," Robert said softly, still perched on the edge of the desk. His dark eyes studied Tom with careful attention.

"Yeah, I just..." He stopped again, frustrated by his inability to articulate his emotions. He felt ridiculous suddenly, naked and exposed in more ways than one. His hands twisted in his lap, shoulders hunching slightly. Heat crept up his neck and into his cheeks.

Tom looked up, meeting Robert's gaze directly.

Something in his eyes made Robert's breath catch - a naked fear, the kind of look Robert knew he was showing earlier, but even more magnified on Tom's youthful face. Understanding passed between them without a word. Desire, insecurity, trepidation and need for connection. Without thinking, Robert pushed himself up from the desk in one fluid motion, his powerful body moving with surprising speed. He reached for Tom, strong hands, gentle as they pulled him to his feet.

Tom found himself drawn into Robert's embrace, the larger man's arms encircling him with tenderness. The sensation of the solid wall of Robert's chest and its hair tickling his cheek sent shivers cascading down his spine. He felt small against Robert's frame, protected and desired all at once.

Robert's arm extended outward. Jonathan, who was already jumping to his feet, stepped into their circle - his lean body pressing against Tom's back and sandwiching him between their bodies. The three of them stood locked together, skin to skin.

Tom closed his eyes, trying to still the thoughts and sensations flooding through him. Robert's chest hair was rough against Tom's smooth skin, the texture so different from his own body. Behind him, Jonathan's chest pressed firmly against his shoulder blades, the lighter dusting of hair there creating a different but equally delightful friction.

Their skin was warm, the scent of their combined musk filling Tom's nostrils with each breath. With his ear against Robert's broad chest, Tom could hear the steady thump of the older man's heart, strong and reassuring. Jonathan's breath was warm against his neck, which sent shivers down his spine.

A lump formed in Tom's throat as emotion welled up unexpectedly. Here, sandwiched between these two beautiful men, he felt seen, safe, even... cherished. A murmured hush had fallen over all three of them.

Beneath his cheek, Robert's chest was a landscape of warmth and hair and strength, rising and falling with a gentle, shuddering rhythm. When Robert leaned down and pressed his lips to the top of Tom's head, it was so caring that Tom felt his knees threaten to give way. He let out a shaky exhale, eyes squeezed shut, and burrowed deeper into Robert's embrace, arms tightening around the man's broad waist. 

Jonathan's grip cinched behind him, his hands splayed wide and possessive across Robert's back. "Whatever you're feeling right now, it's ok. We're here, and we're not going anywhere," he said. Tom could sense the reverence beneath those words.

At the same time, Jonathan looked up and caught Robert's attention, with just a look and a slight squeeze of his arms, he made sure the man knew those words were meant for more than just Tom - they were for him as well.

Robert understood and nodded, his arms tightening around Tom in response.

"I… I really needed this," Tom whispered, his voice muffled against Robert's skin.

"I think we all did," Robert murmured, catching Jonathan's eye with a look of gratitude. The vibration of his deep voice rumbled through his chest against Tom's ear.

There was a history in Robert's voice, a richness of experience, love, longing and regret. Tom wondered, not for the first time, what Robert had lost in order to protect the gentle and attentive soul he'd seen emerge in the past few minutes.

Tom felt the scratch of Jonathan's light beard graze his neck, the feeling incredibly comforting.

They remained that way for a long moment, wrapped together, the world outside the office dissolving into nothing. Tom's mind drifted, foggy with pleasure and exhaustion. 

Robert loosened his grip just enough to slip a hand out and tip Tom's chin upwards, guiding him to meet his gaze. Robert's eyes, so dark they were almost black, brimmed with unspoken tenderness.

He traced a thumb along Tom's jaw, gentle as a feather. "You alright?" he asked. The question was simple, but Tom heard the weight of it: Are you safe? Are you happy? Do you want to stay?

Tom couldn't find words, so he just nodded, swallowing hard. 

Robert smiled, almost bashfully. "Good," he said, voice gentle. "Didn't want to let you go, anyway."

Jonathan's arms tightened around both of them. "You two are fucking adorable," he said, the teasing was obvious, but so was the affection. "You're making me go all mushy."

Tom let himself laugh, the sound shaky but real, and he felt lighter as a result. He tilted his head back, catching Jonathan's face.

Bailey's hair was a mess, wildly sticking high and out of his control, and his face was flushed. Jonathan leaned forward, pressing a kiss to Tom's temple, then another to Robert's cheek. He lingered there, breathing in the scent of both men, before letting out a happy sigh.

"Who'd have thought," Jonathan said, gesturing between the three of them with a tilt of his head. "All of us. Here, finding whatever this is in a fucking Glaswegian pool."

Robert laughed, a deep rumble that sent a pleasant shiver through Tom's chest. "You really have gone sentimental, haven't you?"

Jonathan shrugged, unashamed. "I like to think of it more as post-cum clarity," he admitted with a grin, then nipped at Tom's earlobe playfully.

Tom's cheeks burned, both from the affection and the sheer absurdity of the moment, but he didn't pull away. He felt Jonathan's cock, still semi-hard, pressing against the cleft of his ass. Robert's cock, meanwhile, stirred against his belly.

Anticipation was rising, but this time without urgency - the three of them could take as much time as they wanted and enjoy the afterglow.

"What happens now?" Tom asked quietly, his voice nearly lost in the haze. He wasn't sure what answer he wanted. He just knew he didn't want to lose whatever this connection was yet.

Robert answered first, his hand moving to cradle the back of Tom's head. "We do whatever you want to do," he said, his voice gentle but sure. "No rush. No pressure. We can stay like this if you like."

Jonathan's lips grazed Tom's ear, his voice dropping as he offered: "Or we can keep fucking and see who gives out first."

Tom snorted a laugh, turning his head to meet Jonathan's eyes. He found no mockery, just fondness. Their lips met in a soft, unhurried kiss that sent warmth cascading through Tom's body. Tom tasted himself, Robert, and something specifically Jonathan on his tongue - a heady cocktail that made his head spin even as Jonathan's tongue gently teased Tom's mouth open.

When they parted, Tom turned in their arms to face Robert. The older man's dark eyes had softened, his full lips slightly parted in anticipation. Tom reached up, threading his fingers through Robert's short hair, and pulled him down.

Robert's beard tickled Tom's chin as their mouths connected, this kiss deeper and more urgent than the one he'd shared with Jonathan. Robert's tongue explored Tom's mouth with a thoroughness that made his toes curl.

As they separated, Tom was struck by an overwhelming desire to see the two men kiss each other. He shifted slightly, creating space between their bodies.

Robert and Jonathan locked eyes over Tom's shoulder. For a moment, they simply stared at each other, the air between them charged with electricity. Then Jonathan reached up, his pale hand cupping Robert's bearded jaw, and pulled him forward.

Their lips met in a clash of hunger, wet sounds of their tongues sliding together coming forth so loud that it stole Tom's breath. Robert's large hand gripped the back of Jonathan's neck, holding him steady as their lips and tongues danced with each other. As they separated, both turned to Tom.

"Can we just..." Tom swallowed, shyly saying, "Can we stay like this for another minute or two? Just holding each other?"

Both their face softened immediately, gentle hands coming down to envelop him again in a protective circle, guiding Tom to once again rest against Robert's chest. Jonathan pressed against Tom's back, his arms wrapping around both of them, his lips brushing Tom's shoulder in a tender kiss

"Take all the time you need," Robert whispered, his breath warm against Tom's hair. "We're not going anywhere."

"Not a chance," Jonathan agreed, his voice unusually soft.

Tom closed his eyes, letting the warmth of their bodies seep into his bones. For the moment, the world was perfect.

Chapter 4: Power Bottom Line

Summary:

Tom, Jonathan, and Robert engage in an intensely intimate encounter in Robert's office - one marked by passion, exploration, and a deepening emotional bond between the three men.

As seconds turned to minutes, Tom became aware of the energy shifting between them. The contentment was still there, but beneath it, something else was stirring. Robert's chest rose and fell against his cheek with increasing speed. Behind him, Jonathan's breath grew warmer against his neck, lips occasionally brushing his skin with deliberate pressure.

Tom's own body responded instinctively. Heat pooling in his groin as blood rushed south, his cock stirred against Robert's thigh. Against his back, he felt Jonathan's length hardening, pressed into the cleft of his ass with unmistakable interest. Robert's substantial girth was slowly awakening and beginning to swell against his stomach while his large hand swept down Tom's spine, coming to rest at the small of his back, fingertips just grazing the top of his ass.

Tom tilted his head up, meeting Robert's dark eyes. The tenderness was still there, but now mixed with something hungrier, more urgent. Behind him, Jonathan chuckled, his lips brushing the skin on Tom's shoulder as he said, "You're pressed between two naked men who can't keep their hands off you; this was bound to happen."

"Yeah," Tom agreed, his voice coming out rougher than he expected while his cock had now become fully erect between them. There was still so much he wanted to give... and to take.

Robert's lips quirked in a smile. His eyes seemed to be studying Tom's face, searching for something. After a moment, he asked, "What do you want, Tom?"

The question caught Tom off guard. "Me?"

"Yes, you," Robert said, his thumb brushing against Tom's hip. "You were watching us, joining in when the moment felt right. But now I want to know what you want." His voice dropped lower, quieter. "What would make this perfect for you?"

Tom swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. Both men were looking at him, waiting for direction, and the power of it made his head swim.

"I… " Tom started, then paused, suddenly overwhelmed by possibilities. Jonathan's cock pressed insistently against his back, while Robert's heavy length twitched against his abs.

Tom's hand slid down between their bodies, seizing Robert's cock in a firm grip - the flesh was hot and twitching with needy hunger, and Robert let out a borderline feral growl.

"I want this in my mouth," Tom declared, staring directly at Robert with pure, unbridled want. He then turned back to Jonathan, locking eyes as if daring him to flinch. "And I want you inside me."

For a split second, the words hung there in the air between them. Robert's eyes darkened even more, pupils dilating so wide that it turned his gaze nearly black like a shark. Jonathan's lips parted into a slow, wolfish grin, his hands tightening around Tom's waist. The air grew thick with anticipation.

"It's all yours," Robert breathed, his voice rough but steady.

Tom felt the pulse of the man's cock in his hand as he instinctively ground his hips back into Jonathan, who was pressing in behind him, hungry and ready.

Jonathan's lips found Tom's ear. "I love it when you get demanding," he murmured, his teeth catching Tom's earlobe and tugging gently.

Robert separated from them and began moving into position, muscles rippling as he hopped up onto the desk and lay back, resuming the same position he had when Jonathan blew him. His broad chest heaved with anticipation, his defined stomach braced, and cock proudly stood tall from a nest of dark pubes.

Jonathan nudged Tom forward, all but bending him over and guiding him to the edge of the desk.

Tom now found himself face to face with Robert's throbbing cock, the urge to taste it overwhelming.

Jonathan was behind Tom, body pressed up against Tom's back as his hands explored every inch of his torso, kneading and stroking the hard, lean muscles. "Take your time," Jonathan encouraged, "He's a lot to handle."

Tom leaned forward, lips parting to take Robert's cock into his mouth - a sharp intake of breath encouraging him further. He savoured the first taste of its salty heat, tongue dipping under the foreskin and swirling around the head.

Jonathan's hands crept lower, one sliding down to cradle Tom's balls, rolling them gently in his palm. The other hand smoothed down the small of Tom's back, fingers dancing along the sensitive skin just above his ass. Then, with a practised motion, Jonathan tilted Tom's hip up, lining them up so that Tom was sandwiched perfectly between the two men - Robert's cock on his tongue, Jonathan's cock teasing his entrance.

While much of his focus was on trying to cram as much of the meat popsicle in front of him down his throat as he could, Tom began moving his hips - enjoying the sensation around his bumhole.

Jonathan's hands worked on Tom's hips - running his hard dick lengthways along the cleft with deliberate slowness. Each time Tom rocked back, the heat and pressure of Jonathan's tip would nudge and drag against his entrance, leaving his rim tingling with anticipation and frustration.

Tom inhaled the salty musk of Robert's body. Every time Tom hollowed his cheeks and took him deeper, Robert would arch his hips up in response - the cock pulsing and demanding a little bit more from him. Sometimes Tom would swirl his tongue around the ridge of the head, tease the banjo string with his tongue, or lightly pull on the foreskin with his teeth, all the while stroking his hand along the shaft. Throughout, he delighted in the shudders running through the large body above him.

Meanwhile, Jonathan's hands were kneading Tom's glutes and caressing the curve of his lower back while each pass of his cock left his ass crack hotter and wetter, pre-cum and sweat mixing. Every time Jonathan's cockhead bumped his rim, Tom would push back, just a little, just enough to let the glans part him, but not committing to it yet - enjoying the way Jonathan would hiss.

Soon, the inevitable happened. Tom was so focused on swallowing down Robert's cock that he rocked his hips back at a point that Jonathan decided to thrust forward a little harder. The slick crown of Jonathan's cock caught perfectly on Tom's hungry rim, and with a wet, popping sound - and a jolt that sent stars through Tom's vision - the head breached him. The force of it shoved the tip all the way in, and then another inch or two of shaft, stretching Tom wide, burning but perfect.

The sensation was overwhelming. Tom gasped around the shaft in his mouth, eyes flying open, as his body adjusted to the intrusion. He felt his whole core seizing and then relaxing all at once, the burn quickly giving way to a hot, throbby fullness that was better than he remembered. Robert's cock threatened to spill out of his mouth as Tom moaned helplessly, only barely keeping his lips wrapped around the dick.

For Jonathan, the surprise was intense. His breathing turned ragged as he fought the urge to push deeper, to bury himself completely in that incredible warmth. The unplanned penetration had caught him off guard, and now every instinct was screaming at him to thrust, to claim. "Fuck," Jonathan breathed, his voice strained. "Tom, you feel…"

Tom's body spoke for him. He pushed back slowly, deliberately, taking another inch of Jonathan's length. The stretch was exquisite. He could feel every ridge and vein of Jonathan's cock as it slid deeper, his body opening and adjusting to accommodate the intrusion.

Jonathan's hands gripped Tom's hips with bruising force, his breathing harsh and unsteady. "You're so tight," he managed, voice strained with the effort of holding still. "Are you okay, mate? Do you need me to…"

Tom pulled off Robert's cock with a wet pop, gasping for air as strings of saliva connected his lips to the swollen head. "Don't you dare stop," he panted, looking back over his shoulder at Jonathan with wild eyes. "I want all of it. I trust you. I want to feel everything from you."

The raw need in Tom's voice seemed to snap something in Jonathan. His grip shifted, one hand sliding up Tom's spine to press between his shoulder blades, bending him more forward over Robert's body. The change in angle drove Jonathan's cock deeper, and Tom cried out at the stretch.

"That's it," Robert growled from beneath him, his voice rough with arousal. Tom felt Robert's large hands cup his face, thumbs stroking across his cheekbones as he guided Tom's mouth down his cock. "Use me, take what you fucking need", Robert growled - eyes making sure to catch Jonathan to let him know that the back half of that remark was meant for both of them.

Jonathan's grin was animalistic as he pressed the blunt crown of his cock deeper into Tom's freshly breached entrance. In a low, teasing voice, he said, "Sorry, babe, I've got to have you", and shoved forward with deliberate force - pushing the next few thick inches into Tom's spasming heat.

Tom's body resisted for a split second, his rim clamped hard as it was forced to yield to the demanding intrusion. The sensation was exquisite agony: the stretch, the relentless pressure, the dull ache as his ass was pried open to accommodate more and more of Jonathan's length. Sweat began to pool on Tom's lower back.

Tom clutched the base of Robert's shaft and stroked it in time with Jonathan's slow and inevitable impalement. The heat of Robert's skin, the thudding pulse through the dick in Tom's palm, the salty taste throughout his mouth, and the musky scent of his balls made Tom dizzy with want. He opened his mouth and worked his lips down as far as he could, gagging himself gloriously as Robert's cockhead breached the back of his mouth and lodged further down his throat.

Behind him, Jonathan's breathing was getting rougher, louder, almost desperate. "Fucking hell, Tom," he hissed. "You're trying to milk me already." His next push was accompanied by a grunt and a sudden, sharp snap of his hips. The motion buried him to the hilt, and Tom's whole body jolted forward - Robert's cock going deeper into Tom's throat.

Jonathan shifted his stance and, with a deft roll of his hips, angled his cock upward. On the next plunge, the thick ridge of his shaft crashed right into Tom's prostate.

It was as though someone had jammed a live wire into Tom's body - electric pleasure radiated from within, his whole pelvic floor shuddering in response.

"There it is," Jonathan purred, the words thick with pride and hunger. He did it again, then again, each time nailing Tom's sweet spot with unerring accuracy. "God, the way you clench around me when I hit that."

Throughout the office, there was the wet slap of skin on skin and the faint grunts of animal satisfaction.

Tom's body tried to process the dual assault. His throat filled and stretched by Robert, his ass impaled and plundered by Jonathan, and every few seconds, another spike of devastating pleasure as Jonathan speared his prostate. He could feel pressure mounting in his balls, his cock leaking steadily onto the cold wood beneath.

Every thrust from Jonathan forced Tom further onto Robert's cock, stuffing his mouth full until his jaw ached. At the same time, Robert rocked his hips in tiny increments, fucking Tom's mouth with a measured ruthlessness that made Tom want to sob with gratitude. Every so often, Tom would pull off just far enough to gasp for air - then jam it back down until his nose was buried in thick, black pubes and his throat vibrated with involuntary groans.

Robert suddenly pulled Tom off his cock, gripping his hair in one fist. Tom gasped as the thick shaft slid free of his lips, his jaw enjoyably sore. Before he could catch his breath, Robert's cock was slapping against his left cheek, leaving wet smears of saliva and pre-cum across his skin.

"Look at you," Robert growled, his voice dark and fiery as he dragged his cock across Tom's parted lips. "Such a fucking natural at this." He pulled his foreskin back and forth, the heavy length of the whole cock feeling wonderful against Tom's other cheek. "Never seen anyone take cock so well. Almost like you were born for it."

Jonathan's rhythm faltered momentarily as he watched, his hands digging harder into Tom's hips. "Fuck, he's right," he panted, driving deeper into Tom's clenching heat. "You should see how this hole just swallows me up. Such a thirsty young man."

Tom's entire body burned hot with the remarks, his cock throbbing untouched between his legs while his head swam. Robert continued rubbing his cock all over Tom's face, painting his cheeks and lips with sticky trails.

Jonathan leaned over "Do you think one day you'd be able to take both of us? Rob and I in your hole at the same time?"

The image flashed through Tom's mind - stretched impossibly wide around both their cocks, filled more completely than he'd ever been. His cock twitched violently between his legs, a drop of pre-cum falling to the office floor.

"Fucking hell," Robert swore, his hips jerking upward as a massive gush of pre-cum flooded Tom's mouth.

Tom moaned appreciatively, savouring the salty-sweet flavour as it coated his tongue. He swallowed it down, licking his lips as he pulled back to catch his breath. The idea of taking both men simultaneously was overwhelming, terrifying, and absolutely thrilling.

"One day," Tom said, his voice rough from the stretch of Robert's cock. "Most certainly yes."

Jonathan's hips stuttered, his breath catching. "Jesus Christ," he hissed as his fingers dug into Tom's flesh.

Robert's eyes darkened impossibly further, his chest heaving with each breath. "That's not happening today," Robert said, his voice firm but gentle. He ran a hand through his hair, his expression serious. "As incredibly hot as that sounds, taking both of us could really hurt you if we're not careful. Need to work up to something like that."

Tom felt a mix of relief and disappointment wash through him. Still, his body clenched around Jonathan's cock at the thought again.

"But," Robert continued, "I do have another idea." He slid off the desk in one fluid motion, powerful thighs flexing. "Get him up here", he barked to Jonathan.

Before Tom could process what was happening, two sets of strong hands were holding him. Jonathan pulled out long enough for them to carefully manhandle Tom onto his back on the desk, his legs dangling over the edge. The wood was cool against his overheated skin.

Jonathan wasted no time, hooking Tom's legs over his shoulders and lining himself up. With one brutal thrust, he buried himself to the hilt again. Tom's back arched off the desk, a strangled cry tearing from his throat.

Suddenly, Robert was at Tom's side and leaning over to stroke Tom's hair - his large hand warm and gentle against Tom's scalp. "I've got you," Robert murmured, his voice low and soothing. The gentle touch anchored Tom, giving him something to focus on beyond the exquisite stretch of his body as it was overwhelmed by the fullness of Jonathan buried inside him. "You're doing so well."

Tom turned his face toward Robert, drinking in the softness in those dark eyes - completely at odds with the raw carnal energy flooding the room.

Jonathan remained still inside him, giving Tom time to adjust. His eyes were fixed on Tom's face, pupils blown wide with desire and something softer, something that made Tom's chest tighten when he saw them.

"Remember it's just us here," Robert whispered, his lips brushing Tom's temple and his beard tickling Tom's skin. "It's okay to want this, to need it. You don't have to hold back with us. We care about you, and we want to see all of you, Tom. Let yourself feel it all."

The sincerity in Robert's eyes made Tom's throat tighten. He managed a nod, squeezing Robert's hand in response. He'd never felt so exposed and yet so utterly safe.

Jonathan shifted slightly, the movement sending a spark of pleasure up Tom's spine. Tom turned to him and saw both undisguised affection and eyes wild with desire.

"Tom," Jonathan said. "I need…" He swallowed hard, his chest rising and falling rapidly. "I need to really fuck you now. Hard. Is that okay?"

"Yes," Tom breathed, then more firmly: "Yes. Fuck me like you mean it."

Jonathan's hands tightened on Tom's thighs, and then he was moving - pulling back almost to the tip before slamming forward with devastating force, pushing in and out of the man under him with a relentless rhythm.

Tom's body jolted against the desk, a sharp cry escaping his lips as Jonathan filled him completely. The angle drove the cock directly into his prostate, sending white-hot pleasure shooting through every nerve.

Robert watched Tom's face in awe as it contorted with pleasure. "That's it," Robert murmured, his voice rough with arousal.

As Tom closed his eyes to enjoy the sensation, Robert got up and moved behind Jonathan, pressing his broad chest against the other man's back. His large hands reached around to find Jonathan's nipples, pinching and rolling the sensitive buds between his fingers to gasps.

"Look at him taking it," Robert murmured, his beard brushing Jonathan's ear. "So fucking perfect. Bet he feels incredible around your cock."

Jonathan nodded frantically. "Tight... hot... fuck. I just want to live in it."

Robert's lips brushed against Jonathan's ear, his voice a low rumble. "Can you imagine what he's feeling, his insides being filled so full by your dick?" His large hands slid down Jonathan's sides, fingers digging into his hips. "You could feel it too, you know. If you let me inside you."

Jonathan's rhythm faltered, his eyes widening as he processed Robert's words. A visible shudder ran through his body.

"Would you like that?" Robert asked, his voice thick with desire as he pressed his cock against Jonathan's ass cleft.

Jonathan let out a sound - not quite a moan, not quite a whimper - his hips stuttering as he continued to thrust into Tom. "Yes," he breathed, the word barely audible. "God, yes."

Tom could feel the shift in Jonathan's rhythm as Robert began slowly grinding against the man from behind, parting the cheeks and lining up his thick cock to slide along the cleft of Jonathan's ass.

Robert's voice cut through the haze of pleasure. "Wait," he said, pulling back slightly from Jonathan. "This is Tom's call, remember?"

Jonathan stilled, his cock buried deep inside Tom, both men breathing heavily as they looked at Robert. The larger man's eyes were filled with desire and yet also a playfulness.

"Tom," Robert said as he leaned over Jonathan's shoulder to meet Tom's gaze. "Do you want to watch me fuck him? Want to see what Johnnie here looks like when he's the one being fucked?"

The image flashed through Tom's mind - Jonathan's lean body bent forward, his face contorted with pleasure as Robert's massive cock stretched him open. Tom's own cock twitched violently at the thought.

"Fuck, yes," Tom gasped, the words tumbling out before he could even think. "I want to see you wreck him."

Jonathan made a strangled sound, his cock pulsing inside Tom. "Oh fuck," he breathed, his fingers digging into Tom's thighs.

Robert grinned, all teeth and hunger, before dropping to his knees behind Jonathan. His large hands spread Jonathan's firm cheeks apart, exposing the tight, pink pucker nestled between them.

"Glorious," Robert murmured, his breath hot against Jonathan's most intimate place.

Before Jonathan could respond, Robert leaned forward and dragged his tongue over the exposed hole, the wet heat making Jonathan jerk forward. "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh FUCK!" he yelled as his hips stuttered, driving erratically into Tom while Robert's tongue circled his rim, probing and exploring.

Tom watched in awe as Jonathan's composure utterly crumbled - his eyes squeezed shut, mouth hanging open. The man who had been so confidently long fucking him moments ago was now trembling as Robert's tongue was utterly relentless, wet heat drilling deeper and deeper past the tight ring of muscle while the beard exquisitely scratched the sensitive skin of Jonathan's hole.

Jonathan had been rimmed before, but never with such hungry devotion. Robert wasn't just licking him out; he was fucking devouring him from the inside. Between the vice-like grip of Tom's perfect ass working his cock and the utter obscenity of Robert's swirling tongue invading him deeper and deeper, the relentless double assault built the pressure in his balls to an intolerable level.

He wanted to make this last, wanted to take the time to truly worship Tom, but he was barely holding on - the sensations too raw and his control draining away. "I can't…" The words tore out of him, desperate and edged with shame. He couldn't believe he was about to bust so soon, in front of both of them. "Rob, fuck… it's too good" His hands clawed at Tom's thighs, searching for something to anchor him.

Robert responded only by shoving his tongue in harder, tilting Jonathan's hips back and gripping them like iron tongs, his groans of pleasure vibrated directly through Jonathan's pelvis - beard and muscle and spit all mixing with heavenly friction.

Tom's hands slid up Jonathan's chest, gripping the hard lines of muscle and running his hands through the sweaty chest hair above him. "Do it, Johnnie, breed me", he urged.

The sight of Tom naked, hard, dripping and splayed out on the desk, eyes half-shut and saying such filth with such joy to him was enough to send Jonathan hurtling toward climax faster than anything he'd done in years. "Yeah?" he managed to gasp, voice cracking. "You want it?"

"Give me every drop."

Jonathan felt Robert's tongue slip free, within moments replaced by the heavy, hot pressure of Robert's fat cockhead pressed against his spit-soaked rim. Not pushing, just hovering, but the intention was clear as he stood behind Jonathan with his strong arms wrapped around him.

"Go ahead," Robert said, his beard grazing Jonathan's skin. "Let him have it. Then you're all mine."

The promise was too much. Jonathan locked eyes with Tom, helpless and wild, as the first pulse of orgasm tore through him. His entire body seized, hilt-deep in the younger man as scalding heat rushed up and spurted out of his piss slit, filling Tom with thick, rhythmic, creamy pulses that seemed to last forever. Each contraction wrung another desperate moan from deep in his chest.

Robert's arms supported Jonathan as he trembled through the aftershocks and slumped forward, the large hands holding him upright as the last pulses drained into Tom's willing body.

The room filled with the sound of their collective breathing. "Shit," Jonathan finally managed, his voice wrecked. "That was... I've never cum so hard in my life… didn't know I could feel that much"

Tom smiled up at him. The weight of Jonathan's release sat warm and heavy inside him. He clenched deliberately around the softening length, savouring the sensation of being so filled.

Jonathan winced as he slowly withdrew, his spent cock slipping free with a wet sound. A trickle of warmth followed, making Tom shiver as the evidence of Jonathan's pleasure began to leak from his well-used hole. The sight of his own seed dripping from Tom seemed to weaken Jonathan further; his knees buckled slightly.

Robert's strong arms tightened around the wobbling Jonathan's waist, holding him steady against that broad chest.

"Easy there," Robert murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through Jonathan's back. "I've got you, love."

Tom watched from his position on the desk as Robert cradled Jonathan with surprising care, one large hand stroking up and down Jonathan's sweat-slicked flank while the other remained firmly around his waist. Robert's lips brushed against Jonathan's ear, whispering words too soft for Tom to hear, but the effect was immediate - Jonathan's trembling subsided, his breathing steadied.

"That's it," Robert encouraged, loud enough now for Tom to catch. "Ease down, mate, easy… gentle."

Jonathan leaned back into Robert's embrace, his head resting against the larger man's shoulder. His eyes were half-closed, face flushed with exertion and lingering pleasure. Tom couldn't tear his gaze away from the sight they created - Jonathan's lean, pale body enveloped by Robert's darker, more substantial frame, the contrast between them heightening the beauty of both.

After a moment, Jonathan straightened, finding his footing again. He ran a hand through his sweat-dampened hair, a sheepish smile crossing his lips as he caught Tom watching. "Sorry about that," he said, his voice still rough.

Robert chuckled, his hands lingering on Jonathan's hips a moment longer before releasing him.

"Look at you," Jonathan said, his voice still rough as his eyes raked over Tom's body. "My cum dripping out of you and still hard as a rock."

Tom's cock throbbed at the words, achingly stiff against his stomach and leaking a puddle of pre-cum onto his abs. He hadn't come yet, his arousal suspended in a wonderous state of anticipation.

Robert and Jonathan exchanged a look, something wordless passing between them that made Tom's pulse quicken. They turned to him in unison, identical hunger in their eyes.

"So, Tom," Robert said, his hand still possessively splayed across Jonathan's hip. "Ready to watch me bend our friend over and fuck him until he screams? Give you a proper show?"

Jonathan's eyes darkened at Robert's words, his spent cock giving an interested twitch. "I think he'd like that very much," he said.

Tom's mouth went dry at the thought - Robert's massive cock stretching Jonathan open, the look on Jonathan's face as he took every inch. His own cock jerked against his stomach, another bead of pre-cum welling at the tip.

"Fuck yes," Tom breathed, pushing himself up to sit on the edge of the desk. "I want to see everything."

Jonathan turned to Robert, his chest still heaving from his intense orgasm. "You got any lube?" he asked, voice rough with lingering pleasure.

Robert's lips curled into a naughty smile that made Tom's stomach flip. He pushed Jonathan forward until they were both standing between Tom's spread legs at the edge of the desk. "Absolutely," he murmured, his dark eyes gleaming with mischief.

Robert leaned forward, sliding a large hand beneath Tom and gathering the slick mess from Jonathan's release that had leaked from Tom's body. His digits came away glistening, and he held them up, examining the pearly fluid with obvious appreciation before moving his hand directly under Tom's hole, his eyes meeting Tom and nodding. Tom understood.

Soon, Robert felt more of the warm seed dripping and coating his fingers as Tom bore down. "Perfect," Robert praised, his cum-slicked fingers now disappearing behind Jonathan.

Jonathan's eyes widened suddenly, lips parting on a sharp inhale as Robert's thick fingers breached him. "Fuck," he gasped, head falling back as his body adjusted to the intrusion. Robert's tongue had already loosened him up enough that he was able to take two fingers from the get-go.

Tom couldn't tear his eyes away from Jonathan's face - the play of expressions was mesmerising as Robert worked him open with slow, deliberate movements.

"Using your own cum to open you up," Robert murmured to Jonathan, twisting his wrist as he pushed deeper. "So fucking hot."

Jonathan's knees nearly buckled as Robert's fingers found his prostate, eyes squeezing shut as his hips pushed back instinctively against Robert's hand.

"How does it feel?" Tom asked, his own cock throbbing at the sight.

"Like…" Jonathan's words dissolved into a groan as Robert's fingers worked deeper, twisting inside him. "God, it's so good."

Tom leaned forward, unable to resist pressing his lips to Jonathan's. He swallowed the man's moans as Robert added a third finger, and Jonathan's entire body shuddered.

‘You're nice and open now," Robert said, his voice thick with desire. "Ready to ride this dick?" he asked as he swiped his wide cockhead against the quivering hole.

Jonathan moaned, the sound desperate and needy. "Please," he gasped, pushing back against Robert's hand.

Robert stepped back, his fingers slipping free of Jonathan's body as he looked at the scene before him. His eyes darkened with new purpose.

"Tom," Robert said. "I need you on the floor. On your back."

Tom blinked, momentarily confused by the shift but eager to comply. He slid off the desk, his legs still slightly shaky from Jonathan's intense fucking. The cool tiles pressed against his heated skin as he positioned himself on his back, looking up at the two men towering above him.

"Like this?" Tom asked, his cock still rock-hard and leaking against his stomach.

Robert nodded, his eyes gleaming with approval. "Spot-on." Robert's large hands then gripped Jonathan's shoulders, guiding him down to his hands and knees directly above Tom.

Understanding dawned on Jonathan's face as he straddled Tom's body, positioning himself so that his face hovered above Tom's cock while his ass remained presented to Robert. The position left Tom staring directly up at Jonathan's balls and recently stretched hole.

"Fuck, that's hot," Tom breathed, the view above him impossibly erotic. Jonathan's spent cock hung heavy between his legs, already twitching again despite his multiple recent orgasms.

Jonathan lowered his head, warm breath ghosting over Tom's aching shaft before his lips closed around the head - tongue swirling around the sensitive ridge of Tom's dick and drawing a desperate moan from deep in the younger man's chest.

"Tom," Robert said, his voice rough with desire as he positioned himself behind Jonathan. "You won't want to miss this."

Tom's eyes widened as Robert's massive cock came into view, the thick shaft glistening as Robert had used some of Jonathan's release to lube it up. Adding some spit to it, Robert lined up the dark, veiny cock's blunt pink-brown head with Jonathan's rim, the size difference making Tom's mouth go dry.

"Ready?" Robert asked, his large hands gripping Jonathan's hips.

Jonathan moaned an affirmation around Tom's cock.

Tom watched, transfixed, as the bulbous head of Robert's cock pressed against Jonathan's pucker. For a moment, there was resistance and then the insistent pressure saw the cockhead slowly breach the rim with a wet sound that thrilled Tom.

Jonathan's entire body tensed, his mouth momentarily slipping off Tom's cock as he gasped. "Mother fuckballs," he choked out, his voice strained but his body yielding to the impressive girth.

Despite the raw hunger in his eyes, Robert's style was gentle - making sure to take it slow - telling Jonathan: "That's it. Just the head for now. You're taking me so well, mate. Let your body adjust. You're safe with me, I'll take care of you."

Jonathan's mouth returned to Tom's cock, taking him deep as Robert filled him from behind. The dual sensation of giving and receiving pleasure had Jonathan trembling, his moans vibrating around Tom's length.

Robert began to move, slow, measured thrusts picking up speed. Each thrust gradually pushed his dick deeper into the man on all fours, the tight ring of muscle stretched impossibly wide as the brown appendage disappeared inside.

Tom watched as the veins on Robert's shaft pulsed, Jonathan's hole stretched, and his thighs trembled with the effort of staying upright. The sounds Jonathan made were muffled by Tom's cock, but the desperation was unmistakable.

Robert paused halfway in, giving Jonathan time to adjust. Sweat beaded on his forehead, jaw clenched with the effort of restraint. "Enjoying the show, Tomboy?" he asked, voice strained but elated.

Tom's mouth went dry at the question. "Amazing," he managed, his own cock throbbing as Jonathan's tongue worked the topside of Tom's shaft - his cocksucking skills getting sloppier as Robert resumed penetrating him.

Robert's powerful hips fed more and more of his length into Jonathan's yielding body. "Almost there", he growled as his abs flexed with the effort of control, the thick torso hair drenched in sweat as he fought to maintain a steady pace.

Tom was obsessed with the sight above him of Jonathan's rim stretched so wide around Robert's shaft. With one final, deliberate thrust, Robert bottomed out inside Jonathan - his heavy balls coming to rest against Jonathan's perineum.

"Fuck," Robert gasped, his head falling back. "Still so damn tight."

Jonathan released Tom's cock with a wet pop, his entire body slowly adjusting to the fullness. "Jesus, Rob," he panted, voice breaking. "I can feel you everywhere."

Robert began to move, slow, measured thrusts that gradually picked up speed. Each withdrawal exposed the glistening length of his shaft before he pushed back in, Jonathan's hole greedily swallowing it every time.

Tom's mouth watered at the sight of where the other two men were joined, and before he could think better of it, he repositioned himself until his face was directly under where Robert and Jonathan were connected. The sight of that dark shaft pistoning in and out of that hole and the smell of sweat, cum, and raw masculinity got Tom so turned on he couldn't resist. He leaned up and licked a hot stripe along the underside of his shaft.

"What are you…" Robert started, but his words dissolved into a deep moan as the tongue slathered his dick and around the stretched rim. The musky taste of Robert mixed with Jonathan's cum turned lube had Tom lapping eagerly at heavy dick with each withdrawal.

Robert gasped, his eyes looking down and locking on Tom's, pupils blown wide with lust: "Enjoying the taste of both of us?" he asked, to an enthusiastic nod in response.

Meanwhile, Jonathan's mouth worked Tom's cock with increasing fervour as he felt Tom's tongue growing bolder, exploring more of the connection where Robert's massive girth stretched Jonathan open.

Tom licked along the rim, feeling it flutter around Robert's invading length while the man above's thrusts became more deliberate, pulling back or angling in ways to give Tom better access. The pair worked in tandem on the hole.

Robert began long dicking Jonathan, pulling all the way out to and letting Tom take the head in for a quick suck, before Robert pulled out of the mouth and pushed forward into the ass above, plunging right down to the balls in Jonathan. As he slowly pulled out, Tom would shove his head in there and lap at the moving dick and stretched rim of Jonathan's hole - tasting the earthy, primal flavour of the act itself.

Tom's cock pulsed between Jonathan's lips, the heat and pressure building as Jonathan sucked him with growing urgency, hands roaming up Tom's thighs, kneading muscle and bone.

The animal energy of the whole room intensified. Jonathan's hips canted as Robert's cock speared him, and Tom felt the vibrations all the way through his body, a buzz of pleasure humming between his legs as Jonathan's mouth kept taking him to the root.

Tom's neck ached, but he couldn't stop. He wanted to gorge himself on their bodies, to savour every flex and tremor.

All three of them had devolved to breathy, wordless pleasure. The air thickened with the scent of sex, sweat, and anticipation.

Jonathan wasn't quiet anymore, the relentless onslaught on both ends was overwhelming him, and he wasn't at all shocked to feel himself back at full hardness again despite having cum minutes before.

Robert was close. Tom could tell by the way the muscles in his thighs trembled and his louder exhales. "Please don't stop," Robert groaned, his tone hoarse and urgent.

Tom redoubled his efforts, lapping faster at the slick, pulsing length which swelled even further. The taste deepened, grew saltier, thicker.

"I'm going to cum," Robert growled, his voice rough with need and his massive, sweat-slicked thighs clenched. "Fuck, I can't hold it."

Tom's heart raced, desire spiking through him like electricity. He'd never wanted anything more in his life than to taste Robert's release.

Robert wrenched himself free of Jonathan's spasming grip, his cock slipping out in a messy, dazzling arc, the head glistening wet and throbbing. The first thick rope caught Jonathan's quivering hole, some landing directly inside while much of it splattering all around the rim - drenching it in thick white as droplets of the heavy cream rained down across Tom's forehead underneath, the younger man gasping at the sinful warm shower stinging his skin.

Robert let out a brutal, shuddering groan as he lined himself up again and drove his cock home with one ferocious, hilt-deep thrust that buried the fat hog to the base in Jonathan's body.

Tom was utterly transfixed, watching Robert's large balls spasming once… twice as all the muscles in his groin worked in unison to push Robert's release out of his gaping piss slit and deep into Jonathan, whose insides spasmed - milking it for everything they could get.

Above, Robert's hands gripped Jonathan's hips hard enough to turn his knuckles white while Robert's face twisted with pleasure and something almost like pain. Down the other end of the desk, Tom could hear Jonathan whimpering over the sensation.

The next moment, Robert was moving again with urgency. He pulled out, cock still hard and glossy with a mixture of his own cum, pre-cum and Tom's spit. Before Tom could brace himself, the head was pressed to his lips, hot and demanding entry. Tom opened eagerly, taking the thick head back onto his palate - the slippery bounty of what had just happened inside Jonathan all salty and raw on his tongue.

Robert's hips jerked forward, insistently pushing more into Tom as the next pulse came - a hot, thick jet of fresh spunk that filled Tom's mouth with the unmistakable fucking delicious flavour of one Robert Gilbert.

Tom swallowed, only for the next pulse to follow instantly, coating his tongue, teeth and throat - so much it began to trickle out of his mouth. He choked but clung on, refusing to let go as Tom himself went over the edge.

Tom's own orgasm hit with devastating force, cock pulsing in Jonathan's mouth as pleasure crashed through him in waves. Jonathan swallowed hungrily, moaning around Tom's length as he drank down every delectable drop.

The whole body above Tom shuddered with release, Robert sliding the dick out of the mouth and kneeling on the floor, his eyes dazed but focused wholly on Tom and Jonathan as if he couldn't quite believe what he'd just done.

He looked down to see Tom, mouth laced with Robert's cum, lifting his head to fish some more leaking from Jonathan's abused hole.

As the last pulses of Tom's release subsided, Jonathan pulled away, his lips glistening with Tom's seed. With feline grace, he twisted around, capturing the kneeling Robert's mouth in a deep, filthy kiss.

Tom watched, mesmerised, as their tongues tangled, sharing his taste between them. Robert groaned into the kiss, his large hands gripping Jonathan's face with a last gasp of desperate hunger.

"Fuck," Robert said when they finally broke apart and licked his lips, chasing the flavour.

Jonathan leaned down and kissed Tom, the younger man moaning as Jonathan's tongue pushed between his lips, sharing the mingled flavours. The taste was intoxicating.

When Jonathan pulled back, Robert was there, claiming Tom's mouth with bruising intensity. His beard scratched against Tom's skin as he devoured him, groaning at the lingering taste of both Tom's and his own release on Tom's tongue.

Tom laughed, feeling lightheaded with pleasure and the aftermath of his intense orgasm. His body felt boneless, spent in the most divine way possible. The other two collapsed beside him on either side of him on the ground, their sweat-slick bodies pressed together - all three panting.

After a few moments of catching their breath, Robert stirred first, gently disentangling himself from the pile of limbs. "Don't move," he murmured, pressing a kiss to Tom's forehead and squeezing Jonathan's shoulder. "I'll be right back."

Tom watched through half-lidded eyes as Robert's magnificent form crossed to the small kitchenette. Tom's gaze traced the powerful lines of Robert's back, the jiggle of his sweaty and hairy muscular bum cheeks, and the way his muscles flexed beneath sweat-sheened skin as he reached for a clean white towel (thankfully, being an aquatic centre, there was no shortage of them).

The sight of him, movements unhurried but purposeful, made Tom's chest tighten with something beyond just physical attraction.

Robert turned on the tap, testing the water temperature with his fingers before wetting part of the towel and wringing it out. The domesticity of the gesture struck Tom as oddly intimate. When Robert turned back, his eyes met Tom's, and a small smile played at the corners of his mouth.

"You okay down there?" he asked, his voice warm and thick with affection.

Tom nodded, suddenly shy under Robert's attentive gaze. "More than okay," he managed, his voice still raw from the workout his throat had received.

Tom glanced at Jonathan beside him, sprawled on his back with his eyes closed, chest still rising and falling rapidly. They must look thoroughly debauched - covered in sweat, saliva, and multiple loads.

Robert knelt beside Tom, the damp towel warm in his large hands. He gently wiped the younger man's forehead and cheeks where streaks of Robert's own release had begun to dry. His touch was quite tender, each stroke of the cloth careful and deliberate.

"Mmm," Tom hummed, leaning into the touch. "That feels nice."

Robert gently asked Tom, "Let me know if I hurt you, yeah?"

Tom replied, "I'm good. Thank you for asking, though."

Robert smiled. "Everyone deserves to be looked after, especially after giving so much", he said as he continued his ministrations, gently cleaning Tom's chest and stomach with careful attention that bordered on reverence.

When Robert reached between Tom's legs, he paused, and Tom tensed, a familiar flash of embarrassment flaring, not because he wasn't clean but because someone was actually noticing this most intimate part of him.

Robert's hand didn't falter. He cleaned Tom's thighs, the stickiness at the base of his balls, then, with a final delicate gesture, wiped away the white streak of Jonathan's release where it had dripped from Tom's spent hole.

When he reached between Tom's legs, his touch remained gentle but still somehow intimate as he wiped away the mess of Jonathan's release that had leaked from him.

"Do you want me to…" Tom asked Jonathan, turning his head to look at the man beside him. Jonathan's right arm was thrown behind his head like he was posing for a magazine and his left hand lazily draped across his own chest. The cock had gone mostly soft but still looked thick and proud as it rested in a sprawl on his inner thigh.

Jonathan's eyes fluttered open at the sound of Tom's voice. He blinked a few times, then let a lopsided smile curve across his face. "Between cumming once in the locker room and twice in here, my dick needs a break for now," he said, voice stretched thin with satisfaction.

Tom laughed softly, the sound turning into a contented sigh as Robert's hands finished their gentle work with him.

Robert moved on to Jonathan next, with the same careful attention in every movement. He wiped sweat from Jonathan's brow, then down his neck and arms, before dabbing the sticky patches on Jonathan's belly and inner thighs. For a moment, he looked up - just a quick flicker of his eyes to meet Jonathan's - and something passed between them that Tom couldn't decipher but knew was important. Jonathan held the gaze, the lazy smile replaced with an almost boyish vulnerability.

Robert finished with Jonathan and set the towel aside with the same care he'd used on their bodies. He reached for the sideboard and retrieved a bottle of water, cracked the seal, and offered it first to Tom. Tom sat up, head spinning a little, and took two grateful gulps, water flooding over a tongue still tinged with salt and sex. He passed it to Jonathan, who drank deeply and then handed it back to Robert, who took the biggest gulp of all.

Tom let his gaze wander over Robert's body as the man lowered the water bottle. Droplets clung to his beard, and sweat still glistened across his broad chest and shoulders. While Robert had taken such care of both him and Jonathan, the man himself remained wonderously dishevelled.

"You missed a spot," Tom said, nodding toward Robert's torso where streaks of cum - both his own and Jonathan's - had dried in the dark hair covering his chest and stomach. Lower down, Robert's cock and balls looked particularly wet, still glistening with the aftermath of his powerful orgasm and Tom's enthusiastic mouth.

Jonathan pushed himself up on one elbow, his eyes roaming appreciatively over Robert's sweaty form. "Several spots, actually," he added with a lazy grin. "Though I have to say, you wear our mess quite well."

Robert glanced down at himself, seeming to realise for the first time that he was still covered in various fluids. He chuckled, a deep rumble that made Tom's spent cock twitch with interest despite his exhaustion. Robert reached for the damp towel he'd set aside.

Tom exchanged a look with Jonathan, a silent communication passing between them. With a shared nod, they both sat up and pushed the larger man down on the floor with a combined group laugh.

"No, no," Robert protested with a laugh as his back hit the cool tile floor. "I can do it myself."

"Absolutely not," Jonathan declared, snatching the damp towel from Robert's hand. "You took care of us. Now it's our turn."

Tom nodded in agreement, his eyes roaming over Robert's magnificent body sprawled before them. Even spent and exhausted, the man was a work of art - all that dark hair curling across his buff chest, trailing down his stomach, and framing his impressive cock.

"Besides," Tom added, "I've been wanting to take my time studying this body since you walked out in those green Speedos."

Robert's cheeks darkened with a flush that spread down his neck and across his chest. He looked like he might object again, but instead settled back with a sigh, surrendering to their care.

Jonathan began with Robert's face, dabbing gently at his forehead where beads of sweat still clung to his skin. Tom watched, mesmerised by the softness in Jonathan's movements as he traced the damp cloth along Robert's brow, down the bridge of his nose, across his cheeks and wiped a small spot of cum from Robert's beard.

"Your beard's incredible," Tom said, reaching out to run his fingers through the thick dark hair covering Robert's jaw. "So soft but scratchy at the same time."

"Feels amazing against my thighs. And other places," Jonathan added with a wink.

Tom took the towel from him and moved lower, dragging it across Robert's broad chest. The dark hair there fascinated him - much thicker and coarser than Jonathan's, with patterns that his fingers itched to trace.

"Is your chest sensitive?" Tom asked, watching goosebumps rise on Robert's skin as the damp cloth circled one dark nipple.

Robert inhaled sharply. "Very," he admitted, his voice rough. "Especially the nipples. Always been that way."

Jonathan immediately leaned down and flicked his tongue across the nearest nipple, drawing a startled yelp from Robert. "Like that?" he asked innocently.

"Fucker," Robert breathed, his cock twitching against his thigh. "Yeah, like that."

Tom smiled and continued his exploration, moving the towel down Robert's torso. The muscles of his stomach tensed under the attention, the definition of his abs more pronounced.

"So much hair," Tom marvelled, abandoning the towel to run his fingers through the thick trail that led from Robert's navel downward. "I love it. It's masculine as hell. Suits you perfectly."

"Agreed," Jonathan chimed in, his hands now wandering freely across Robert's chest.

Tom's hand drifted lower, fingers skimming through the dense forest of hair surrounding Robert's cock. Even soft, it was impressive - thick and heavy against his thigh.

"When did you realise you were... exceptional?" Tom asked, gesturing vaguely toward Robert's crotch.

Robert laughed, the sound rumbling up from deep in his chest. "Changing rooms at school. I was fourteen, maybe fifteen. The other lads wouldn't stop staring."

"I bet," Jonathan snorted, taking the towel from Tom and gently cleaning around Robert's groin. "Must've been quite the revelation."

"It was bloody awkward," Robert admitted with a self-deprecating smile. "Didn't know what to do with all the attention."

"And now?" Tom asked, genuinely curious.

Robert's eyes softened. "Now I just hope whoever I'm with enjoys it as much as I do."

"Oh, we definitely do," Jonathan assured him, his fingers tracing the length of Robert's shaft with obvious appreciation.

Tom nodded enthusiastically. "The way you taste is incredible too," he added, feeling heat rise in his cheeks at his own boldness. "Thicker than mine, sweeter than Jonathan's."

"Different diets, maybe?" Jonathan suggested moving the towel to clean Robert's thighs. "Mine's always been saltier than a bag of crisps."

"Could be," Robert mused. "I eat a lot of fruit and pineapple juice."

Tom's eyes widened. "That's actually true? The pineapple thing?"

"Seems to work for me," Robert said with a wink. "Though I've never done a proper scientific study."

"Maybe we should," Jonathan suggested, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "For science, of course."

The three of them dissolved into laughter, the sound echoing off the walls of the office. Tom couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this comfortable with two people he had just met in such an intimate way.

As their laughter subsided, Tom found himself drawn to Robert's face again. Without thinking, he leaned down and pressed his lips to Robert's, a gentle, questioning kiss. Robert responded immediately, one large hand coming up to cradle the back of Tom's head, deepening the kiss with a hunger that belied his exhaustion.

When they broke apart, Jonathan was watching them with undisguised desire. "My turn," he murmured, leaning over to claim Robert's mouth for himself.

Tom watched, entranced, as their lips met - Robert's full and soft beneath Jonathan's more demanding pressure. The kiss was languid and thorough, both men taking their time to explore each other.

When they separated, Robert reached for Tom with one hand and Jonathan with the other, pulling them both down until they were all tangled together on the floor, a mess of limbs and warm skin.

"Come here," Robert growled, guiding Tom's mouth back to his while his other hand threaded through Jonathan's hair.

They traded kisses, each taking turns to taste and be tasted, to explore and be explored. Tom lost track of whose lips were on his at any given moment - only aware of the heat, the softness, the growing connection between the three of them.

Jonathan's tongue traced the seam of Tom's lips, coaxing them open. Tom yielded willingly, moaning softly as Jonathan deepened the kiss. He felt Robert's lips on his shoulder, trailing up his neck, beard scratching satisfyingly against his skin.

Tom turned to capture Robert's mouth again, pouring all his unspoken feelings into the kiss. Robert's lips were surprisingly soft beneath the scratch of his beard, his tongue exploring Tom's mouth with gentle insistence.

Jonathan moved to Robert's other side, pressing kisses along his jaw and neck, occasionally meeting Tom's eyes over Robert's body with a look of shared wonder.

They continued like this for ages, trading lazy, unhurried kisses, hands wandering without urgency, simply enjoying the closeness, the connection, the warmth of skin against skin.

Tom felt something settle in his chest - a certainty, a rightness. Whatever was happening between the three of them felt like the beginning of something important.

Still, someone had to break the silence. "So," Tom said, unable to keep the smile from his face, "about that certification..."

Robert groaned, dropping his head into his hands as Jonathan and Tom dissolved into laughter once more.

After things calmed down, Robert turned to Tom. "We should probably think about getting back to the pool," he said reluctantly. "And I'm not sure how I'm going to explain the state of this office."

Tom snorted, his eyes following Robert's gaze to the desk where streaks of various bodily fluids were drying on the polished wood. "We did make quite a mess."

"Just 'quite'?" Robert raised an eyebrow, gesturing to the cum-splattered glass partition. "That's seventeen violations of the health and safety act right there."

They all burst into laughter, Tom feeling lighter than he had in months, his body pleasantly sore and his mind blissfully clear.

"I've got cleaning supplies in the drawers," Robert said, pushing himself up from the floor with a grunt. "Though I'm not sure how to explain the smell."

"Just tell them you were having an intense workout," Jonathan suggested, waggling his eyebrows. "Not exactly a lie, is it?"

Tom laughed again, watching as Robert's magnificent naked form crossed the room and returned with cleaning sprays and paper towels, which he put on the desk.

He offered a hand to each of them on the ground. Tom marvelled at the strength in those fingers as they closed around his, easily pulling him to his feet. The three of them stood in a loose circle, still completely naked, exchanging glances that ranged from shy to amused to openly appreciative.

"As much as I enjoy the view," Robert said, his eyes sweeping over both their bodies, "we need less gawking and more wiping", as he handed them each a cloth.

Working together, they managed to erase most evidence of their activities. Tom kept finding himself distracted by the sight of the other two men - Robert's broad shoulders flexing as he stretched to clean high spots, Jonathan's perfect ass as he bent over the desk.

"I can feel you staring," Jonathan said without turning around.

"Can you blame me?" Tom replied, not bothering to deny it. "I'm starving after all that."

"God, me too," Jonathan agreed, attacking the desk with his cloth. "For actual food."

"There's a cafeteria downstairs," Robert yelled out from the corridor, wiping the glass partition. "Nothing fancy, but the sandwich and coffee machines work."

Tom's stomach growled at the mention of food. "Sounds perfect", he said, helping Jonathan with the desk.

"We should also probably put our swimwear back on if we're planning to do any more actual swimming today," said Robert as he re-entered the room.

Tom's eyes widened as realisation struck. "Shit, my Speedo's still out by the pool."

"Looks like someone's going to have to make a naked dash," Jonathan teased, already moving to retrieve his blue trunks from where they'd been discarded earlier.

Tom watched, transfixed, as Jonathan bent to pick up his swimsuit, the lean muscles of his back flexing. Jonathan stepped into the blue Speedo with practised ease, rolling the fabric up his thighs with a little shimmy of his hips that had to be deliberate. The material clung to every contour, outlining his still semi-hard cock in a way that made Tom's mouth go dry.

Robert was next, retrieving his emerald green trunks from near the desk. Unlike Jonathan's theatrical display, Robert's movements were more straightforward. He stepped into the Speedo, the dark fabric sliding up his hairy thighs before he adjusted himself, tucking his substantial package into the confines of the swimsuit. The contrast between the green material and his olive skin was striking, as was the way the fabric strained across his ass as he bent to adjust the leg holes.

Tom glanced down at his still-naked body and grinned sheepishly. "I'd better go grab my swimmers before we do anything else." He stepped away from the other two, already feeling the pleasant ache in his muscles from their activities. "Meet you by the pool in a minute?"

"Absolutely," Robert nodded, adjusting himself in his green Speedos. "We'll be right behind you."

Tom made his way to the door, feeling both men's eyes on him as he walked past the glass. The cool air of the corridor hit his bare skin, making him shiver slightly.

"Hot ass!" Jonathan called after him, his voice echoing in the corridor.

Tom laughed, throwing a cheeky glance over his shoulder to see Jonathan giving him an exaggerated thumbs-up while Robert shook his head with an amused smile. The sight of them together - Robert's broad frame next to Jonathan's leaner build, both barely contained in their tight swimwear - sent another pulse of warmth through Tom's chest.

He padded down the corridor, enjoying the freedom of being completely naked. His body felt pleasantly used, a welcome soreness settling into his muscles.

The pool area was quiet, the water still and glassy under the overhead lights. Tom spotted his red Speedos exactly where he'd left them, crumpled by the edge of the pool. He picked them up, the damp fabric cool against his fingers.

With a practised motion, Tom stepped into the swimsuit, tugging it up his thighs. The material clung to his skin, still slightly damp from before. He adjusted himself, tucking his semi-hard cock as comfortably as possible into the tight confines of the red fabric.

He was just finishing when he heard voices and turned to see Robert and Jonathan emerging from the corridor, walking arm in arm. They were talking quietly, heads bent toward each other, and the intimacy of the gesture made Tom's heart flutter. Robert was laughing at something Jonathan had said, his head thrown back, eyes crinkled at the corners.

They spotted him and their faces lit up simultaneously. Robert extended his free arm toward Tom, inviting him to join them.

"Come on, Holland," Robert called, his voice warm. "I'm starving, and this one keeps threatening to eat me if we don't get food soon."

"It wasn't a threat," Jonathan protested with a wicked grin. "More of a promise."

Tom crossed the distance between them, slipping his arm through Robert's offered one. The heat of Robert's skin against his sent a pleasant shiver down his spine. Connected like this - Robert in the middle, Tom and Jonathan on either side - they made their way toward the stairs leading to the cafeteria.

Chapter 5: Poolside Pounding

Summary:

After their intimate encounter in the office, Tom, Jonathan, and Robert head to the cafeteria for a break. They share stories and bond over sandwiches and drinks. The conversation turns personal, with each man revealing vulnerabilities and past experiences. As they return to the pool to continue the certification, the sexual tension builds again. Robert introduces a provocative twist to the exercises and Tom experiences being fucked by Robert for the first time while Jonathan watches and joins in the intense experience.

The cafeteria at the aquatic centre was little more than an afterthought - a closed-off serving/cooking area and a handful of plastic tables surrounded by vending machines that hummed with mechanical persistence. Thankfully, they were well-stocked and fresh.

Five empty sandwich wrappers lay crumpled on the table between the trio, alongside two cans of Coke Zero and a half-finished cup of black coffee Robert was nursing. Tom's body still hummed with satisfaction, the food and the hour of relaxed conversation helping recharge his batteries.

Right now, Jonathan was regaling them with one of his crazy stories. "So there I was," Jonathan continued, "barely 25, absolutely terrified about this war film we were doing. And Taron - bless him - had the most ridiculous moustache for his character."

Robert laughed, the sound deep and warm as he lounged in his plastic chair.

Tom still found himself stealing glances at both men's chest hair.

"You're telling me that moustache didn't immediately kill the mood?" Robert asked.

"Oh, it nearly did," Jonathan admitted, leaning back in his chair. "But we'd been dancing around each other for weeks. Sexual tension on set, you know how it is."

Tom nodded, all too familiar with the phenomenon. "So what happened?"

Jonathan's eyes lit up with mischief. "We were doing night shoots in this old mansion - freezing our arses off. The crew had gone to set up the next scene, and we were left alone in this little sitting room with a fire going."

Tom felt a familiar warmth spreading through his groin as Jonathan continued the story.

"Taron was complaining about how annoying the bloody thing was, and I said..." Jonathan affected an innocent expression, "' Maybe I could help take your mind off it, Mr. Egerton.'"

Robert snorted into his coffee. "Subtle."

"I've never claimed subtlety as my strong suit," Jonathan replied. "Anyway, before I knew it, we were on our knees behind this ancient settee, and I was discovering what a moustache ride actually was… also, the man could suck a basketball through a straw, incredible mouth."

Tom felt his face heat up as the mental image took hold. He shifted in his seat, aware of his cock stirring in his Speedos.

"And then?" Robert prompted, leaning forward, his dark eyes intense with interest.

"Right as he was about to finish, we heard the AD shouting that they needed us back. Poor Taron had to stuff himself back in his period trousers with the hardest cock I've ever seen."

"Christ," Tom breathed, reaching for the remnants of his soda to cool his suddenly parched throat.

"What about you, Rob?" Jonathan asked, propping his chin on his palm. "Any wild stories from your work? I mean you've done Shakespeare, movies, TV, stand-up comedy, music, there must be some wild tales?"

Robert's eyes crinkled at the corners. "Nothing that compares to Holland here blowing all three Chrises."

Tom choked on his drink, sputtering as Jonathan howled with laughter.

"I never said - " Tom started.

"You implied," Robert countered, a wolfish grin spreading across his face. "And I'm not judging. I'd have done the same in your position."

Heat crawled up Tom's neck. "It wasn't all three…. at once."

"Shame," Jonathan purred. "Details, please."

Tom rolled his eyes, but he couldn't help smiling. "Which one?"

Jonathan says, "Well, you probably know my vote. What about you, Mr. Gilbert?"

"Chris Pratt. I get the feeling he'd be the most naughty of the three," said Robert.

Tom's smile faltered. The mention of Pratt was a punch to the gut, unexpected and sharp. He looked down at his empty Coke can, suddenly finding the aluminium fascinating.

"That's..." Tom swallowed hard. "That's complicated, actually."

Something in his tone shifted the atmosphere, because Jonathan's playful expression morphed into concern. Robert's eyes narrowed slightly, his head tilting as he studied Tom's face.

"Mate, I didn't mean to…" Robert started.

"No, it's fine," Tom said quickly, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Pratt was... different from the others."

He traced a finger through the condensation on the table, drawing meaningless patterns as he gathered his thoughts..

"Evans and Hemsworth were no strings, no expectations. Just mates having fun." Tom's voice softened. "But Pratt... that got messy."

Jonathan reached across the table, his fingers brushing Tom's wrist in silent support.

"We were doing a Pixar film together, and he invited me to go on a camping trip," Tom continued. "Just the two of us in this forest in the Pacific Northwest for three days. The first day was all jokes and banter and hiking. That night by the campfire..."

Tom remembered the crackling flames, the stars overhead, the way Pratt's laugh had rumbled through his chest as they shared spirits.

"He kissed me first. Said he'd been curious, wanted to experiment." Tom's throat tightened. "It was amazing at first. We couldn't keep our hands off each other. We fucked against trees, on boulders, did some really risky shit - always the possibility of someone hiking by, which just made it hotter."

Robert leaned forward, his coffee forgotten. "But?"

"But I made the mistake of thinking it meant something. Started dreaming up this whole future. Weekend trips, secret dates. Proper relationship stuff."

He rubbed at his face, suddenly feeling exposed. "Turns out for him it was just a wilderness thing. 'What happens in the forest stays in the forest,' he said when we got back."

The ache was still there. Tom could still remember the moment in Pratt's car when the man had gently explained that he was straight, that this had been a one-time adventure, that he hoped Tom understood.

"He wasn't cruel about it in the slightest; he's a good man," Tom added quickly. "He was just... clear about what he wanted, and I'd obviously misread the situation. Still, it…"

"Hurts", Jonathan finished softly.

Tom nodded, suddenly embarrassed by how much he'd revealed. "Sorry, didn't mean to bring down the mood."

"Oh, Tom." Jonathan's voice was soft as he pushed back his chair, came around the table and wrapped around Tom's shoulders, pulling him into a firm hug in the chair

Tom let himself lean into it. He closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of Jonathan's chest against his cheek, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

Robert's chair creaked as he rose. Tom opened his eyes to find Robert kneeling before him with his broad frame. His dark eyes held Tom's with an intensity that made Tom's breath catch.

"Don't apologise," Robert said, his voice low and steady. "Not to me, not to Jonathan, not to anyone. There's nothing wrong with being honest about your feelings."

Tom swallowed hard, heat prickling behind his eyes. "I just... am I misreading things again. With you two?" The words came out rough, catching on the edges of his throat.

Jonathan's arms tightened around him, a reassuring pressure.

Robert's hand found Tom's knee, the weight of it warm and grounding. "Listen to me," he said, and there was something almost fierce in his tone that made Tom sit up straighter. "What's happening here isn't casual. It isn't just fucking around in a pool office or a changing room."

Tom's heart hammered against his ribs as Robert continued, his voice dropping to a near growl.

"I don't know what this is yet, but I know it's real. I feel it, Jonathan feels it, and you feel it too." Robert's fingers tightened slightly on Tom's knee. "Something's started here, something deeper than I expected, and I want to see where it goes. We all do."

Tom looked from Robert's intense gaze to Jonathan, who had moved to stand beside him, one hand still resting on Tom's shoulder.

"He's right," Jonathan said, his face completely earnest. "This isn't just a ‘bit of fun' for any of us."

Robert took a deep breath, his broad shoulders weighed down with a sudden heaviness. For a moment, the muscle in his jaw flexed as if he was weighing potential outcomes before committing to the next words. There was a flash of incredible pain, deep and unguarded, that crossed his face - a fleeting shadow so dark it made Tom afraid and desperate to know what memory had surfaced behind his intense eyes.

"It scares me", he says, staring down at his own hands for a moment, "More than a bit, actually." Jonathan shifted to stand behind Tom, his hand reassuring on Tom's shoulder, and both holding their breath for whatever Robert was about to say.

"I don't usually let this stuff in…" Robert gestured vaguely, his voice rougher, "these kinds of feelings. Not like this. I'm generally pretty compartmentalised… safer that way with the life I've had." His eyes darted between the two of them, trying to read their expressions as every word chipped away at what was obviously a very old and very strong mental wall inside him.

"But whatever we've started, it's different for me. I had a mate once, years ago, who tried to break past my guard. I shut him out, and not in a nice way. I regret that decision almost every day, but I couldn't admit I'd fucked up. By the time I tried, he'd already moved on. Got married. Never spoke to me again," Robert said, tears now flowing freely.

Tom realised that this was a story Robert probably never told anyone.

"I've let fear stop me before," Robert went on, now looking directly at Tom, then Jonathan. "But not this time. Fuck it, not this time. This is too good to push away because I'm fucking scared."

Tom's throat tightened as he absorbed Robert's words. He'd seen Robert being kind, caring and vulnerable already that morning, but this - the raw, unfiltered pain and hurt - was something he never expected to witness.

"I'm scared too," Tom admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. He reached out, placing his hand over Robert's, where it still rested on his knee. The skin was warm, slightly rough against his palm. "After Pratt, I promised myself I wouldn't let anyone in like that again. But now..."

He glanced up at Jonathan, feeling the steady pressure of the man's hand on his shoulder, then back to Robert kneeling before him and their hands touching.

"Now I want to try." Tom squeezed Robert's hand, feeling a surge of courage flow through him.

Robert's eyes softened, the tears shining in the light. He nodded, a small smile breaking through his serious expression.

"We've known each other for what, five hours?" Jonathan said, his voice light but sincere. "And already I can't imagine walking away from whatever this is." He moved to crouch beside Robert, who turned to smile at him even as a tear or two fell. "I know what you mean about fear," he said softly, looking at Robert. "I didn't always have my shit together either."

Tom watched as Jonathan's gaze drifted to the middle distance between them, his expression growing more contemplative.

"I was a late bloomer, I guess. Spent most of my teens and early twenties completely confused about who I was." Jonathan gave a self-deprecating laugh. "Everyone else seemed to know I was gay before I did."

Robert shifted his position, settling more comfortably. His knee pressed against Tom's calf, a warm, reassuring pressure.

"There was this guy in college," Jonathan continued. "My classmate, actually. Really nice bloke." His cheeks flushed slightly. "One day he walked in on me having a wank to some... well, let's say it wasn't exactly straight porn."

Tom felt heat rise in his own face, but he didn't look away from Jonathan's earnest expression.

"The thing is, I was still telling myself I was straight at that point. Just... experimenting, you know?" Jonathan shook his head. "Marcus just stood there for a second, said 'Sorry, mate,' and walked out. Later that night, he sat me down and asked if I wanted to talk about it."

Jonathan's fingers tapped a nervous rhythm against his thigh. "I completely denied everything. Said it was just curiosity. But he... he just looked at me with this understanding smile and said, 'It's okay if you're not straight, Johnnie. No one here cares.'"

Tom noticed Jonathan's voice had taken on a slightly different quality – softer, more vulnerable. His usually confident posture had shrunk inward, making him seem smaller.

"It took me almost three years to admit it to myself," Jonathan said. "And by then, I'd already done a lot of damage. Back in school, these lads in my year had started calling me gay as an insult. Made my life hell, actually. I was so determined to prove them wrong that I started dating this girl."

He rubbed his face, looking genuinely pained. "She was lovely – smart, pretty, funny. We dated for nearly two years. I kept waiting to feel what I was supposed to feel. Kept telling myself it would click eventually."

Robert's hand found Jonathan's shoulder, squeezing gently.

"But it never did," Jonathan continued. "And the whole time, I was having thoughts about men that I couldn't explain away. It wasn't fair to her. I was stringing her along because I was too scared to admit who I really was."

Tom felt a pang in his chest, recognising the struggle in Jonathan's words. "What happened?" he asked softly.

"I finally broke down and told her everything. Cried like a baby." Jonathan's smile was tinged with sadness. "She wasn't even surprised. Said she'd wondered for months but didn't want to push me."

He looked up, meeting Tom's eyes, then Robert's. "The amazing thing is, we're still friends."

Tom reached out, his fingers brushing Jonathan's wrist. "That's beautiful."

"It is," Jonathan agreed. "But I still... it means I keep things close to the chest, you know? After all that shame and confusion, I just got into the habit of keeping my personal life private. The industry doesn't help either – even now, there's this pressure to be a certain way, to present a certain image."

He took a deep breath. "I've had relationships since then, some good, some not so good. But I've never really let anyone all the way in. Not completely… until now, maybe," Jonathan added, his voice barely above a whisper - the words hanging in the air between them.

Tom looked at these two men, both of them so different from each other and from him, yet somehow fitting together in ways he couldn't have imagined hours ago.

"I think," Tom said slowly, "we all have our scars. But maybe that's what makes this work. We understand each other's damage."

Robert nodded, his eyes bright. "Learning to trust is fucking terrifying," he said, his voice rough. "But we're going to try."

Jonathan's face broke into a genuine smile, the vulnerability still there but now mixed with something lighter, more hopeful. The moment stretched between them, fragile and powerful. Tom was sure they were balancing on the edge of something profound – three men who had stumbled into each other's lives by chance and finding unexpected connection.

"So what now?" Jonathan asked, his voice gentle.

"Now, we get back to why we're here," Robert said, rising to his feet. He wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand, looking almost embarrassed at his display of emotion. "Once that's done, we figure it out tonight. You're having dinner with me, no excuses, and we'll talk it out and see where this takes us."

Tom stands next to Robert. "I'd like that," rubbing his shoulder.

"Me too," Jonathan agreed.

Robert cleared his throat, squaring his shoulders as if physically pulling himself back together. "Right, well. We should probably finish your certification. Can't have the insurance people after us."

Tom smiled. "Lead the way, Mr. Gilbert."

They gathered their trash, dumping it in the bin by the door before heading back toward the pool area. Tom couldn't help but marvel at how different everything felt now. The same hallways seemed transformed, infused with new possibility. This whole day had become something he never could have anticipated – the beginning of a connection that defied easy categorisation.

The air grew warmer and more humid as they approached, the familiar chlorine scent wrapping around them as the water gleamed under the lights, calm and inviting. Jonathan dived in, followed by Tom, and then both swam up to the poolside next to Robert.

"So what's left?" Jonathan asks.

"Thought I'd join you for the last part," Robert says. He rolled his shoulders once, flexing his arms just so, then bent at the knees and dove cleanly into the pool, entering the water with barely a ripple. Tom twisted to watch Robert's sleek, powerful form glide away from him.

Robert surfaced in the middle of the pool, flipping his head back in a spray of droplets before standing up. His body glistened, water beading and streaming down the muscle, the hair on his chest and forearms matted down to his skin - the water coming up to his belly button - putting his entire torso on display (and bulge not far out of sight).

Tom couldn't help but stare as Robert waded toward them, the water sluicing down his chest and rippling around his waist. The way the wet dark hair clung to his pecs, how the droplets caught in his beard and glinted under the lights – it was mesmerising.

"Like what you see?" Robert asked with a smirk as he approached, his eyes travelling slowly from Tom's face down to where his red Speedo sat beneath the water's surface.

"Can you blame us?" Jonathan replied. He leaned back against the pool wall, arms stretched out along the edge. "I could watch you move through water all day."

Robert laughed, the sound echoing off the tiled walls. "Goes both ways," he said, his gaze lingering on Jonathan's chest before shifting back to Tom. "You both look hot wet."

The air between them crackled with renewed tension, the emotional intimacy from before shifting towards something more primal.

Jonathan pushed himself away from the wall, swimming a lazy circle around Robert. "You know what would look even better?" he asked, his voice dropping to a low, suggestive tone. "If we ditched these Speedos for the rest of the certification."

Tom's eyes darted to Robert, who was watching Jonathan with an amused expression.

"I don't see why not," Robert said, his voice casual even as his eyes darkened. "The place is locked up tight. No one's coming in."

Jonathan's face broke into a delighted grin. "Well then," he said, hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his blue Speedo and pushing it down his hips. The swimsuit floated to the surface, and Jonathan snagged it, tossing it onto the pool edge with a wet slap - nearly hitting Tom in the face.

Robert followed suit, peeling the green fabric down his thick thighs before kicking it off and sending it sailing across the tiles.

Tom hesitated a moment before stripping off his own red Speedo, the liberation of being naked in the water sending a thrill through his body once again. His swimsuit joined the others on the pool's edge.

"Much better," Jonathan declared, his eyes roaming appreciatively over both of them.

Robert nodded and then reached down and pulled up the kettlebell from earlier, the weight had been left on the pool floor. He passed it to Tom.

"Final exercise. You need to swim to that end with this and leave it on the side," he said to Tom. "Use whatever stroke you like. The important thing to remember here is to go slow - this isn't a race, this is one of stamina."

Tom nodded. He started out initially with breaststroke before switching to a one-armed freestyle maneuver - it worked, but it was slow.

Jonathan watched Tom set off before sensing Robert behind him. "Keep facing that way," Robert said.

Jonathan's breath caught in his throat as he felt Robert's solid chest press against his back, the chest hair tickling his skin. The man's arms slid around his waist, and Jonathan felt the man's already hard cock pressing between his ass cheeks - no longer constrained by fabric.

"Fuck, haven't you had your fill yet?" Jonathan whispered, his eyes fixed on Tom's struggling with the kettlebell across the pool - he was about 12-15 metres away, moving slowly. Jonathan's pulse quickened as Robert's thick shaft nestled deeper between his cheeks. The heat of it was scorching against his wet skin.

"Not quite yet, babe." Robert's deep voice rumbled directly into his ear, sending vibrations down Jonathan's spine. The man's beard tickled the sensitive skin of his neck. One large hand gripped Jonathan's hips, and the other his cock, using both to pull him back slightly to increase the pressure.

"Have you ever actually measured how big you are?" Jonathan managed, instinctively arching his back to press more firmly against the intrusion, remembering how good it felt ramming in and out of him in the office. Robert's cock slid upwards.

"Nearly nine inches", Robert murmured against the shell of Jonathan's ear, his voice a low rumble that made Jonathan's knees threaten to buckle. "Yours is pretty close to mine in the length department. It's the thickness that intimidates people."

Jonathan's cock twitched hard in Robert's grip as those words registered. He could feel the massive head of Robert's shaft pressing insistently along his ass crack now.

"Not sure I'll ever get enough of that dick," Jonathan breathed, his voice barely audible over the gentle lapping of water against their bodies.

"Mmmm, I certainly can't get enough of your hole," Robert said, his grip tightening slightly around Jonathan's shaft. "But I'm saving this for our boy up there. Even so, I can keep you entertained while we watch."

Robert's hand, which was on Jonathan's hip, now slid up the torso. Fingers splayed across his chest, thumb finding his nipple and rolling it between his fingers, which yielded some whimpers.

Jonathan's eyes tracked Tom's progress across the pool. "He's so beautiful, isn't he?" Robert's voice was a low rumble that Jonathan felt more than heard. "The way he moves in the water. So smooth."

Jonathan nodded. Robert's hand continued its exploration of his chest while his hips moved rhythmically, his massive cock slid between Jonathan's cheeks, and the head occasionally hit Jonathan's hole but did not penetrate.

Tom struggled with the kettlebell, muscles straining against the weight. The sight of Tom's naked body cutting through the water, combined with Robert's insistent humping, made Jonathan's cock throb painfully in Robert's grip.

"Do you know how amazing you are?" Robert said, his voice dropping to a husky growl against Jonathan's ear. His hands tightened possessively around Jonathan's cock, stroking with deliberate slowness. "Watching you take me in the office... feeling you stretch around me... God, I can't stop thinking about it."

Jonathan's breath hitched as Robert's thumb circled the sensitive head of his cock underwater.

"The way you opened up for me," Robert continued, his beard scratching against Jonathan's neck. "So tight at first, then taking every inch like you were made for it. I've never felt anything like it."

"I can still feel you," Jonathan admitted, his voice strained with renewed arousal as his hips instinctively pushed back against Robert's massive erection. "Still feel you inside me, Rob. I think I can still feel your cum in me, too."

Robert's chuckle was dark and satisfied. "My spunk right up in you? I like the sound of that." His teeth grazed Jonathan's earlobe.

"I could get addicted to your cum too, so damn sweet," Jonathan murmured, "and watching Tom take your cock in his mouth right after you pulled out of me..."

Robert groaned, his hips jerking forward at the memory. "The way his tongue worked between us, licking around where we were connected..."

"I'm falling for both of you," Jonathan confessed suddenly, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. "Really fucking hard too." The confession hung between them, weighty and significant.

Robert's movements stilled for a moment, his arms tightening around Jonathan in a more tender embrace. "Same here," he whispered. "It's like finding something I didn't even know I was looking for."

Jonathan turned his head, seeking Robert's mouth for a heated kiss which quickly rose in temperature.

Tom's muscles were burning as he finally reached the far end of the pool. He heaved the kettlebell onto the edge with a grunt, then turned around - and froze at the sight before him.

Robert had Jonathan practically pinned against him, one large hand roaming across the actor's chest while the other worked steadily beneath the water. Even from this distance, Tom could see Jonathan's head finish a kiss with Robert, and then he threw it back against Robert's shoulder, his mouth slack with pleasure.

Heat surged through Tom's body, pooling low in his belly. His cock, which had softened during the exertion of swimming with the weight, was racing towards being erect again.

He pushed off from the wall, swimming back toward them with purpose, eyes never losing sight of Jonathan's face of sheer ecstasy and Robert obviously dry humping him. At one point, Robert looked right at Tom and smiled before nuzzling Jonathan's neck.

As Tom reached them, his feet found the pool floor, water sloshing around his chest. The scene was even more erotic up close - Jonathan's flushed face, the way his eyelids fluttered with each stroke of Robert's hand, the visible rhythm of Robert's hips working behind him.

"Finished your task, I see," Robert said, his voice remarkably steady despite his obvious arousal. "Good timing."

Jonathan's eyes opened, fixing on Tom with such naked hunger that Tom's breath caught in his throat. "Tom," he gasped, reaching out with one hand. "Come here."

The water parted around Tom's thighs as he stepped closer, his erection leading the way - Robert taking time to admire the young man.

Jonathan's outstretched fingers wrapped around Tom's wrist, tugging him closer until they were chest to chest, their erections brushing. The contact sent electricity racing up Tom's spine. Jonathan's eyes, dark with desire, locked onto his, and then Jonathan's mouth was on his - hot, insistent, tasting faintly of pool water and something very Jonathan.

Tom moaned into the kiss, his hands finding purchase on the wet shoulders. He could feel Robert's presence behind Jonathan, the larger man's hands still roaming over the torso. The knowledge that Robert was watching them, participating in this moment, made Tom's cock throb painfully.

When they finally broke apart, both gasping for air, Tom found Robert's intense gaze fixed on him. The man's dark eyes were molten with desire, his lips parted slightly.

"Now it's his turn," Robert said.

Jonathan's horny stupor broke, "wha?"

"Swim up to the end, grab the weight and bring it back here. I need some time alone with Tom," said Robert.

Jonathan nodded and moved forward a little shakily at first before gathering himself. He turned to see Robert again in all his erect glory, a dark Poseidon standing in the water - all muscle, hair, good looks and massive cock.

Robert had gestured to the younger man to take the position Jonathan was just in, which Tom was complying with - Robert's dark, hairy arms engulfing the pale, smooth skin of Tom.

Robert looked up to Jonathan - "Take your time, and I'll make sure you reach completion… of this course."

Jonathan didn't need telling twice, shaking off his horniness, he swam towards the end, but at a deliberately slow and relaxed pace.

Tom's breath hitched as that massive chest pressed against his back - all solid heat and overwhelming presence. Tom could feel every ridge of the man's abs against his spine, the coarse hair of his chest tickling between his shoulder blades.

"I got you, babe", Robert murmured, his voice a low rumble that Tom felt as much as heard. One large hand splayed across Tom's stomach, fingers spanning from hip to hip, while the other traced upward along his ribs. "Gods man, you're trembling."

Tom was trembling, though whether from nerves or anticipation, he couldn't say. The water lapped gently around his chest as Robert's cock pressed hot and insistent between his ass cheeks. Even through the water, Tom could feel every ridge, every vein, the thick head pressing insistently against him.

"Sorry," Tom whispered, his voice catching in his throat. "I'm just - the swim really took it out of me." He closed his eyes, feeling the solid warmth of Robert behind him, anchoring him in place. "And all this... It's a lot to process. In a good way, but still..."

Robert's arms tightened around him, protective rather than possessive. His beard brushed against Tom's ear as he spoke, voice low and gentle. "Take all the time you need, love. There's no rush here."

Tom's heart skipped at the endearment. He turned his head slightly, catching a glimpse of Robert's face. "Love?" he repeated, a small smile tugging at his lips. "That's cute."

Robert didn't return the smile. Instead, his expression grew serious, dark eyes searching Tom's face with an intensity that made Tom's breath catch. "It's not just a word, Tom. Not for me." His hand came up to cup Tom's cheek, thumb brushing across his cheekbone. "I don't say things I don't mean."

The water lapped gently around them, the only sound in the sudden stillness between them. "I think..." Tom swallowed hard, gathering his courage. "I think I'm falling in love with you, too. With both of you." The admission left him feeling raw, exposed in a way that had nothing to do with his nakedness. "Is that crazy? We just met today."

"If it's crazy, then we're all fucking lunatics," Robert murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to Tom's temple. "This connection between us... I've never experienced anything quite like this before."

Tom leaned back into Robert's embrace, letting the water support his weight as he processed the enormity of what was happening. He could see Jonathan not far from the end, the actor leisurely breaststroking now towards the far end and well over halfway there.

"Why did you tell Jonathan to take his time?" Tom asked, his voice barely above a whisper as the words escaped his lips. The question had been burning in his mind since Robert had sent Jonathan away.

Robert's arms tightened around Tom's waist, pulling him closer until every inch of Tom's back was pressed against the solid wall of his chest. His beard tickled Tom's ear as he leaned in.

"Because I needed to ask you something," Robert murmured, his voice a low rumble that Tom felt vibrating through his entire body. "Something important."

Tom's heart hammered against his ribs. "What is it?"

Robert's hand slid lower, tracing the contours of Tom's hip under the water. "I can't stop thinking about you. About being inside you." His voice dropped even lower, thick with desire. "I want to know if I can have you, Tom. Right here, right now."

A violent shiver raced through Tom's body, his breath catching in his throat. The massive cock nestled between his cheeks twitched, the head nudging more insistently against his entrance. The thought of taking Robert here, in the water, with Jonathan swimming in the distance, sent a surge of heat straight to his groin.

"Yes," Tom gasped, the word escaping him before his mind could catch up. "God, yes."

Robert's exhale was shaky against his neck. "You're sure? I don't want to hurt you."

"I'm sure," Tom breathed, reaching back to thread his fingers through Robert's hair. "Please, Rob. I need you."

Robert groaned, the sound vibrating through Tom's back. His hips shifted, the blunt head of his cock pressing more deliberately against Tom's entrance. The water provided some lubrication, but Tom knew it wouldn't be enough for Robert's considerable size.

As if reading his thoughts, Robert's hand left Tom's hip, disappearing beneath the water. Tom felt fingers circling his rim, testing, probing gently. "Relax for me," Robert murmured against his ear. "Let me open you up."

Tom did his best to relax, focusing on the sensation of Robert's fingers as they slowly worked him open, and the stretch burned slightly. He leaned his head back against Robert's shoulder, eyes fluttering closed as pleasure began to build.

"That's it," Robert encouraged, adding another finger to scissor in and out of him. "You're doing so well."

Tom moaned. In the distance, he could see that Jonathan had reached the far end and had now stopped to watch them with a hungry gaze, the kettlebell forgotten on the pool's edge. Their eyes met across the water, and even at this distance, he could see Jonathan's mouth part slightly as he watched what was unfolding.

Tom's attention snapped back to his surroundings as Robert added a third thick finger, stretching him further. They curled upward and found his prostate.

"Fuck," Tom gasped, his back arching. "Right there."

"Just wait," Robert chuckled, the sound dark and satisfied against Tom's ear. "I'll make you feel even better."

Robert's fingers slipped free, leaving Tom feeling empty and desperate. He pressed back instinctively, feeling the thick shaft slide between his cheeks. Tom's breath caught as the blunt head of Robert's cock found and then pressed more insistently against his rim - a steady, maddening pressure that had Tom letting out a soft whimper.

"That's it," Robert breathed against his ear, one hand sliding around to wrap loosely around Tom's chest. "Show me how badly you need it", he said as his hips rocked forward just enough that the tip began to breach Tom's hole.

The words caught in Tom's throat, replaced by a strangled moan as Robert's thick glans pushed just inside him. The slow, relentless stretch was intense, and his muscles clenched around the intrusion.

"Breathe," Robert murmured against his ear, one arm wrapping tighter around Tom's to hold him steady. "Just breathe for me, Tom. Relax into it."

Tom sucked in a ragged breath, forcing his muscles to relax as Robert's cock inched deeper. He tried to follow the instruction, drawing in a shuddering breath as he focused on the sensation of being opened so widely and filled so fully, inch by incredible inch.

The water lapped around them, creating gentle waves that pushed and pulled at his body - only stimulating things further.

"You're amazing, you know that," Robert groaned, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. He adjusted his stance, the slight movement driving him further in.

"Fuck," Tom whispered, his voice shaking. "You're so... God, you're huge."

Across the pool, Jonathan had abandoned any pretence of swimming. He had got out and was standing at the far end and openly masturbating to the sight of the two men. Knowing that Jonathan was watching, that he could see every moment of Tom's surrender, sent a fresh wave of heat through Tom's body.

"More," Tom gasped, pressing back against the intrusion. "I can take more."

"Easy tiger", said Robert, his chuckle was dark and appreciative. "Don't get too greedy," he murmured, his hips rolling forward to drive another inch into Tom's yielding body, the dick now halfway inside. "Though I love that about you."

Robert held perfectly still for a few seconds, letting Tom adjust while he gently kissed the younger man's shoulders - trying to calm him down.

Slowly but surely, Tom's breathing was stabilising, and Robert could feel the hole relaxing. "That's it," Robert murmured, his voice a low rumble against Tom's neck. "You're opening up for me."

At the far end, Jonathan had obviously had enough watching. He grabbed the kettlebell and was preparing to make his way back, but the sound seemed distant - muffled by the pounding in his own ears.

"Look at him," Robert murmured, his voice sending vibrations through Tom's chest. "Watch that handsome man swimming back to us."

Tom forced his eyes to focus on the far end of the pool where Jonathan was slowly swimming with the kettlebell, muscles straining, water rushing over his back and bum.

Tom could feel Robert's cock throbbing inside him, each pulse making his knees threaten to buckle. The stretch was incredible - he'd never felt so full, so completely claimed - even more so than with Hemsworth. Robert's breathing had grown hard against his neck, hot puffs of air that made Tom's skin prickle with goosebumps.

"Are you ready for him to see you like this? Split open on my cock?" asked Robert.

The words sent electricity straight to Tom's already aching erection. He pressed back instinctively harder, taking two more inches of Robert. The sensation wrung a low groan from both of them.

Tom's head fell back against Robert's shoulder, a broken whimper escaping his lips. The thought of Jonathan seeing him like this - opened up and desperate - made his cock pulse.

"Oh Tom," Robert breathed, his voice rough with strain. "Don't hold back. Let him hear how good you feel." His hand tightened on Tom's hip, holding him steady as he pressed forward in a single, relentless motion - determined to close the gap.

Tom's eyes rolled back as the broad head breached the deepest resistance and Robert bottomed out inside him, the heavy weight of the man's pelvis coming to rest flush against his ass. The fullness was overwhelming - every nerve ending screamed with sensation and pleasure, leaving him gasping.

Tom couldn't hold back the next moan, louder than any before, echoing off the pool walls. The man's cock seemed to swell even thicker inside him, stretching him impossibly wider, and all Tom could do was crave more.

"He's halfway back now," Robert murmured, his voice strained with barely controlled desire. Tom could feel the tremor in the larger man's hands where they gripped his hips, the heavy balls against his thighs, the coarse hair of the man's groin scratching against his skin. It disappeared for a second as Robert withdrew two inches, only to press in again.

Slowly, carefully, Robert began thrusting.

Tom couldn't form words. His mouth hung open as he tried to process the sensation of being so completely filled. Robert was all around him, inside him, consuming him, and he couldn't get enough.

He also realised in moments that Jonathan would reach them. The thought sent a fresh wave of arousal through Tom's veins. His cock throbbed painfully as Robert reached down and gripped it, leaking pre-cum that dissipated instantly into the pool water.

Tom's eyes focused on Jonathan, who was now only a few meters away and had reached the shallow end. The kettlebell had slowed his progress considerably, but he was moving steadily toward them, his face a mask of determination as he walked forward.

Jonathan's eyes took in the scene before him. Tom's back was arched against Robert's massive chest, his face flushed and mouth slack with pleasure. The water around them rippled with subtle movement, and Jonathan could see exactly what was happening - Robert buried deep inside Tom, holding him steady with those powerful arms.

"Fuck me," Jonathan breathed, dropping the kettlebell. His own cock, which had softened slightly during the swim, immediately was back at full hardness at the sight.

Tom's eyes met Jonathan's across the remaining distance, and the raw need in that gaze made Jonathan's chest tighten. Tom looked completely undone and desperate, his lean body trembling against Robert's bulk.

Robert's free hand slid up Tom's torso, fingers splaying across his chest, thumb finding his nipple and rolling it between calloused digits. The sensation shot straight to Tom's cock, making him clench involuntarily around the dick - ripping a groan out of both men.

"We need you," Robert said to Jonathan, his voice carrying easily across the water despite its low timber.

Jonathan moved through the water toward them, his expression hungry and desperate. Tom could see the way Jonathan's gaze travelled over his body - taking in the shape of his back, the way his muscles trembled against Robert's chest, the obvious stretch of his hole around Robert's massive girth.

"Please," Tom whispered, not even sure what he was asking for. The word came out broken, desperate.

Jonathan closed the remaining distance between them, his hands immediately finding Tom's face, pulling it into a kiss before pulling back and cupping it gently. "Look at you," he murmured, his voice thick with arousal but also utter amazement at what he was seeing.

Then Jonathan's lips crashed against Tom's again - this time with hungry intensity, swallowing his desperate moan. The kiss was all heat and need, Jonathan's tongue sliding against his.

Tom's hands gripped Jonathan's wet shoulders, fingers digging into the firm muscle as he tried to anchor himself against the dual sensations of Jonathan's mouth and Robert's impossible fullness stretching him open.

Robert's hips began to move in short thrusts that sent sparks of pleasure firing up Tom's spine. Tom gasped into Jonathan's mouth, his body caught between the two men.

"That's it," Robert murmured, his voice a low rumble that Tom felt through his back. "Show him how much you like it."

Jonathan broke the kiss to watch. "Can he go faster, babe?" he asked Tom, who nodded.

"Yes," Tom gasped, his voice breaking as Robert's cock shifted inside him. "Faster... please."

Robert's grip tightened on Tom's hips, holding him steady as he began to pull out slowly before thrusting back in with more force. The water around them churned with the movement, splashing against their bodies. Tom's mouth fell open in a silent scream as the thick shaft dragged against his prostate.

Jonathan watched, transfixed by the expressions flitting across Tom's face - a symphony of need, and the thrusting of Robert's incredible body into the younger man. He'd never seen anything so erotic in his life as Tom Holland being on the receiving end of Robert Gilbert's battering ram of a dick.

"Touch him," Robert told Jonathan, his voice strained with the effort of maintaining control. "I want to see you stroke that beautiful cock while you watch us."

Jonathan didn't need to be told twice. His hand wrapped around his own cock, stroking fast as he watched both faces contort with pleasure. "God, you both look fucking incredible," Jonathan breathed, his eyes then locked on Tom's flushed face. "Does it feel good? Having him inside you?"

Tom could barely form words as Robert's cock stretched him so completely. "Y-yes," he managed, his voice breaking as Robert angled his hips slightly, dragging the thick head of his cock directly across Tom's prostate. "Oh fuck - it's so - he's so big."

Robert's thrusts became more purposeful, each one designed to drag across that sensitive spot inside Tom that felt like liquid fire.

"I'm going to…" Tom gasped, his words cut off as Robert's hand gripped the base of his cock, holding back the orgasm.

"Hold it in Holland, not yet, you're not," Robert murmured against his ear, his voice rough with strain.

Tom whimpered, his body trembling with the effort of stopping himself from orgasming. Jonathan's breathing had grown ragged as he watched them, his own hand working frantically over his own shaft. The sight of Jonathan's desperate arousal only pushed Tom and Robert closer to the edge.

Robert's pace increased, water splashing around them as his powerful hips drove forward. Tom could feel the man's cock swelling inside him. "Fuck, I'm close," Robert growled behind him, his voice strained. His thrusts became shorter, more urgent.

Jonathan moved closer, his breath hot on Tom's face. "I want to watch him cum in you," he said, his eyes dark with desire. "I want to see what you look like getting bred so hard."

Tom's cock throbbed painfully at Jonathan's words. He was so close, the pressure building at the base of his spine, his balls drawing up tight against his body. Robert's grip on his cock had loosened, and Tom knew he wouldn't be able to hold back much longer.

Jonathan reached in and swatted Robert's hand away, firmly gripping Tom's cock and pulling on it hard, his own throbbing erection briefly forgotten as he focused entirely on getting Tom off.

"Please," Tom gasped, not even sure what he was begging for. His hands reached out blindly, finding Jonathan's shoulders and digging in. "Please, I need - "

"I know what you need," Robert murmured, his voice a low rumble against Tom's ear. His hips snapped forward, driving his cock deeper. "Take it. Take all of it."

Robert pushed harder than he had ever before on one particular thrust, hitting Tom's prostate dead-on, and the dam broke.

Tom didn't just orgasm. He detonated. Cum erupted from him in blinding, thick pulses that arched onto Jonathan's chest, chin and abs, painting pale streaks across the wet and lightly tanned skin in one of the most pornographic displays of Tom's life.

Robert never slowed, never relented, grunting with effort as he thrust straight through the spasms of Tom's orgasm, splitting him mercilessly with every piston of his hips while Tom's cock pulsed - prolonging his release until it bordered on painful.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Tom chanted, his voice breaking as waves of pleasure crashed through him.

Jonathan's hand quickly returned to his own cock, the sight of Tom being fucked out of his mind and his cum shooting out in thick ropes, splattering in hot bursts over his own torso was too much to withstand. He was groaning nonstop, eyes locked on the obscene way Tom's lean waist was enveloped by Robert's huge frame.

"Jesus...fuck...Tom…" Jonathan gasped, his voice hoarse and shredded. He didn't even care how desperate he sounded. The sight of the cum between them, Tom's head lolling back against Robert's shoulder, was more beautiful and filthy than anything he'd ever imagined. His cock jerked hard. His words dissolved into a groan as he climaxed, pointing his dick directly at Tom's flexed abs and chest as he shot hot ribbons of wet white all over them in great splashes.

Tom reached forward, half-blind, and smeared his cum off Jonathan's chest onto his own trembling fingers. Tom brought it up behind him, offering his hand back with a kind of frantic, dazed need. Robert took the fingers into his mouth, snarling as he sucked them clean, and Tom felt the man's cock somehow thicken, pulse even harder inside him.

Robert's face was a mask of iron control, jaw clenched, eyes fixated on his own girth pistoning in and out of Tom, sweat beading on his brow. Jonathan watched, breath catching, as Robert leaned forward and pressed his lips to Tom's neck - biting, tasting, staking his own claim. He pumped his hips one final, punishing time, burying himself to the hilt inside Tom, and then let loose a guttural, animal groan. Jonathan thought he might break Tom in half.

The chest against Tom's back went rigid - every muscle petrified before Robert's own climax tore through him. Tom felt the man's cock jerk inside, and then a spreading, impossible heat as Robert's incredibly thick and dense cum blasted deep into him. The animalistic sensation of being filled to the brim by another man's release, thick jets of his DNA inside him, made Tom's insides clench and milk Robert for every last drop.

"Fucking hell," Robert groaned, his whole body shuddering at the force of his own orgasm.

None of them knew how long they stood there, wrapped up in one another and the aftermath, but eventually Tom became aware of wet hands stroking his back, soothing touches that grounded him. Robert's big hands gently rubbing Tom's side in slow, comforting circles. Jonathan traced idle patterns over Tom's chest, gathering the cooling splatters of his own cum.

Tom sought Jonathan's gaze and found it instantly. The older man looked at him with something close to awe. He tried to smile, but his lips trembled, and instead he reached out and let Jonathan cradle his face, thumb stroking across his cheek.

Robert eased back, pulling out so slowly that Tom's empty hole spasmed in protest. He whimpered at the loss, but then Robert's arms closed around him in a hug that was incredibly gentle for someone who'd just tried to fuck him in half. He felt the huge man's heart pounding against his back, the rise and fall of his chest as Robert got his breathing under control.

"Fuck. That was…" Robert started, but words seemed to fail him. Instead, he let out a low, stunned laugh and kissed the crown of Tom's head. "Are you alright?" he murmured against Tom's ear, one large hand stroking his stomach in gentle circles. "I didn't break you, did I?"

Tom shook his head, finally finding his voice. "I'm perfect," he managed, the words slightly slurred. "That was... God, I don't even have words."

Jonathan moved closer, his hands coming up to cradle Tom's face. "You look thoroughly debauched," he said with a fond smile, thumbs brushing across Tom's flushed cheeks. "It looks good on you."

Tom leaned into the touch, both men watching him with matching expressions of love and affection that made his chest tighten.

"I think," Robert said, his voice still rough from exertion, "that we can officially consider your certification complete." All three men chuckled.

Chapter 6: Hot Tub Cum Machine

Summary:

After their intense encounter in the pool, Tom, Jonathan, and Robert move to a recovery hot tub - soaking in the warm water, allowing their bodies to relax and recover. The trio shares tender moments, exchanging gentle kisses and affectionate touches as they discuss the possibility of continuing their relationship beyond Glasgow. As the water cools, they move to the showers where they engage in some sensual soap play, exploring each other's bodies with reverence and care.

Tom’s mind was so scrambled by pleasure and exhaustion that it hardly felt real. "I... I can’t stand properly," he stammered, pressing his forehead to Jonathan’s. "Holy shit."

Jonathan laughed, holding Tom even tighter. "You okay?"

Tom nodded, "I think so. I... yeah," he said as he caught his breath in slow, measured sips. Gradually, the world resolved into sense again. He became aware of the bodies against his and the slow, lazy swirl of water around them.

He also felt a deep, secret satisfaction at the way Jonathan’s cum still streaked his chest, at the soreness in his rim where Robert’s cock had forced him wide open, at the way his own muscles trembled from being used so thoroughly, and at the heat of Robert’s cum inside him.

"I think... I might need to get out of the water for a minute," Tom said, his voice still shaky. His legs felt like they might give out completely.

"Let's go", Robert said, his deep voice gentle now. He exchanged a look with Jonathan, who nodded.

Together, they guided Tom to the pool's edge. Robert hoisted himself out first, water streaming down his large frame, his spent and half-hard cock still impressively huge even in this state. He reached down with those powerful arms and lifted Tom as if he weighed nothing, setting him up on his feet and holding him steady as Jonathan got out.

Jonathan kneeled behind Tom and parted his ass cheeks. "We should make sure you're okay", he said.

Tom felt a flush creep up his neck and face as Jonathan examined him, and Robert noticed the blush and smiled. Between his legs, Jonathan's fingers gently probed around Tom's stretched, sensitive rim, making Tom hiss at the tender contact.

"Looks okay," Jonathan murmured, his breath warm against Tom's inner thigh. "A bit red, but no tearing."

"Of course not," Robert said from somewhere above Tom's head. "I know what I'm doing."

Tom turned pinker as he felt some of Robert's cum leaking from him, warm and thick, trickling down. The sensation should have been embarrassing, but instead, it sent another pulse of arousal through his spent cock.

"Holy fuck, the size of the load you put in him," Jonathan said, staring in open marvel at Tom’s twitching, leaking rim. He glanced up at Robert, then back at the evidence seeping from Tom’s body, his grin wide and wicked. "You’ve turned his ass into a soft serve machine."

Tom's legs trembled beneath him as another trickle of Robert's release slipped free, the sensation making his oversensitive rim flutter. "I can feel it," Tom whispered, his voice hoarse. "Still so warm inside me."

Robert's large hand settled on the small of Tom’s back, fingers splaying wide across the damp skin. "Good," he rumbled, and Tom could hear the satisfaction in his voice. "I love knowing part of me is staying with you."

Jonathan rose from his crouch, his hands trailing up Tom's thighs as he stood. "We should get you cleaned up properly," he said, though his eyes lingered on the mess between Tom's legs with obvious appreciation. "Hot shower, maybe?"

"I’ve an even better idea", said Robert. "There’s a recovery hot tub in the change room, not too hot - just nice and warm with gentle jets."

"Sounds great", said Tom. "Lead the way".

Robert led them through the pool area toward the changing rooms, his hand never leaving Tom's back as they walked. Tom found himself grateful for the steady contact - his legs still felt unsteady beneath him, muscles trembling with aftershocks from what had just happened. Jonathan walked close beside them, occasionally shooting concerned glances his way.

The changing room felt different now than it had this morning. Robert guided them past the lockers to a door Tom hadn't noticed earlier, marked 'Recovery Suite.' Inside was a smaller, more intimate space with bench seating, various equipment and a four-person hot tub.

"Staff rest area," Robert explained, turning a dial on the wall. "They use it for muscle recovery after long training sessions."

Tom watched steam begin to rise from the surface as the jets kicked in gently. The sound was soothing, almost hypnotic. Jonathan appeared beside him as they helped Tom sit in the tub. Then they both got in with him.

"See, nice and warm but not too hot, so you won’t overheat. Just enough for muscle soothing," said Robert.

"Comfy, babe?" asked Jonathan.

Tom nodded, the bubbles running over his skin making him feel immediately better.

The warm water lapped at his chest as he sank deeper, letting the gentle jets work against his sore legs and back. The heat seeped into his bones, loosening remaining tension.

He could feel the last traces of Robert's cum still occasionally leaking from him into the water, but the sensation felt less intense now, more a gentle reminder than the overwhelming fullness from before.

"Better?" Robert's voice came from his left, low and concerned.

Tom opened his eyes to find both men watching him with expressions of genuine care. Robert had those dark, severe eyes, water droplets clinging to his beard, and his thick black hair was slicked back from his forehead. Even relaxed like this, the man radiated a quiet power that made Tom's stomach flutter.

Jonathan had settled on Tom's other side, close enough that their thighs brushed under the water. Tom could feel the wiry strength in those lean muscles as Jonathan's arm came to rest along the back of the tub behind him.

"Much better," Tom said, his voice still slightly hoarse. "This was exactly what I needed."

One of Jonathan's hands touched his knee under the water, fingers tracing the skin. "You scared us for a minute there. Your legs almost gave out."

Tom felt heat creep up his neck. "Sorry about that, it was just... so intense" He glanced between them, suddenly shy despite everything they'd just shared. "Was it obvious I was so overwhelmed?"

"A little," Robert said, his voice gentle. "I could feel you shaking." His large hand settled on Tom's shoulder, thumb rubbing circles against his skin. "I’m sorry, I've been told I can be a bit... overwhelming."

Tom let out a breathless laugh. "You think?" he said as the jets massaged his lower back. "I'm not complaining. That was... brilliant."

Jonathan's fingers traced lazy patterns on Tom's knee under the water. "I think most blokes would be limping for a while after that," he said as he shook his head, eyes bright with admiration.

Robert laughed, the sound rumbling through the small space. "Not sure if that's a compliment to me or Tom."

"Both," Jonathan said, decisively looking at them both affectionately. "Definitely both."

Tom sank deeper into the bubbling water, letting it rise to his chin. The warmth eased the pleasant ache in more muscles, while the jets massaged away his tightness.

"So," Jonathan said after a few minutes of comfortable silence. "What happens now?"

Tom opened his eyes to find both men looking at him, their expressions open and expectant. The question hung in the steam-filled air between them.

"Well," Tom started, shifting slightly in the water, "I have a costume fitting late this afternoon. Can't really get out of that. What time is it by the way?"

"About 2:30", said Robert, looking at a clock Tom couldn’t see from his angle.

Tom sighed, "I’m going to have to leave in about an hour."

"That's all right," Jonathan said, settling back against the tub's edge. "We should probably rest and take some hours off to recover anyway." He ran a hand through his damp hair, looking suddenly tired. "I don't think I've ever cum so much in one day."

Robert nodded, his chest rising and falling as he breathed deeply. "Same here. Haven't cum this many times so close together in a decade, maybe." He shifted in the water, wincing slightly. "My body needs a break from sex, honestly."

Tom felt a wave of relief wash over him. The admission that they all needed time made him feel less fragile, less like he was the only one overwhelmed by what had just happened.

More minutes passed in peaceful silence, broken only by the quiet hum of the jets and the occasional splash of water. Tom could still feel the pleasant afterglow thrumming through his veins.

When he opened his eyes, he found Jonathan watching him with a soft expression. Without thinking, Tom shifted closer, drawn by the warmth in those eyes. Jonathan's arm came around his shoulders automatically, pulling him against his lean frame.

The contact felt natural, comfortable. He tucked his head into the curve of Jonathan's neck, breathing in his scent.

"Mmm," Jonathan hummed, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on Tom's shoulder blade. "This is nice."

Tom felt Jonathan's lips press against the top of his head, a gentle kiss that sent warmth spreading through his chest. He tilted his face up, meeting Jonathan's gaze for a moment before their lips found each other in a slow, unhurried kiss.

This wasn't the desperate hunger from this morning, but something softer, more tender. Tom's mouth moved against Jonathan's with languid appreciation.

When they parted, Tom became aware of Robert's presence beside them. He had moved closer during their kiss, his eyes watching them with obvious affection.

"Come here," Tom murmured, reaching out with his free hand to touch Robert's bearded cheek.

Robert leaned into the contact, his eyes fluttering closed at the gentle touch. Tom guided him closer until he could press their lips together; this kiss was just as soft as the one he'd shared with Jonathan.

Robert's mouth was warm and pliant against his, the scratch of his beard a pleasant contrast to the smoothness of his lips.

As their lips parted, Tom felt a pleasant sensation lingering on his mouth. He leaned back, his eyes still half-closed in contentment, creating just enough space between them to watch as Robert's gaze shifted to Jonathan.

Without a word, Robert reached across Tom's chest, his large hand cupping the back of Jonathan's neck. Jonathan leaned forward, meeting Robert halfway. Their lips connected in a kiss that started gently but quickly deepened. Tom watched, transfixed, as Robert's beard brushed against Jonathan's jawline, their mouths moving together with practised ease.

The way Jonathan's fingers dug into Robert's hair, how Robert's thumb stroked the sensitive skin behind Jonathan's ear. They kissed like they'd been doing it for years and knew exactly how to fit together.

Tom's breath caught in his throat. The steam from the hot tub rose around them, creating a dreamlike atmosphere as water droplets clung to their skin. The sight of these two beautiful men deeply kissing just inches from him made his chest ache with longing and desire.

When they finally broke apart, both men turned to look at Tom with matching expressions of affection. Jonathan's lips were slightly swollen, his eyes bright. Robert's beard couldn't hide the smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Sorry," Jonathan said, though he didn't look sorry at all. "Got carried away there."

"Don't apologise," Tom replied, his voice coming out rougher than he expected. "That was great to watch."

"I think we need to talk about tonight," Robert said, his voice gentle but serious. "My place at seven?" he suggested as his arm slid around Tom's shoulders, pulling him closer. "I can make dinner. Nothing fancy, but I'm a decent cook."

Tom blinked, surprised by the normalcy of the suggestion after everything that had happened between them. "Dinner sounds great," he said, unable to keep the smile from his face. "What's your address?"

Robert recited it, explaining it was in a quieter and fancier part of Glasgow. "It's not huge, but it’s private and there's plenty of space for the three of us for a few days of shacking up until my work in town is finished," he added, a hint of uncertainty creeping into his voice. "If that's what you both want?"

"It's exactly what I want," Jonathan said firmly, his hand finding Tom's under the water and squeezing. "Better than the shithole hotel they’ve got me booked in at the moment. I think we should discuss how this works in practice. I mean, we're all here for work, but eventually..."

Tom's stomach fluttered at the implied future beyond their time in Glasgow. "I'm in London most of the time when I'm not filming, got a house in West London" he offered. "What about you two?"

"Brighton but I can get to London fairly easy, and like you I’m up here for another two weeks", Jonathan said, relieved at Tom's willingness to discuss logistics.

Robert nodded. "I've got a flat in south London, but I've got a shoot coming up for a new season of ‘Bergerac’ which takes me down to Jersey for a few weeks during the middle of the week, but I’m back in the city Fridays to Mondays. We can make it work if we want to. Modern technology and all that."

Jonathan says, "The idea of you showing off your ass on webcam is very hot, Mr. Gilbert"

Tom added "fuck yes," so automatically that he suddenly got a look of ‘being caught’ on his face that made the other men laugh.

Robert’s laugh came back down to a smile. "Well, if you like my bum so much..." He shifted in the hot tub, rising to his knees and turning away from them. The water sloshed around his thick thighs as he positioned himself, hands gripping the edge of the tub - presenting his backside in full display.

"This," Robert said, glancing over his shoulder with a mischievous glint in his eyes, "is yours to enjoy. Anytime you fancy a go."

Tom's mouth went dry at the sight. Robert's ass was magnificent – full, round, and dusted with small dark hairs. The water beaded on his skin, highlighting every curve and dimple.

Jonathan was already moving, shifting through the bubbling water like a shark. "Don't mind if I do," he murmured, positioning himself behind Robert's left cheek while gesturing Tom toward the right.

Tom didn't need to be told twice. He moved through the water, his fatigue ebbing at the sight before him. Together, he and Jonathan pressed their lips to Robert's ass cheeks, planting reverent kisses on the wet skin.

"Fucking hell," Robert groaned, his head dropping forward as both men worshipped his backside.

Jonathan's hand slid up Robert's thigh, fingers tracing the crease where ass met leg. "I've been wanting to get my hands on this since I first saw you walking around the pool," he admitted, his voice husky as he nipped gently at the flesh beneath his lips.

Tom hummed in agreement, his own hands exploring the firm muscle of Robert's right cheek. "It's even better than I imagined," he said, growing bolder as he spread Robert slightly, revealing the dark crevice between.

Robert's breath hitched as Tom's fingers tentatively traced along his crack, exploring the sensitive skin there. Jonathan followed Tom's lead, his more experienced touch delving deeper, brushing against Robert's entrance which twitched.

"Christ," Robert hissed, his back arching slightly as both men explored him. "That feels amazing."

Tom felt emboldened by Robert's reaction. He leaned forward, pressing his face against the curve of Robert's ass. His tongue darted out, tasting the wet skin, tracing a path toward the centre.

Jonathan caught Tom's eye over the curve of Robert's back, a wicked grin spreading across his face as they worked in tandem, teasing and exploring.

"As much as I'm enjoying this," Robert said, his voice strained with pleasure but stopping things before they went too far, "I think we should move this to the showers. The water's getting a bit cool, and I'd love to feel both your hands on me with some proper soap."

Jonathan pressed one last kiss to Robert's left cheek before pulling back. "Shower sounds perfect," he agreed. "I want to see every inch of you properly lathered up."

They climbed out of the hot tub, water streaming down their bodies as they made their way to the spacious shower area, Jonathan dipping into his locker to grab a bottle of body wash.

Robert turned on three showers, adjusting the temperature and showerhead direction towards the middle as steam began to rise.

"Come here," he said, beckoning them both under the spray.

Tom stepped into the warm cascade, sighing as the water hit his skin and cascaded over his body, washing away everything. He turned his face up into the spray, letting it sluice down his neck and chest. The sensation was heavenly.

Everyone rinsed off thoroughly, and soon they gravitated towards each other with Robert in the middle, Tom in front of him and Jonathan behind. "Let us take care of you," Jonathan said to Robert, his voice gentle.

Robert's eyes closed, his jaw working as he fought for control. A tremor ran through his frame, which both men immediately picked up.

"Hey... You okay?" Tom asked, his hands resting on Robert's chest.

Robert nodded, but there was a tightness around his eyes, a tension in his jaw that hadn't been there before. "It's just..." he started, then stopped, swallowing hard. "Been a long time since anyone really looked at me like this. Saw all of me and never with the looks I get from you two."

Tom's heart clenched at the admission. He reached up, cupping Robert's bearded cheek in his palm. "We see you, Rob" he said simply. "All of you."

Behind Robert, Jonathan's arms came around his waist, his cheek pressed against the larger man's back. "And we like what we see," he added, his voice soft but firm. "Every part... let us show you how much."

Slowly, Robert’s jaw relaxed, and he nodded.

Jonathan uncapped the body wash and poured a generous amount into his palm before passing the bottle to Tom. The scent of sandalwood filled the steamy air as Tom squeezed a dollop into his own hand.

Tom stepped forward. Despite their intimacy so far, there was something different about this - something more tender and deliberate than the frantic coupling they'd been sharing.

"Is this okay?" Tom asked, holding up his soap-slicked hands.

Robert nodded, his eyes watching Tom with an intensity that made his stomach flip. "More than okay," he said, his voice rough.

Tom reached out, pressing his palms against Robert's chest. The coarse hair there flattened under his touch as he began to spread the soap in slow, deliberate circles. The texture fascinated him - so different from his own smooth skin, so masculine and earthy.

Behind Robert, Jonathan had begun working on his broad back, hands sliding over the powerful muscles with obvious appreciation. Tom could see Jonathan's fingers digging into the flesh, working out knots Robert hadn't even realized were there.

"You’re so fit," Tom murmured, his hands moving lower to trace the ridges of Robert's abs and obliques. The soap made his skin slippery, highlighting every curve and dip of muscle.

Robert's breathing had deepened, his chest rising and falling beneath all the exploring hands. Tom took his time, mapping every inch of the man's torso - the swell of his pecs, the way his nipples hardened at Tom's touch, the beautiful dips of his abs.

Jonathan's hands had moved to Robert's back. Tom could see his fingers working their way down Robert's spine, following each section with careful attention.

Tom's fingers traced the trail of dark hair that slightly narrowed as it descended past Robert's navel, following it down to where Robert's uncut cock hung heavy between his thighs. Even soft, it was impressive - thick and substantial against Tom's soapy fingers.

"This too?" Tom asked, glancing up to find Robert watching him, his expression unreadable.

"If you want," Robert said, his voice strained.

Tom wrapped his hand around the dark brown skin of the shaft, feeling it twitch at his touch. He worked the soap along its length, fascinated by how it filled his hand. His fingers pulled back the foreskin, getting the soap around the head to gently wash away anything from their prior frantic activity.

"Christ," Robert breathed, his head falling back as Tom's hand slid lower to cup his balls, rolling the large hairy orbs gently in his palm.

Tom could feel Robert's cock begin to thicken in his grip. The soap made everything slippery, his fingers gliding easily along the shaft as he worked. He was fascinated by the weight of it, the way the foreskin moved under his touch, how the head gleamed.

Behind Robert, Jonathan's soapy hands had reached the curve of his ass. Tom caught glimpses of Jonathan's fingers tracing the cleft, working soap into every crevice with thorough attention. The larger man's breathing grew more ragged with each passing moment.

"Turn around," Jonathan murmured, his voice thick with desire. "Let Tom have his turn with your back."

They shifted positions, Robert turning to face Jonathan while Tom was now behind him. The view was just as good from this angle - Robert's broad shoulders tapering slightly to a narrow waist, the powerful muscles of his back flexing under the spray which was washing away the suds.

Tom started at Robert's shoulders, fingers exploring the thick muscle there. The man's skin was warm and solid beneath his palms, the feeling quite different from Jonathan's leaner frame.

In front of Robert, Jonathan’s hands were roaming over the man's chest and stomach with obvious appreciation as the soap gave way to what was underneath, both men sharing looks of desire throughout. Tom watched Jonathan's fingers trace patterns through the dark chest hair and down his stomach.

Jonathan’s fingers slipped lower, gliding over Robert’s belly and down to the base of his cock, which hung heavy and at half-mast between his legs. The movement was unhurried as his hand slowly wrapped around the shaft. Jonathan gave it a gentle squeeze, just enough to make Robert gasp and catch his breath, then let it go, only to run his hand up the length - the foreskin bunched and rolled with motion, revealing flashes of the glistening head beneath. His other hand drifted lower, kneading at the furry sac, rolling the balls between his fingers with care.

Tom let his own hands drift down Robert’s back, over the curve of his ass, fingers digging into the muscle there as if to anchor himself to the moment as he saw Jonathan’s hand run the length of the dick for a second time - the appendage thickening and darkening as blood rushed into it.

Jonathan’s eyes never left Robert’s face as the lips parted, tongue slid along his teeth, and his eyes darkened with unmistakable hunger.

"My turn," Robert growled, interrupting before he could get fully hard. He pulled Jonathan up and spun the leaner man around so he was now sandwiched between Tom and Robert.

Jonathan laughed, surprised but clearly delighted by the sudden change. "Bossy, aren't you?"

Robert reached for the gel, squirting a good amount into his palm before passing the bottle back to Tom. "You have no idea," he murmured, his eyes darkening as he brought his soap-slicked hands to Jonathan's chest.

Tom spread the gel across the man's shoulders. His fingertips traced the lean muscles there, so different from Robert's bulk but no less impressive. The definition was remarkable - each muscle group clearly defined beneath smooth skin. Tom worked methodically, admiring how Jonathan's back tapered to a narrow waist, the elegant line of his spine, the subtle play of strength beneath his touch.

Meanwhile, Robert's large hands spread soap across Jonathan's chest, fingers working through the light dusting of hair there, appreciating the longer and softer brown strands compared to his curlier, coarser black ones. His thumbs found Jonathan's nipples, circling them with deliberate pressure.

"This is nice," Jonathan sighed, his head tilting back slightly as four hands worked over his body. "Really nice."

Tom's hands moved lower, exploring the dip of Jonathan's lower back before cupping his ass. The muscles there were tight and firm beneath his palms. Tom kneaded the flesh, growing bolder as Jonathan pushed back into his touch. His soapy fingers dipped between Jonathan's cheeks, exploring the sensitive skin there.

Robert's hands travelled downward, following the narrow trail of hair that led from Jonathan's navel. His fingers traced the defined ridges of Jonathan's abs, leaving suds in their wake. Jonathan's cock stood fully erect now, and Robert wrapped his hand around it, giving it a thorough soaping as he watched Jonathan's face intently.

"Fuck," Jonathan breathed, his eyes closing as Robert's hand worked over him. His hips moved slightly, pushing into Robert's grip.

Tom's fingers continued their exploration, one digit pressing gently against Jonathan's entrance. The touch drew another moan from Jonathan, his body caught between Tom's probing fingers and Robert's skilled hand. Neither was fast; both were just enjoying the sensations as opposed to trying to get the middle man off.

"Turn," Robert instructed after a minute, his voice husky.

Jonathan complied, turning so that Tom now faced his chest while Robert moved behind him. Tom's hands immediately went to Jonathan's pecs, fingers splaying across the skin as the soap washed away. He traced the hair there, quite different from Robert's thicker and more uniform covering. His thumbs found Jonathan's nipples, mimicking what Robert had done earlier.

Robert's hands worked across Jonathan's back, massaging the muscles with firm pressure, undoing knots with practised ease.

The energy between them had shifted slightly - still charged with desire but a little less frantic now, more deliberate.

Tom's gaze drifted downward, following the trail of hair that led to Jonathan's cock, hard and glistening under the shower spray. Without thinking, he dropped to his knees, bringing himself face-to-face with the impressive length. Water cascaded over his head as he reached out, wrapping his fingers around Jonathan's shaft.

"God, look at it," Tom murmured, his voice almost reverent as he examined every detail. The contrast fascinated him - how the pale skin of the shaft transitioned to a deep, almost plum-coloured head. He ran his thumb over the glans, watching as it twitched under his touch. "I've never seen one quite this colour before. It's beautiful."

Jonathan's breath hitched above him. "Careful there," he warned, his voice strained. "Still sensitive from earlier."

Robert joined Tom on his knees, his large hands coming to rest on Jonathan's thighs, kneading the taut muscles there. "He's right," Robert said, his dark eyes fixed on Jonathan's cock as Tom held it. "That colour is fucking gorgeous against your skin." His fingers moved upward, massaging the firm curve of Jonathan's ass. "I love how dark the head gets when you're turned on."

Jonathan's breath caught as Tom's fingers explored him with deliberate curiosity, carefully pulling back the foreskin to fully expose the head. "Always been that way," he managed, his voice tight. "Gets deep purple when I'm worked up... like now for instance."

Tom let himself get swept up in his usual urge to please. He pressed a soft kiss to the swollen tip, savouring the salt and warmth of skin there before flicking his tongue across the slit. For a moment, he just enjoyed the feel of the ridged corona against his lips, before opening and letting the head slip into his mouth. Jonathan swore under his breath - a sharp, involuntary "Shit," that made Tom feel reckless.

Tom swirled his tongue around the sensitive crown, letting the foreskin slip forward and back as he teased. He risked a glance up and saw the man staring down at him, jaw tight, eyes glazed with craving. He hollowed his cheeks and sucked gently, feeling the slick skin stretch and flex in his mouth, the head getting so hot as it engorged even more. He ran his tongue along the underside, then pulled off with a wet pop, leaving the cock wet and flushed.

Tom planted one last kiss on it before letting it bounce back toward Jonathan's stomach.

Jonathan reached down, brushing a wet lock of hair from Tom's forehead. "Your turn now, Tom," he said, voice softer but still edged with anticipation.

Tom felt a flutter of anticipation as he stood up and settled between both men.

Robert stepped forward first, his large hands cupping Tom's face with surprising gentleness. His thumbs traced Tom's cheekbones before sliding down to his shoulders. Jonathan moved behind him, hands settling on Tom's hips.

"Let us worship you now," Robert murmured, his voice a low rumble that Tom felt more than heard.

Tom closed his eyes as four hands began to work over his body, spreading soap across his smooth skin with careful attention. Robert's larger hands worked across his chest and shoulders, while Jonathan's more nimble fingers traced patterns down his back.

"So smooth," Robert murmured, his large hands sliding down Tom's chest. "Like polished marble."

Tom felt his skin warm under the appreciative touch. Robert's fingers traced the defined lines of his pectorals with obvious fascination.

"Years of gymnastics training," Tom explained, watching Robert's expression. "Keeps everything functional rather than just for show."

Jonathan's hands glided over Tom's shoulders from behind, fingers tracing the subtle ridges of muscle there. "You can tell. It's all purposeful. No vanity muscles."

Robert's thumbs brushed across Tom's nipples, making him gasp. They were larger than average, with wide areolas that pebbled instantly under the attention.

"These are gorgeous," Robert said, circling them with his thumbs. "So responsive." He leaned closer, his breath hot against Tom's ear. "I love how they stand out against your chest."

Tom felt his nipples harden further under Robert's ministrations, a direct line of pleasure connecting them to his groin. He'd always been sensitive there, but no one had ever paid them such focused attention.

"Do you like having them played with?" Robert asked, pinching one gently between thumb and forefinger as the water washed them clean of soap.

"Y-yes," Tom managed, his voice catching as Robert rolled the sensitive nub. "Very much."

Robert's eyes darkened, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he studied Tom's hardened nipples. "Can I have a real taste now? If that's okay?"

Tom nodded, his throat suddenly too dry for words. The anticipation of Robert's mouth on him sent a shiver down his spine that had nothing to do with the water temperature.

Robert didn't hesitate. He leaned down, his beard scratching deliciously against Tom's skin as his lips closed around the left nipple. The wet heat of his mouth sent a jolt of pleasure straight to Tom's groin. Robert's tongue swirled around the sensitive bud, teeth grazing just enough to make Tom gasp.

"Fuck," Tom breathed, his hand instinctively coming up to cradle the back of Robert's head, fingers threading through the wet hair.

Robert hummed against his chest, the vibration adding another layer of sensation as he sucked harder. His beard scratched against Tom's skin, the contrast between soft lips and rough hair making Tom's toes curl against the shower floor. Robert's teeth closed gently around the nipple, tugging just enough to send sparks of pleasure-pain racing through Tom's body.

Behind him, Jonathan's hands slid lower, cupping Tom's ass cheeks and kneading the firm muscle there. His fingers dug into the flesh, spreading him slightly as Robert continued his relentless attention to Tom's chest.

Tom's cock hardened fully between them, the sensitivity of his nipples directly connected to his groin. Robert alternated between gentle licks and firmer suction that had Tom's hips jerking forward involuntarily.

Jonathan pressed closer behind him, his own erection occasionally poking Tom's ass as his hands continued their exploration. "Look at you," Jonathan murmured, his breath hot against Tom's ear. "Getting so hard just from having your tits played with."

The words sent another rush of blood to Tom's cock. He could feel Jonathan watching over his shoulder, observing Robert's mouth working his nipple with obvious hunger.

Robert released the left nipple with a wet pop; the air hit the sensitised flesh, making Tom hiss. Robert didn't give him time to recover before moving to the right side, his mouth closing around the neglected right nipple with renewed enthusiasm.

"Oh god," Tom moaned, his head falling back against Jonathan's shoulder as Robert's tongue flicked rapidly over the hardened bud. The sensation was almost too much, bordering on overwhelming as Robert sucked harder, teeth scraping gently.

Jonathan's grip on his ass tightened, fingers dipping between his cheeks to brush teasingly against his hole, still sensitive from earlier. The combination of sensations – Robert's mouth on his chest, Jonathan's fingers exploring his ass – had Tom’s cock twitching and aching between them.

Robert pulled back slightly, his dark eyes meeting Tom's as he blew cool air across the wet, sensitive nipple. "These are fucking perfect," he said, voice rough with desire. "Could spend hours just on these alone."

Tom's cock throbbed at the words, pre-cum beading at the tip. Jonathan's own erection was hitting his back, while Robert's had risen to full hardness between his legs.

Tom's breath caught as Robert leaned in once more, this time simply pressing a tender kiss to each sensitised nipple. The gentleness after such intensity made his heart stutter in his chest.

Jonathan's fingers traced the cleft of Tom's ass, gently probing the sensitive flesh. "Still sore?" he murmured against Tom's ear.

"Only a little" said Tom. The slight ache from earlier had mellowed into a pleasant reminder of what they'd shared.

"Let me handle that," Jonathan said, reaching for the soap again.

Tom felt Jonathan's slick fingers return to his ass, gently cleaning him with careful attention in an intimate gesture. Meanwhile, Tom watched as Robert's hair-dusted, olive-skinned forearms and hand moved against his own pale, hairless skin down his abs and took hold of his rock-hard cock.

"Look at this," Robert said, his voice dropping as he kneeled before Tom, "so pale, with this perfect pink head."

Tom felt his face flush at the intimate praise. He’d always been self-conscious about his dick: not quite as impressive as some, but not small, either.

Maybe sensing that, Robert said, "This is pretty enough to hang in a museum".

"I can’t get enough of him," Jonathan said.

"Same here", Robert replied as he leaned forward and kissed that pink head, giving it a quick lick before putting some soap on it and then rinsing away the evidence of their earlier activities with meticulous attention.

"Switch," Robert murmured, his large hands turning Tom to face Jonathan.

Jonathan was waiting, eyes dark with hunger, lips curved in a smile that made Tom's stomach flip. Without a word, Jonathan dropped to his knees, water cascading over his shoulders as he brought himself face-to-face with Tom's straining erection.

"Hello there," Jonathan said, his voice playfully talking to the dick as he wrapped his fingers around Tom's shaft. "Missed me?"

Tom couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up, even as his cock twitched eagerly in Jonathan's grip. "It's only been about an hour."

"Far too long," Jonathan replied, his thumb circling the sensitive head. "Look how pretty you are, all flushed and ready again."

The casual praise sent heat racing up Tom's spine. He watched, transfixed, as Jonathan's tongue darted out to taste the pre-cum beading at his tip. The wet heat of Jonathan's tongue felt so nice.

Robert, meanwhile, was standing up again behind Tom, massaging his back and working out the knots.

Tom leaned back into him, the pair sharing a kiss while Jonathan slipped Tom’s pink head into his mouth, deliberately licking it all around like a tasty treat.

Tom gasped at the dual sensations - Robert's lips on his while Jonathan's mouth worked his cock. Tom’s tongue tangled with Robert's as the man's strong hands massaged his shoulders, working out tension he hadn't even realised was there.

When they broke apart, Tom let his head fall back against Robert's chest, watching Jonathan through half-lidded eyes. The sight was incredible - Jonathan on his knees, water streaming down his lean body as he worked Tom's cock with obvious enthusiasm.

"Feels good," Tom murmured, his voice barely audible over the steady patter of the shower. His fingers threaded through Jonathan's wet hair.

Jonathan hummed in acknowledgment, the vibration sending a pleasant shiver up Tom's spine. He pulled off, looking up at Tom with a wicked smile. "Just making sure you're all clean," he said, his voice playful.

Robert's laughter rumbled through his chest against Tom's back. "Very thorough job you're doing there, mate."

Jonathan winked, his hand still lazily stroking Tom's shaft. "I believe in being meticulous."

The water continued to cascade over them, steam filling the shower area as they took their time exploring each other. Tom's urgency had mellowed into a languid appreciation, his body responding to their touches with lazy pleasure rather than desperate need.

Eventually, Robert reached past Tom to turn off the showers. The sudden absence of the rushing water made the air feel cooler against Tom's skin, and he shivered slightly as the last droplets trickled down his body.

"We should probably get dried off," Robert said, his voice echoing in the tiled space. "I've got plenty of towels."

Tom nodded, reluctantly stepping away from the warmth of the other men's bodies. His muscles felt pleasantly loose, the hot water and their attentive hands having worked out all the tension from earlier.

Robert disappeared around the corner and returned with an armful of fluffy white towels. He handed one to each of them before drying his hair, back and chest quickly and then wrapping it around his waist, the fabric barely containing his substantial frame as he quickly slipped out the change room door. "Back in a minute", he yelled.

Tom rubbed the towel over his hair first, trying to get the worst of the moisture out. The fabric was softer than he expected, probably staff towels. He caught Jonathan watching him with a small smile as he dried himself.

"What?" Tom asked, pausing with the towel halfway down his chest.

"Nothing," Jonathan replied, his smile widening. "Just enjoying the view."

Tom felt heat creep up his neck that had nothing to do with the hot shower they'd just shared. He continued to dry himself with perhaps more thoroughness than necessary.

Robert returned, towel slung low on his hips. He had gathered their discarded Speedos from where they'd left them by the pool, and brought his own street wear in from the office. Putting the latter aside, he gave the Speedos back to their respective owners.

"I should probably get dressed," Tom said reluctantly, glancing at the clock on the wall. "I've got that fitting, and I need to head back to my hotel first."

"Right," Jonathan nodded, towelling off his own hair. "Duty calls."

Tom wrapped his towel around his waist and walked over to his locker, pulling out his clothes. He laid them out on the bench, suddenly aware of how mundane they seemed after everything that had happened today.

"So," he said, turning back to face the other two, "What are you two gonna get up to after I’m gone?"

Robert ran a hand through his damp hair, pushing it back from his forehead. "We've got a bit of a mess to clean up, to be honest. Towels to wash, surfaces to wipe down..."

"Don't forget all the dried cum we've left all over the place," Jonathan added with a grin, leaning against a locker not far from Robert - both men now with the towels wrapped around their waist. "Can't leave that for the poor cleaning staff to find."

Tom laughed, the sound bouncing off the tiled walls. "God, we really did make a mess, didn't we?"

"Worth every second," Robert said, his voice dropping to that deep rumble that made Tom's stomach flip.

Tom reached for his briefs, still a bit damp from their earlier adventures. He held them up, the deep purple fabric vibrant against his pale fingers.

"Those are nice," Robert said, his eyes darkening with interest as he leaned back against the lockers. "They suit you."

Tom felt a flutter of pleasure at the compliment. With a playful smile, he turned his back to them, bending slightly at the waist as he stepped into the briefs. He took his time pulling them up, deliberately letting the fabric catch on his thighs, aware of the two sets of eyes tracking his every movement.

"These were a gift," Tom said, glancing over his shoulder as he adjusted the waistband, making sure it sat just right on his hips. "From a stylist who said purple was my colour."

"Smart stylist," Jonathan murmured, his gaze openly appreciative as Tom turned to face them. The briefs hugged Tom's package, the slightly damp skin beneath making the fabric cling just enough that it left little to the imagination.

Tom reached for his jeans next, but paused, struck by the tableau before him - Jonathan and Robert standing side by side, towels around their waists, bodies still slightly damp. They were quite differently built, yet something about seeing them together felt right in a way he couldn't quite articulate.

"What?" Robert asked, noticing Tom's thoughtful expression.

"Just thinking," Tom said, fingers playing with the waistband of his briefs, "about how different we all are. Physically, I mean. It's like we complement each other perfectly," Tom continued, stepping into his jeans and pulling them up with deliberate slowness. "Like puzzle pieces that shouldn't fit but somehow do."

Robert's eyes followed Tom's hands as he fastened his jeans. "I was thinking the same thing earlier," he admitted. "How well we fit together, in every sense."

Tom reached for his shirt, pulling it over his head, the fabric momentarily obscuring his view of the other men. When his head emerged, he found both watching him with matching expressions of endearment.

"What is it about being watched getting dressed that feels more intimate than being watched naked?" Tom asked, smoothing the shirt down his torso.

"Nudity is just a state of being," Robert replied, his voice thoughtful. "Choosing how to cover yourself - that shows something about who you are."

Jonathan nodded in agreement. "It's like watching someone put their armour back on, piece by piece."

Tom pulls his bag out of his locker, then sits down on the bench in front of them, looking up and smiling as he puts on his shoes.

"What are you thinking about now?" Jonathan asked, catching Tom's gaze.

Tom was unable to hide the happiness bubbling up inside him. "Just that I'm the luckiest fucker I know right now."

Robert's laugh was deep and warm. "That makes three of us, then."

Tom found himself reluctant to leave, even as he checked the time and realised he needed to get going.

Tom pulled out his phone, suddenly remembering the world outside the pool existed. "I should probably get an Uber," he said, opening the app and putting in his hotel address as the destination.

"How long will it take?" Jonathan asked, still leaning against the locker, towel slung low on his hips.

Tom glanced at the screen. "Says eight minutes." He slipped the phone into his pocket and stood, shouldering his bag. The thought of leaving this bubble they'd created made his chest tighten.

"Eight minutes," Robert repeated, a small smile playing at his lips. "Just enough time to say a proper goodbye."

Tom stepped forward, drawn to Robert first. The big man’s towel was half-untucked, showing a dark streak of happy trail angling up his abdomen.

Robert didn’t hesitate, spreading his arms and welcoming Tom in - crushing him to his chest with a contented sigh.

Tom’s face pressed into the warm, soft expanse of Robert’s chest, and for a long moment, he just breathed him in: the scent of body wash mixed with something musky. Robert’s arms were heavy and certain around Tom’s back, hands finding their places by instinct - cradling him like a dad might hold his son after a nightmare. Tom let himself go limp for a second, surrendering to being held.

"Thank you," Tom whispered, not even really sure what the gratitude was for. He wouldn’t have been able to put it in words: for being gentle, for being rough, for making him feel so fucking wanted and safe at the same time. The phrase just fell out of him, soft and urgent.

Robert gave a low, amused grunt and squeezed him tighter, enough to rob some of Tom’s breath. "No need to thank me," he said, his voice all gentle rumble, beard scratching the top of Tom’s ear as he spoke. "We’re not even close to done with you."

Tom’s cheeks went hot, but he didn’t look away, just kept his head tucked in the hollow of Robert’s neck. Robert pressed a kiss against his temple—firm, deliberate, a punctuation mark at the end of the sentence. The contact sent a shudder down Tom’s spine, a little spark of heat that made him shiver.

He wanted to stay there, just like that, forever. But there was movement at his periphery; Jonathan was already reaching for him, smiling that foxish smile. Tom hesitated, torn between the two, but Robert made the choice for him by giving a final squeeze and then letting his arms fall away, like he was sending Tom off at an airport gate.

Jonathan’s approach was all kinetic energy, the opposite of Robert’s gravity. He wrapped Tom in a tangle of limbs, towel and all, and Tom could feel the steadiness of Jonathan’s heartbeat through his sternum. Jonathan’s hands gripped Tom’s back, fingers digging in, not tentative at all—he held on like he was afraid Tom might get away.

"Fuck, I don’t want to wait till tonight," Jonathan said into Tom’s ear, half-laughing, half-sighing. His hair was still wet, and it sent icy drips down the inside of Tom’s collar, but he didn’t care. Jonathan’s lips found the curve of Tom’s jaw, then the corner of his mouth, searing a quick kiss there before moving upward to his forehead. Tom wanted to laugh at the reversal—earlier, he’d been the one in control, lavishing affection, and now he was on the receiving end, a bundle of nerves and gratitude.

He returned the hug, fiercely, feeling Jonathan’s ribcage under his arms. "I’ll be back," Tom promised, voice hoarse.

Jonathan snorted, sounding almost petulant. "Damn right you will be." He pulled back enough to look Tom in the eye, his hands still on Tom’s shoulders. "Got a dinner plan for you, mate. Robert’s gonna cook. I’ll make drinks if we can get to the shops before they close."

"Sounds brilliant," Tom said, already dizzy with anticipation, already running through how he’d explain taking the night off to his agent.

Robert cleared his throat from the other side of the bench, grinning in that quiet way of his. "We’ll see you around seven, then."

"See you soon," he said, backing away from the still-clingy Jonathan, who let go reluctantly.

There was a moment where all three were silent, just looking at one another, the air thick with possibility. Tom wanted to bottle the feeling, the heavy and electric promise of it. He started to turn for the exit, bag slung over his shoulder, but Jonathan couldn’t resist one last parting gesture... he reached out and smacked Tom’s ass, a sharp, affectionate pop right over the damp denim.

Tom squeaked, spun around, and shot Jonathan a scandalised look.

"Just making sure you come back," Jonathan said, entirely unrepentant.

Robert laughed, deep and honest. "We’ll be waiting," he said, and Tom could see the truth of it in the way they both watched him go.

He stepped back, feeling oddly sad without their touch. His phone buzzed in his pocket – likely the car arriving. "Bye, boys, if you get up to any trouble... I’ll want details", he said, winking as he walked to the locker room entrance and headed out.

Crossing the centre, Tom stepped through the exit doors - the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the pavement. The light felt different somehow, warmer.

He paused, turning to look back at the building. From the outside, the place was nothing special - just another municipal building with its brutalist architecture and faded signage. Yet behind those walls, his life had just changed completely.

His Uber pulled up at the kerb, but Tom found himself lingering, not quite ready to leave. Through the glass doors, he could see the reception area where he'd first arrived this morning, nervous about a simple swim certification. Had that really been just six or so hours ago? It felt like days.

A smile tugged at his lips as his gaze drifted to the pool. His body still hummed with pleasant soreness, a physical reminder of everything that had happened. The changing room where Jonathan and he finally hooked up, the main pool area where Robert had first approached him in those green Speedos. The office where they'd first explored each other, the talk in the cafeteria, the fucking again in the pool, the hot tub and then the shower where they'd washed each other with such tenderness.

Tom's chest tightened with an emotion he knew exactly what it was, but wasn’t quite ready to say it out loud. It was too soon, too new - and yet it felt inevitable. He thought of Robert's dark and intense eyes, his big white teeth, impudent smile and gentle hands; of Jonathan's naughty grin, playful touch and boundless energy. How quickly they'd gone from strangers to... whatever they were now. Something that felt dangerously close to essential.

His phone buzzed again - the Uber driver getting impatient. Tom sighed, knowing he couldn't delay any longer. But as he turned to leave, he couldn't help wondering what Robert and Jonathan might be doing right now. Were they getting dressed? Or were their hands wandering and mouths exploring?

The thought sent a fresh wave of heat through his body. God, he hoped they weren't holding back on his account. The idea of them together, Robert's powerful body pressing Jonathan against the lockers, or Jonathan on his knees before Robert - it made his breath catch. He wanted to hear every detail.

Tom slid into the back seat of the car, giving the driver a distracted smile as he settled in and then watched the facility recede in the window. It looked so ordinary, giving no hint of the extraordinary things that had happened within its walls and how three lives had just collided in an unexpected and perfect way.

He let his eyes close for a moment and sighed.

Chapter 7: Break Me, Mr. Bailey

Summary:

After Tom leaves, Robert and Jonathan have an incredibly intense round of sex and then clean up the aquatic centre and head to Robert's temporary residence to prepare dinner. They discuss their feelings about the developing relationship and experience moments of vulnerability with each other as a reunion with Tom leads to the trio admitting their true feelings.

Robert listened as Tom’s footsteps receded, and he heard the distant entry door open and shut, a slight hollowness settling in his chest. The sound of Tom disappearing felt more significant than it should have after knowing him for only a few hours.

"Cleanup time, I suppose," Robert said, turning back to Jonathan, who leaned back against the lockers with that towel barely staying up on his hips.

Jonathan nodded, but made no move toward getting dressed. Instead, he was studying Robert with an expression that made something tighten in Robert's stomach.

"What?" Robert asked.

"Miss him already," Jonathan said, more of a statement than a question.

Robert paused, his large hand rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah. Yeah, I do." The admission felt both ridiculous and completely natural. He caught himself and let out a self-deprecating laugh. "I sound like a fucking lovesick teenager."

A memory surfaced. He was 16, mooning over his father's friend - a young, muscular 29-year-old pilot hotshot named Mark Harlow. Classic Captain America type - all good looks and muscle vs. Robert, a tall but skinny half-black/half-white kid with a British accent and not many friends his age because he moved around so much between the US, UK and Germany.

Still, he was mostly used to dealing with adults, always trying to show off for them growing up. It was partly why he became a performer in the first place, jumping between acting, music and comedy. Robert had followed Mark around during his last Summer in Southern California with his dad, and one night while his parents were out, the man showed him a naughty DVD before the pair then fucked on the living room floor.

"What's that smile about?" Jonathan asked, interrupting his thoughts.

Robert shook his head. "Just remembering the first time I felt... smitten. My dad's mate. Pilot. Gorgeous man. Ended up being the first man to fuck me, actually."

Jonathan's eyes widened with interest. "Older?"

"I was sixteen, he was twenty-nine. Maybe a bit dodgy, but I knew what I was doing" Robert shrugged. "Haven't thought about him in years."

"I get it," Jonathan said, pushing away from the lockers and stepping closer. "This emptiness when Tom left. I've felt it before, but this..." He gestured between them. "This goes beyond being smitten. I think for all of us."

Robert nodded slowly, the weight of Jonathan's words settling in his chest. "Yeah," he admitted quietly. "It does."

Jonathan was still watching him, eyes travelling from Robert's face down his chest to where the towel hung precariously on his hips, then back up again. The hunger in that gaze was unmistakable, and Robert felt his skin warm under the scrutiny. His towel twitched as blood began to flow southward.

"Jonathan," Robert said, slipping into an exaggerated Cockney accent as he cocked his head and smiled, "what ya lookin' at?"

Jonathan's giggle echoed off the tiled walls. "Just admiring the view... Can you blame me?"

Robert's breath caught as Jonathan's hand rested on his own chest as he looked across at Robert.

"Not at all," Robert murmured, his own hand coming up and going behind his head, showing off his furry armpit to the other man, who chewed on his lower lip.

"I was thinking," Jonathan said, stepping closer. "About what Tom said. How we fit together like puzzle pieces."

Robert felt his pulse quicken as Jonathan approached and stood directly in front of him. "Johnnie," he started, but the name died in his throat as Jonathan's fingers traced along the edge of his towel.

"I know we said we needed a break," Jonathan murmured, his voice dropping to that husky register that made Robert's cock pulse despite his overall exhaustion. "But I can't stop thinking about what it felt like when you were inside me, and what it would feel like reversed - for me to be inside you."

The image hit Robert like a physical blow - himself straddling Jonathan on the narrow bench, thighs spread wide as he impaled himself on that thick, purple-headed cock, riding it with abandon while Jonathan's hands gripped his hips. Or the alternative - face down on the bench, Jonathan's weight pressing him down as that impressive length drove into him again and again.

Robert’s breath caught in his throat as the image went straight to his groin. His towel had already started to slip with every self-conscious twitch of his hips, but now the movement was enough to jar the terrycloth, which fell away in a soft, deliberate rush. Robert barely registered the sound - only the abrupt freedom at his groin, the cool air against the length of his rapidly engorging cock. The thrill of being watched like this shot straight through Robert’s core and made his dick harden all the faster.

Jonathan’s gaze dropped instantly, hungrily, to track the motion. Robert’s cock thickened to full mast, framed by the wiry darkness of his pubic hair and pulsing in time with Jonathan’s stare. "I'll take that as confirmation of interest," he said, voice rough as he let his own towel fall away. His cock was already half-hard, darkening rapidly as blood rushed to fill it.

Robert swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. "I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about it," he admitted, taking a step closer. "Having you inside me."

Jonathan closed the remaining distance between them, his hand cupping Robert's bearded jaw. "Tell me what you're imagining," he murmured, thumb tracing Robert's lower lip.

"You fucking me," Robert said bluntly, his voice dropping to a growl. "Me riding you until neither of us can walk straight. You bending me over and making me take every inch." His cock throbbed between them, a bead of pre-cum forming at the tip. "I want to feel what Tom felt - that stretch deep in me."

Jonathan's breath hitched, his pupils dilating until his eyes were nearly black. "Christ, Rob," he whispered, leaning in until their foreheads touched. "Do you have any idea what hearing you say that does to me?"

Robert's large hands settled on Jonathan's hips, pulling him closer until their erections brushed against each other. The contact sent electricity racing up his spine, his cock twitching eagerly.

"I think I have some idea," he murmured, grinding slightly against the other man.

Jonathan's lips found his, the kiss immediately deep and hungry.

Robert groaned into his mouth, one hand sliding up to tangle in Jonathan's hair. Even though it was familiar now, the taste of him was still so intoxicating.

When they broke apart, both were breathing heavily, their cocks fully hard and leaking between them.

"We shouldn't," Jonathan said, even as his hands explored the broad expanse of Robert's chest, fingers threading through the dark hair there. "We should save up for tonight."

"We should," Robert agreed, his voice strained as Jonathan's thumb brushed across his nipple. His cock jerked in response, another drop of pre-cum sliding down the shaft. "But fuck, I want you so badly."

Jonathan's eyes fluttered closed for a moment, his forehead pressing harder against Robert's. "I want you too," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Been thinking about being inside you the first time you squatted by the pool."

Robert let out a shaky laugh, his hands tightening on Jonathan's hips. "I've been thinking about it since I saw that monster between your legs," he confessed. "I’m normally a top, but I ‘ve been wondering what it would feel like to be stretched around it."

"Jesus," Jonathan breathed, his cock twitching visibly at Robert's words. "You can't just say things like that."

"Why not?" Robert challenged, one hand sliding between them to wrap around Jonathan's shaft. The hot, silky weight of it filled his palm, and he gave it a slow, deliberate stroke from base to tip. "When it's the truth?"

Jonathan's hips bucked into the touch, a groan escaping his lips. "Because if you keep talking like that, I really am going to bend you over that bench and fuck you until you can't remember your own name."

The image sent a fresh wave of desire coursing through Robert. He could almost feel it - Jonathan's weight on top of him, the initial burn as that thick cock breached him, the fullness as Jonathan bottomed out inside him. His hole clenched involuntarily at the thought.

"Maybe I want that," Robert murmured, his thumb circling the slick head of Jonathan's cock, spreading the pre-cum gathering there. "Maybe I want you to fuck me so hard I feel it for a week."

Jonathan surged forward, capturing Robert's mouth in another bruising kiss. Their tongues tangled, teeth clashing in their urgency. Robert felt himself being walked backward until his back hit the lockers, the cool metal a stark contrast to the heat of Jonathan's body pressed against his front.

Jonathan's hand found Robert's cock, gripping it firmly as they continued to kiss. His thumb swept over the sensitive head, gathering the wetness there and using it to ease his strokes. Robert groaned into his mouth, his hips thrusting into the touch.

"This big fuckstick," Jonathan murmured against his lips. "Keep thinking about how it felt inside me, splitting me open. Want to do the same to you."

Robert's cock throbbed in Jonathan's grip. "Yes," he hissed, his head falling back against the lockers with a dull thud. "Fuck, yes."

Jonathan's mouth trailed down Robert's neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin there as his hand continued its maddening pace on Robert's cock. "Want to hear you scream my name," he whispered against Robert's collarbone. "Want to make you cum from just my cock inside you."

"Jonathan," Robert groaned loudly, the words had sent liquid fire through Robert's veins. His hands gripped Jonathan's shoulders, fingers digging into the lean muscle there. "Christ, you're going to make me cum just talking about it."

"Don’t cum yet, babe, not until I’ve had you", said Jonathan, who kept kissing and licking his neck, and was currently lightly nibbling Robert’s Adam’s apple.

Fuck waiting, Robert thought. Fuck holding back. He'd been denying himself for too long. "Fuck it," he growled, pushing away from the lockers. He strode to the nearest bench, his cock bobbing heavily with each step. Without hesitation, Robert lay back on the wooden surface, lifting his legs and spreading them wide, exposing himself completely. "You don't have to go all the way, but please..." his voice cracked with need, "... just stick the tip in at least."

Jonathan froze for a split second, his eyes darkening as he took in the sight before him - all 6’1 of Robert, spread open and waiting - a dark, hairy hole with a hint of pink visible. Then Jonathan was moving, crossing the distance between them in three quick strides.

"It’s never really just the tip, Rob. Are you sure?" Jonathan asked, already climbing onto the bench between Robert's raised legs, his cock jutting forward like a divining rod.

"Never been more sure of anything," Robert replied, his breath coming in short pants now. "Just start slow."

Jonathan nodded, bringing his hand to his mouth. He gathered saliva, letting it pool on his tongue before dribbling it onto his fingers. Robert watched, transfixed, as Jonathan reached down to slick his cock, coating the purple head until it glistened.

The first touch of Jonathan's wet fingers against his entrance made Robert jerk, a gasp escaping his lips. Jonathan worked methodically, circling the tight ring of muscle, spreading the makeshift lubricant around and occasionally pressing just enough to test the resistance.

Robert spat in his own hand and reached for Jonathan’s cock, adding his saliva to the dick, which made Jonathan groan.

Jonathan gathered another mouthful before spitting directly onto Robert's hole and fingering it slightly into the entrance. The warm wetness and probing digits made Robert shiver, his cock twitching against his stomach.

"Ready?" Jonathan asked, positioning the head of his cock against Robert's entrance.

Robert nodded, unable to form words as the blunt pressure increased. He felt his body resist at first, then gradually yield as Jonathan pushed forward with careful determination. The initial stretch burned, a sharp pain that made Robert's breath catch in his throat.

"Breathe," Jonathan murmured, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. "Just breathe through it."

Robert forced himself to inhale deeply, his body gradually relaxing around the intrusion. The burning sensation began to fade, replaced by a strange fullness that sent sparks of pleasure up his spine.

"Just the tip for now," Jonathan said, holding perfectly still as Robert adjusted. "I’m not sure we should go any further; otherwise, I won’t be able to control myself."

Robert reached up, pulling Jonathan down for a kiss. Their lips met in a clash of tongues and teeth, both men breathing heavily as they maintained the delicate connection between their bodies.

Jonathan began to move, tiny thrusts that never pushed deeper than the head of his cock. Each small movement sent ripples of sensation throughout Robert's body.

"Fuck it, I need all of you inside me," Robert growled, his voice thick with desperate need. Without warning, his powerful legs wrapped around Jonathan's waist, heels digging into the small of his back. His strong arms gripped Jonathan's shoulders and with one powerful movement, he pulled Jonathan forward.

Jonathan's cock plunged past the initial resistance, burying itself to the hilt in one brutal thrust. The sudden fullness tore a primal scream from Robert's throat, his back arching off the bench as he forced his body to accommodate Jonathan's entire length in one go.

"Holy fuck!" Jonathan gasped, his body going rigid with shock and pleasure. His hips jerked involuntarily, driving impossibly deeper as Robert's inner walls clenched around him like a vice. "Rob, what the fuck!"

Robert couldn't speak, couldn't think beyond the overwhelming sensation of being completely filled. The burn was exquisite, pain and pleasure blending into something more as Jonathan's cock stretched him wider than he'd been stretched in so long. He felt owned in a way that made his own cock jerk and leak against his stomach.

"Move," he finally managed, the word more growl than speech. "Fucking move, Jonathan."

Jonathan didn't need to be told twice, and he loved seeing the bossy bottom that Robert had turned into. Jonathan pulled back until just the head remained inside, then slammed forward with enough force to make the bench creak beneath them. The impact jolted through Robert's entire body, his prostate lighting up like an Olympic torch as Jonathan's cock dragged across it.

"More!" Robert roared, his fingers digging into Jonathan's flanks. "Again. Harder."

Something wild had awakened in Jonathan's eyes—a feral hunger that matched Robert's own desperation. His hips snapped forward in a punishing rhythm, each thrust driving deeper than the last. The wet slap of skin on skin echoed through the locker room, punctuated by their ragged breathing and half-formed curses.

"Take it," Jonathan snarled, his voice barely recognisable as he hammered into Robert's willing body. "Take every juicy inch of my fucking dick, Rob."

Robert's legs tightened around Jonathan's waist, changing the angle so each thrust hit directly against his prostate. Stars exploded behind his eyelids as pleasure built at the base of his spine, threatening to overwhelm him completely. His cock bobbed untouched between them.

"Never felt anything like this," Jonathan panted, his rhythm faltering slightly as he fought to control his own mounting pleasure.

Robert's hands moved to Jonathan's ass, fingers digging into the firm flesh as he urged him deeper, harder. "Don't you fucking dare hold back," he growled, meeting each thrust with a roll of his hips that had Jonathan gasping. "Breed me like a fucking bitch."

Any of Jonathan's lingering restraint shattered completely. His hips became a blur of motion, driving into Robert with an abandon that bordered on violent. The bench beneath them groaned in protest.

Robert felt a part of his mind fracturing with each devastating thrust. Jonathan's cock seemed to swell even thicker inside him, the purple head battering his prostate with surgical precision. The pleasure was so intense it verged on pain, his entire sympathetic nervous system felt like it was on fire.

"Fuck, don't stop, fuck!" Robert's voice broke as Jonathan pounded him with a relentless rhythm. His cock jerked wildly against his stomach, spurting pre-cum like a fountain as he was ravaged from the inside out - his stomach hair now a mess of slick sweetness.

Jonathan's face was a mask of concentrated fury, sweat beading on his brow as he pistoned into Robert's willing body. His fingers gripped Robert's thighs with bruising force, using the leverage to drive even deeper. The sound of their coupling filled the room – wet, obscene, desperate.

Robert could feel his orgasm building like a freight train, the pressure coiling tighter and tighter in his balls. Jonathan's relentless pace never wavered, each thrust perfectly angled to drag across that bundle of nerves that teared Robert apart.

"Going to cum," Robert gasped, his voice unfamiliarly deep and fiery. "Fuck, you're going to make me cum without touching myself."

Jonathan's eyes blazed with triumph and lust. "Do it," he snarled, somehow finding the strength to pound even harder. "Show me how much of a cumslut you really are."

That filth was Robert's undoing. His back arched impossibly high again as his climax crashed through him like a tidal wave. His cock erupted without a single touch, thick ropes of cum shooting high, painting his neck, beard, chest and stomach as his inner walls clamped down on Jonathan's driving length.

Jonathan let out a strangled cry as Robert's muscles milked his cock. The sensation was too much – the tight heat, the rhythmic clenching, the sight of Robert coming apart beneath him. When he saw Robert’s hand frantically scooping cum from his chest and shoving the fingers in his own mouth to keep his orgasmic high going, Jonathan hit breaking point.

"ROB!" Jonathan yelled, his hips stuttering as he buried himself to the hilt one final time. His cock pulsed inside Robert's still-spasming channel, flooding him with hot spurts of release that seemed to go on forever.

Jonathan lunged forward, smashing his mouth against Robert's. The taste of Robert's release on the man’s tongue flooded his senses - sweet, earthy, unmistakably him. Their tongues tangled frantically, both men panting against each other's lips, their bodies still quivering from the intensity of what they'd just shared.

Robert moaned into Jonathan's mouth, his large hands gripping Jonathan's face as they devoured each other. The endorphins coursing through their systems made everything feel dreamlike, the world beyond this room forgotten.

When they finally broke apart, Jonathan's head was spinning. He pulled out slowly, watching Robert's face contort with the sensation, and then rolled off onto the floor below the man. Jonathan’s legs were unsteady as he crawled around Robert's body on the bench, drawn by some primal instinct he couldn't name.

Jonathan's mouth found Robert's semi-hard cock, wrapping his lips around it and sucking the head gently. The taste of the last traces of cum lingered on his tongue - sweeter than his own, just as he'd noticed earlier. He pulled off, his hands already moving to push Robert's thighs back and apart.

"Wha..." Robert began, but his words dissolved into a shocked yell as Jonathan buried his face between his cheeks.

Jonathan's tongue found Robert's used hole, still slick and puffy from the pounding it had just received. The taste of his own salty release mixed with Robert's musk sent a jolt straight to Jonathan's spent cock. He lapped eagerly, probing the sensitive rim, tasting himself inside Robert.

"Fucking hell!" Robert's entire body shuddered violently, his hands flying down to grip Jonathan's hair. "You wonderful, filthy cum pig fucker!"

The name-calling sent a thrill through Jonathan. He redoubled his efforts, shoving his tongue deeper as he pushed two fingers inside alongside it. The combination had Robert thrashing on the bench, his cock twitching despite his recent orgasm.

"You like me tasting myself inside you?" Jonathan mumbled against the sensitive flesh, working his fingers in and out while his tongue circled the stretched rim.

Robert could only respond with incoherent noises, his thighs trembling as Jonathan kept at it, lost in the filthy intimacy of the act, for nearly a minute before the need to taste more of Robert drove him upward.

He climbed Robert's body slowly, his tongue tracing patterns through the streaks of cum that drenched the dark chest hair over the larger man's torso. The flavour coated his tongue as he licked a path upwards, pausing briefly to suck a hardened nipple into his mouth.

When he reached Robert's face, their eyes locked for a moment- both men's pupils blown wide, Robert watching Jonathan’s lips and mouth glistened with their cum and spit. Robert pulled him down, their mouths meeting in a kiss both filthy and tender at once, pulling back at one point to lick the sweet fluids around the other man’s lips.

Robert's arms wrapped around Jonathan, crushing him against that broad chest as they finally collapsed together, breathing hard. Jonathan's head found the crook of Robert's neck, his lips brushing against the pulse point there as they both slowly regained their composure.

"At this rate, I’ll be ruined by the weekend" Robert's voice was wrecked, barely above a whisper.

"Tell me about it," Jonathan added, his own voice not much steadier.

Robert's chest rumbled with laughter. "Never, never in my life," he said, one large hand coming up to stroke Jonathan's hair, "have I been fucked like that."

Jonathan lifted his head enough to meet Robert's gaze, a smug smile spreading across his face. "You’re most welcome."

Robert's hand tightened in his hair, pulling him down for another kiss that left them both breathless. When they broke apart, Robert's eyes were soft with wonder.

"I've not..." he started, then paused, seeming to search for the right words. "I've not let anyone do that to me before. Not like that."

Jonathan raised an eyebrow quizzically. "What, the rimming?"

"No," Robert said. "I’ve done that before. I mean, letting someone take control like that. Letting myself be that... open."

The weight of what Robert was saying hit Jonathan hard. He propped himself up on one elbow, studying Robert's face with a new understanding. "Thank you," he said simply, the words feeling inadequate for the gift he'd been given.

Robert's smile was small but genuine. "Don't thank me yet. Once I recover and we’re back with Tom tonight, I’m going to be showing you exactly what I learned."

Jonathan laughed, the sound echoing off the tiled walls. "Promises, promises."

They lingered on the bench, a comfortable silence settled between them, interrupted only by their gradually steadying breaths. Robert could feel Jonathan's reassuring heartbeat against his chest. His body still hummed with pleasure, muscles aching in the best possible way.

"We should probably get going," Robert finally said, his voice still rough. "Need to clean up and head to the shops before they close."

Jonathan groaned, burying his face deeper into Robert's neck. "Can't move. You've broken me."

"I've broken you?" Robert laughed, the sound vibrating through both their bodies. "You're the one who just fucked me hard enough to wake the devil."

Jonathan lifted his head, a slow, satisfied grin spreading across his face. "I did, didn't I?"

The pride in Jonathan's words and the cheeky smile made something warm unfurl in Robert's chest.

"By the way, you've got cum in your beard", said Jonathan.

Robert reached up, fingers finding the sticky evidence in his facial hair. "Shit," he muttered, aroused by the filthiness of it all. "We're a mess."

"A beautiful mess," Jonathan corrected.

"Come on," Robert said, patting Jonathan's back. "Up you get. We've got a dinner to prepare for our boy."

Our boy. The words slipped out naturally, and Robert felt no need to take them back. Tom was theirs now, in some indefinable way that had crystallised in the space of a single day.

With a groan, Jonathan pushed himself upright, wincing slightly. "Fuck, my knees. Getting too old for bench sex." Robert watched as Jonathan stood, admiring the lean lines of his body, the way his spent cock hung heavy between his thighs. The man still moved with a dancer's grace.

Robert sat up more slowly, acutely aware of the pleasant soreness between his legs and the sticky mess covering his front.

"Shower. Again," Robert said, swinging his legs over the side of the bench. When he stood, his thighs trembled slightly, and he had to grab the locker for support.

"Come on, big guy," Jonathan said, extending a hand toward him and his voice warm with affection. "Can barely stand, eh?"

"Worth it... But yeah, definitely feeling it," Robert replied, shooting him a grin as he made his way toward the showers on slowly getting steadier legs.

The water felt glorious on his oversensitized skin. Robert closed his eyes as it washed over him. He heard Jonathan step into the adjacent shower, the water hitting the tiles with a familiar patter.

"What are you planning to cook tonight?" Jonathan called over the sound of running water.

Robert considered as he worked shampoo through his hair and beard. "I've got some steaks and sausages in the fridge. Thought I'd do those with a salad, some jacket potatoes and crusty bread. Fairly simple, good for recharging us."

"Sounds good," Jonathan replied. "I'll pick up stuff to drink. Any preferences? I like my gin"

"Rum for me," Robert said, rinsing the suds from his beard. "Some non-alcoholic spritzers for Tom," Robert added, aware that the younger man was avoiding alcohol over past issues with drinking. "Sparkling water too, maybe a Bero if you find it."

Jonathan turned to Robert, his hair slicked back and water streaming down his face. "You're sweet, you know that?"

Robert felt his cheeks warm at the unexpected comment. "Just observant."

"Hmm," Jonathan hummed, a knowing smile playing at his lips as his head went back under the stream.

Robert let the water beat down on his shoulders, easing the pleasant ache in his muscles. His mind drifted to Tom – to the way his eyes had lit up when Robert had invited him to dinner, to the slight hesitation before he'd left, like he hadn't wanted to go. The memory sent a warm pulse through Robert's chest that had nothing to do with physical desire.

He finished washing quickly, reluctant to waste more time. He stepped out of the shower and caught sight of his reflection in a mirror – hair dripping, beard still damp, a faint red mark on his neck where Jonathan had gotten carried away. The man looking back at him seemed different somehow – more relaxed and eyes brighter than they'd been in years.

Jonathan turned off his shower and walked up behind him, catching Robert's gaze in the mirror. A slow smile spread across his face.

"I like seeing you like this," Jonathan said, moving to stand beside him.

"Like what?" Robert asked, running a hand through his wet hair.

"Happy," Jonathan replied simply. "You've got this glow about you."

Robert snorted, but couldn't deny the warm feeling spreading through his chest. "That's just the post-orgasm endorphins talking."

"No," Jonathan insisted, his expression suddenly serious. "It's more than that. I've seen plenty of post-fuck faces, and this is different."

Robert turned to face him directly, studying the sincerity in Jonathan's eyes. Something tightened in his throat at what he saw there – the depth of feeling that matched the unfamiliar fullness in his own chest.

"It's him too, isn't it?" Jonathan asked softly. "Not just us. All three of us together."

Robert nodded, not trusting his voice for a moment. Then he admitted, "I’ve never done a three-person arrangement before. It’s... a lot. In a good way, but still."

Jonathan placed a hand on Robert's bare shoulder. "I know what you mean. It's new territory for me, too."

Robert covered Jonathan's hand with his own, squeezing gently.

They walked out to the locker room, still dripping wet, with Robert grabbing two fresh towels for them.

"The washing machine is going to have a lot of work ahead of it this afternoon", said Robert. His muscles ached pleasantly as he patted himself dry, especially the unfamiliar soreness between his legs. Each twinge was a reminder of what had just happened - of Jonathan's cock stretching him open, of the explosive pleasure that had followed.

"You okay?" Jonathan asked, catching Robert's wince as he bent to dry his legs.

"Fine," Robert replied with a grin. "Just... been a while since I've been on the receiving end."

Jonathan's smile was equal parts smug and tender. "Well, you took it like a champ."

"Hardly had a choice with you pounding me like that," Robert said, his cock giving an interested twitch despite his exhaustion.

"Don't act like you didn't love every second," Jonathan countered, wrapping the towel around his waist.

Robert couldn't argue with that. He had loved it - the surrender, the fullness, the way Jonathan had so thoroughly claimed him. It had awakened a hunger in him he'd forgotten existed.

"You know," Robert said, securing his own towel, "I think Tom might enjoy watching that sometime. You fucking me."

Jonathan's eyes darkened at the suggestion. "Fuck, Rob. Are you trying to kill me? I'm already spent."

Robert laughed, the sound echoing off the tiled walls. "Just planning ahead."

Both men started getting dressed, Jonathan getting back into his white shorts, flip flops, and white and navy linen shirt. Robert pulled on a fresh pink t-shirt, navy shorts, and slip-ons.

Jonathan finished buttoning his linen shirt and turned to Robert. "So what's the plan now? We can't leave this place looking like we've been filming a porno in it all afternoon." He grinned, running a hand through his still slightly damp hair.

Robert nodded, mentally cataloguing the various locations they'd left their mark on today. The changing rooms, his office, the pool area—they'd been fairly thorough in christening almost every part of the centre.

"Right. We need to gather all the towels first," Robert said, his mind shifting into practical mode. "Jonathan, can you go around and collect them? There should be some in my office, in here, and probably one or two scattered in the corridors." He gestured vaguely toward the entrance. "Just bring them all back to that red door to the right of the changing room entrance. The laundry is in there.

Jonathan raised an eyebrow. "And what will you be doing while I'm on towel duty?"

"I'll get the cleaning supplies and mop," Robert replied, already moving toward the supply closet. "Trust me, you got the better job. Some of those surfaces need professional attention."

"Fair enough," Jonathan conceded with a laugh. "Though I think the office desk might need to be burned rather than cleaned after what we did to it."

Robert snorted, remembering the mess they'd made. "Just get the towels, Bailey."

"Aye aye, Captain," Jonathan said with a mock salute, then leaned in and pressed a quick kiss on Robert’s lips, grinned and scurried away.

Robert smiled as they got to work.

Ultimately, it took about half an hour of wiping things down, setting off the washer/dryer and locking everything up before the pair made their way to Robert’s car in the parking lot. Another hour went by as they drove, chatted, shopped for the night’s supplies and then arrived at Robert’s temporary residence, which was nicer than Jonathan expected.

"This is your 'temporary residence'?" he asked, eyebrows raised as he took in the ornate doorway. "I'd hate to see what your permanent place looks like."

Robert chuckled, fishing keys from his pocket. "It’s an Airbnb. Compared to London rates, Glasgow is cheap as chips."

The door swung open to reveal a spacious hallway with polished wooden floors and cream walls adorned with framed black and white photographs. The grocery bags rustled in Robert's hands as he stepped aside to let Jonathan enter first.

"After you," he said, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

Jonathan crossed the threshold, immediately enveloped by the warmth of the house. The air had an underlying waft that was distinctly familiar - a warm, masculine scent that had been driving Jonathan wild all day.

"Kitchen's through here," Robert said, leading the way down the hallway. "Make yourself at home."

"This is gorgeous," Jonathan said, wandering toward the kitchen area, which opened off the main living space. The bags of groceries rustled as he set them on the counter, surrounded by gleaming surfaces and high-end appliances.

Robert came in behind him and opened the fridge, rearranging items to make room for their purchases. "Beats a hotel room?"

"I'll say," Jonathan replied, unpacking the drinks and food. The pair spent the next hour talking and preparing the meal. Occasionally, fingers brushed as they worked side by side, each casual touch sending small sparks through their skin.

Robert stepped back to admire their handiwork. The steaks and snags were marinating and ready for closer to when Tom would get there, the potatoes were in the oven for their long and slow cook, and Jonathan was hard at work on the salads.

Robert was prepping the dining table and found some candles in a drawer, though he wasn't sure if that would be too much.

"Think he'll like it?" he asked, gesturing to their preparations.

Jonathan looked up. "He'll love it. Though I'm pretty sure Tom would be happy if we served him beans on toast as long as we cuddled him at the same time."

Robert laughed, the sound filling the room. "Fair point." His phone buzzed in his pocket. He wiped his hands on a kitchen towel before fishing it out, heart quickening when he saw Tom's name on the screen.

"It's Tom," he said, unable to keep the smile from his voice.

Jonathan called out. "What's he say?"

Robert opened the message, warmth spreading through his chest as he read:

**TH: Just finished. Can't stop thinking about you both. What should I bring tonight?**

"He wants to know what to bring," Robert said, thumbing a quick reply:

**RG: Just yourself. We've got everything else covered. Can't wait to see you.**

He hesitated, then added:

**RG: We miss you already.**

It wasn't an exaggeration. The apartment felt different with just the two of them - still good, but incomplete somehow.

"Tell him to bring himself naked," Jonathan suggested with a grin as he finished making the salad

Robert snorted, shaking his head. "I'm not telling him that."

"Coward," Jonathan teased while he cleaned up after his prep work

The phone buzzed again almost immediately:

**TH: Miss you both, too. More than makes sense. See you at 7.**

Robert checked the clock; it was 6 pm. "Want a drink while we wait?"

"God, yes," Jonathan said, already reaching for the gin he'd insisted on buying. "After the day we've had, I think we've earned it."

Robert watched as Jonathan moved with easy confidence around his temporary kitchen, locating glasses and ice as if he'd been here dozens of times before. There was something comforting about how quickly they'd fallen into this domestic rhythm.

"You know," Robert said, accepting the rum and coke Jonathan handed him, "I keep thinking I should feel weirder about all this. About how fast everything's happened."

Jonathan leaned against the counter, gin and tonic in hand, studying Robert over the rim of his glass. "But you don't?"

"No," Robert admitted, swirling the ice in his glass. "That's the strangest part. It feels..."

"Right," Jonathan finished for him, their eyes meeting over their drinks.

Robert nodded, a small smile playing at his lips. "Exactly. Like we've known each other for years instead of hours." Robert took a sip of his drink, letting the sweetness and burn mingle on his tongue.

"Tom said something similar in the locker room." Jonathan set his glass down, fingers tracing patterns in the condensation. "He said it felt like we'd all been circling each other for ages and finally collided."

"Do you think he's nervous?" Robert asked, the question slipping out before he could consider it.

Jonathan's expression softened. "Probably. But in a good way, I think." He took another sip. "He's not the only one, is he?"

Robert let out a small laugh. "That obvious, huh?"

"Only to someone who's feeling the same thing." Jonathan's eyes met his, warm and understanding. "This is... big. For all of us."

Robert nodded, his thumb absently tracing the rim of his glass.

"What are you thinking about?" Jonathan asked.

"Tom," Robert admitted. "The way he looked at me when I was inside him."

Jonathan's breath hitched slightly. "Fuck, that was hot to watch. The way his whole body just... yielded to you."

Robert nodded, taking another sip of his drink to cool the heat rising in his chest. "And the way you took care of him after. Like he was the most precious thing in the world."

Jonathan's eyes softened. "He is, isn't he? Something about him just makes you want to..." He trailed off, searching for the right words.

"Keep him safe," Robert finished. "Even though he's clearly capable of taking care of himself."

"Exactly." Jonathan took another sip of his drink, eyes distant with memory. "By the way, I never expected you to be such a power bottom."

Robert laughed, the sound rumbling through the kitchen. "Neither did I."

"I’m slightly terrified about how we're going to explain to Tom why you're walking a little funny", says Jonathan.

Robert snorted into his drink. "I think he'll figure it out. Boy's not stupid."

They fell into comfortable silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Robert couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this content – this sense of rightness that had settled in his chest. The day had been insane, yet somehow it felt like the most natural progression in the world.

His phone buzzed again, and he glanced down to see another message from Tom:

**TH: Is it weird that I'm nervous? Like a first-date nervous?**

Robert smiled, thumbing a quick reply:

**RG: Not weird at all. We're nervous too. In a good way.**

He showed the message to Jonathan, who nodded in agreement. He hit send, then set his phone aside and took another sip.

"Where are we sleeping tonight?" Jonathan asked, swirling the ice in his glass.

"There's plenty of room. King-sized bed upstairs," Robert replied.

Jonathan's eyebrows raised along with his smile. "All three of us?"

"Sure", Robert shrugged. "Unless you'd prefer separate rooms?"

"Fuck no," Jonathan said quickly, then laughed at his own eagerness. "I want to fall asleep with both of you. Wake up with you, too."

Robert's chest tightened at the image – the three of them tangled together in his bed, Tom's smaller frame nestled between them, Jonathan's arm thrown across them both. It felt right in a way he couldn't articulate.

Robert's phone buzzed again. Tom had sent a photo this time—a selfie taken in what looked like a hotel bathroom mirror. He was freshly showered, hair still damp, wearing a simple white t-shirt that clung to his shoulders. His smile was shy but eager, his eyes bright with anticipation.

**TH: On my way. See you in half an hour**

Robert turned the phone so Jonathan could see, watching as the man's expression softened.

"God, he's beautiful," Jonathan murmured, taking the phone for a closer look. "Even just like this. Simple t-shirt, wet hair..."

"I know," Robert agreed, feeling giddy at the thought of Tom heading toward them right now. "He doesn't even realise how gorgeous he is."

"Thirty minutes. Just enough time to set up the bedroom, finish our drinks and get the rest of dinner ready," Jonathan said, pushing away from the counter.

Robert led him up the polished wooden staircase to the master bedroom. The room was spacious but cozy, dominated by a king-sized bed with a navy duvet and lots of pillows. Large windows let in the late sunset, casting golden rectangles across the hardwood floor.

"This is perfect," Jonathan said, immediately flopping onto the bed and spreading his arms wide. "Plenty of room for three."

Robert watched him, amusement and affection mingling in his chest. There was something boyish about Jonathan's enthusiasm that made him want to gather the man in his arms and never let go. He moved to the windows, drawing the curtains partway to create a more intimate atmosphere.

"Should probably change the sheets," Robert said, eyeing the navy bedding. "These are clean, but..."

"But you want everything to be perfect for Tom," Jonathan finished, propping himself up on his elbows. His knowing smile sent warmth spreading through Robert's chest.

"For all of us," Robert corrected, though he couldn't deny the particular care he wanted to take for Tom. "There are fresh linens in that closet over there."

Together, they stripped the bed. Robert watched Jonathan's hands as they worked, fascination taking hold. The man's fingers moved with remarkable precision, tucking corners with efficiency, smoothing wrinkles with a flick of his wrist.

"You've got incredible dexterity," Robert said, catching Jonathan's eye as they finished making the bed. "Were you always this coordinated?"

Jonathan smoothed the final pillow into place and smiled. "Years of dance training. Makes you aware of every muscle, every movement." He flexed his fingers demonstratively. "These hands can do all sorts of things."

"I know," Robert chuckled, warmth rising in his cheeks at the memory. "But I meant more generally."

"Want to see something?" Jonathan's eyes lit up with boyish enthusiasm.

"Always," Robert replied, intrigued by the sudden energy in Jonathan's posture.

Jonathan stepped back to the centre of the room, gauging the space. "Might want to move back a bit."

Robert obliged, leaning against the wall with crossed arms, curious about what was coming.

Without another word, Jonathan dropped into a slight crouch, arms swinging back, and then—in one explosive movement—launched himself into the air. His body tucked tight, flipping backward in a perfect arc before his feet found the floor again with barely a sound. He landed with arms extended, a playful showman's flourish finishing the move.

"Fucking hell," Robert breathed, genuinely impressed. The backflip had been executed with such casual precision that it looked effortless, though Robert knew the strength and control required was anything but. "That was incredible."

Jonathan grinned, a slight flush colouring his cheeks. "Not bad for thirty-seven, right?"

"Not bad for anyone," Robert countered, pushing away from the wall. He approached Jonathan, hands finding the man's shoulders. "Seriously, that was amazing. I could never do anything like that."

"I could teach you," Jonathan offered, his hands settling naturally on Robert's waist. "You've got the upper body strength for it."

Robert laughed, shaking his head. "No thanks. I prefer keeping my spine intact." He squeezed Jonathan's shoulders, feeling the firm muscle beneath his fingers. "But I'll happily watch you do it anytime."

The moment stretched between them, comfortable and charged with quiet appreciation. Robert found himself marvelling at how quickly this had become normal - this easy intimacy.

"We should get back to the kitchen," Jonathan said eventually, though he made no move to step away.

"Right," Robert agreed, reluctantly dropping his hands. He checked his watch - eighteen minutes until Tom's arrival. "Time to get the meat started."

In the kitchen, Robert checked the potatoes before retrieving the steaks from the refrigerator. The meat had been marinating for over an hour now, the rich aroma filling his nostrils.

"These look incredible," Jonathan said, peering over Robert's shoulder. "Proper butcher shop quality."

"Only the best," Robert replied, reaching for a cast-iron pan. "Hand me that oil, will you? It’ll take a good few minutes for this to heat up."

As they moved around the kitchen, Robert noticed a subtle change in Jonathan's demeanour. His movements had become more jittery, less of the fluid grace he'd displayed upstairs. He kept adjusting his shirt, running a hand through his hair.

"Jonathan," Robert said, pausing with the oil bottle in hand. "What's wrong?"

Jonathan's hand jerked, knocking a spoon off the counter. It clattered to the floor with a metallic echo. "It's fine. I'm fine," he said, but his voice had taken on a higher pitch, strained at the edges.

Robert set the oil down and moved closer, concern tightening his chest. Jonathan's face had gone pale, a light sweat breaking out across his forehead. His breathing had quickened, coming in short, shallow pants.

"You don't look fine," Robert said gently, reaching for Jonathan's shoulder. The muscle beneath his palm was rigid with tension.

Jonathan tried to laugh, but the sound came out strangled. "It's stupid. I don't know why I'm..." He broke off, pressing a hand against his chest. "Can't seem to catch my breath."

Robert recognised the signs immediately; he'd experienced these himself more times than he liked to admit. The hollowed look in Jonathan's eyes, the way his chest rose with frantic, shallow breaths and the rigid set of his jaw.

"Hey, hey," Robert said, keeping his voice low and steady. He stepped closer, both hands coming up to frame Jonathan's highly agitated face. "Look at me. Right here."

Jonathan's dark eyes were wide, pupils dilated. His breath hitched as he tried to comply, gaze darting everywhere before finally settling on Robert's face.

"That's it," Robert encouraged. "Focus on me. Breathe. Slowly. You're having a panic attack. It feels awful, but it will pass. Just focus on me and breathe. Deep and slow. You're safe love."

Robert demonstrated, making his own breathing deep and audible. Jonathan struggled to follow at first, but soon they breathed together, Robert counting softly, his thumbs making small circles on Jonathan's collarbone.

Gradually, Jonathan's shoulders began to ease, the colour returning to his cheeks. He wasn’t drowning anymore - he’d found the surface, at least for now.

"There," Robert said, relief washing through him as Jonathan's breathing steadied. "Better?"

Jonathan nodded, looking embarrassed now. "I haven't had one of those since I was a kid."

"Panic attacks don't care about your schedule," Robert said, keeping his tone light. "They show up when they want to."

Jonathan took a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing as Robert's hands moved to gently massage them. "Sorry about that," he said, colour returning to his face. "I think it's just... tonight feels important. Like something I don't want to mess up."

"I get it...You want to sit for a bit?" Robert asked, giving Jonathan's shoulders a squeeze. Jonathan let out a shaky laugh. "Think I’ll just...watch for a sec. If that’s alright?"

"That’s more than alright, love," Robert said, leaning into him and kissing his cheek. Making sure Jonathan was calm, he turned back to the stove. He poured oil into the cast-iron pan, watching it shimmer as it heated. "I'm nervous too."

Jonathan leaned against the counter, his breathing steadier now. "It's weird. I've performed in front of thousands of people without breaking a sweat, but the thought of dinner with Tom has me falling apart."

Robert chuckled as he laid the first steak in the pan, the sizzle and immediate aroma filling the kitchen. "Because this potentially matters more than any performance."

The sound and smell seemed to ground Jonathan further. He moved closer, watching as Robert added the second steak and then the sausages to another pan. "You're good at this," he observed, his voice almost back to normal.

"Cooking or calming panic attacks?" Robert asked, flipping the steaks with practised ease.

"Both," Jonathan admitted with a small smile.

The kitchen filled with the rich scent of searing meat, the sizzle and pop creating a comforting background noise as Jonathan fetched plates from the cabinet Robert pointed to. His movements were smoother now, the earlier tension draining from his body.

"I think I'm just overthinking everything," Jonathan said, arranging the plates beside the stove. "What if this is just a one-off? What if Tom realises he doesn't actually want this... whatever this is?"

Robert nodded, understanding completely. "That's the risk, isn't it? But I don't think that's going to happen." He flipped the sausages, watching them brown evenly. "Did you see the way he looked at us before he left? That wasn't someone having second thoughts."

Jonathan's smile widened slightly. "Yeah, you're right." He reached for the salad, bringing it to the table. "And even if it was just today... It would still be worth it."

"Exactly," Robert agreed, checking the steaks. "Perfect," he murmured, transferring them to a cutting board to rest. The sausages followed shortly after, their skins crisp and glistening.

Jonathan arranged the plates as Robert sliced the steaks, which were lightly pink in the middle. The potatoes came out of the oven, skins crisp and insides fluffy. Dishes were served up, and everything was finally ready just as they heard a knock.

Both men froze, eyes meeting across the kitchen.

"He's here," Jonathan said unnecessarily, a mix of excitement and lingering nervousness in his voice.

"Right on time," Robert replied, wiping his hands on a towel. He took a deep breath, steadying himself. "Ready?"

Jonathan nodded, straightening his shirt. They walked out to the hallway to see the door swing open, and there stood Tom.

His hair was slightly ruffled, as if he'd been running his hands through it, and his eyes widened as they landed on Robert and Jonathan standing in the hallway.

For a heartbeat, no one moved. Tom's expression shifted from nervousness to something else entirely - a raw, unguarded longing that made Robert's chest hurt.

"You're here," Tom breathed, his voice barely audible.

He stepped inside, pushing the door closed behind him with his foot. His bag slipped from his shoulder, landing on the floor with a soft thud. His eyes never left them, darting between Robert and Jonathan as if he couldn't quite believe they were real.

Then something broke in Tom's expression. He surged forward, covering the distance between them in three quick strides, and flung himself at them both. His arms stretched wide, attempting to encompass both men at once as he collided with their bodies.

The impact nearly knocked Robert off balance. He staggered back a step, steadying himself as Tom's arms wrapped around his waist, face buried against his chest. Jonathan was caught in the same embrace, pulled tight against Tom's other side.

He clung to them, trembling with pent-up intensity: "I love you both so much," he choked out, face muffled against the fabric of Robert’s shirt. His voice tremored, thin as tissue paper. "Was terrified you'd changed your minds. Stupid, I know. But I couldn't stop thinking about it."

The words punched the air from Robert's lungs. He felt, more than saw, Jonathan grow still beside him - breath catching high in his chest. Tom's arms were fierce and desperate, expressing a naked fear and need that made verbal reassurance feel woefully insufficient.

He held the younger man tighter, pulling him flush, his own cheek coming to rest against Tom’s wild hair. "Tom," Robert managed, voice unsteady and a tear of his own falling. He reached a hand up, threading fingers at the nape of Tom’s neck, thumb smoothing the fine hairs there. "Tom, look at us."

Tom resisted at first, face burrowed in Robert’s chest, and Robert felt the wet heat of tears soaking through the cotton, but he didn't care. When Tom finally lifted his head, his eyes were rimmed red, lashes stuck together, mouth trembling with the effort of holding himself together.

"We're here," Robert said, the words coming out thick and unfamiliar in his own mouth, as if they belonged to someone far braver. He looked from Tom to Jonathan and saw that same shimmer of tears in Jonathan’s eyes - a reflection that made Robert’s heart ache. "We're not leaving you. I love you. Both of you."

The words left his mouth without hesitation, and Robert realised with a start that they were absolutely true. This was something deeper, something that had taken root in the core of him with startling speed.

Jonathan's head snapped up, eyes wide and wet, any glibness gone from his face. "God, yes," he said, breathless. "Me too. I love both of you. I didn’t know I could, but - fuck, it’s true." His voice wobbled, and he gave a short, unsteady laugh that threatened to dissolve into more tears.

Tom made a half-sob, half-laugh, and collapsed forward, arms falling from Robert’s waist to circle both men’s shoulders in an embrace. It was awkward, it was imperfect, it was a tangle of limbs and damp faces and shaking hands, but rarely in his adult life had Robert felt a moment this real.

They stayed like that, breathing in and out for long seconds - three chests rising and falling in sync, punctuated by the occasional shaky sniffle. Eventually, Tom pulled away, scrubbing at his eyes with the heel of his hand and trying for a watery smile.

"Sorry," he muttered, voice hoarse. "Spent the entire ride over just… considering what I’d say. If I’d even be welcome. All afternoon, I kept thinking you'd realise this was crazy. That it was too fast, too intense."

Jonathan rolled his eyes. "Of course you’re welcome, you idiot. We spent all afternoon talking about you. Couldn’t shut up about you, actually."

"Yeah?" Tom’s smile grew, shy and radiant.

Robert nodded, pressing his forehead to Tom’s for a heartbeat before letting go. "Yeah. To be honest, we’re both a little terrified as well. It is fast and intense, but it doesn’t feel wrong. Not at all."

Jonathan nodded, his hand coming up to cup the back of Tom's head. "Some things you just know," he said simply. "This is one of those things."

Tom's smile was watery but radiant. "Yeah," he agreed, voice sounding sure. "This is real."

The scent of the cooked food wafted from the kitchen, reminding Robert of the dinner waiting for them. But he couldn't bring himself to break this important moment just yet. The three of them stood in the hallway, holding each other.

"I can't believe I just blurted that out," Tom said with a small, embarrassed laugh. "So much for being all cool and casual."

Robert chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Because we're such cool, casual blokes ourselves?"

"Speak for yourself," Jonathan protested with mock indignation. "I'm the epitome of cool according to several publications."

"Says the man who had a panic attack twenty minutes ago about whether tonight would go well," Robert teased gently.

Jonathan's eyes widened. "Rob! You weren't supposed to tell him that!"

Tom's gaze shifted to Jonathan, concern replacing the earlier vulnerability. "You had a panic attack? Are you okay?"

Jonathan shot Robert a half-hearted dirty look before turning to Tom. "I'm fine. Robert talked me through it. I was just... nervous. About tonight. About us."

"I was nervous too," Tom admitted, his fingers still twisted in the fabric of their shirts. "My hands were shaking so bad I could barely do up my buttons."

"Suppose none of us are as relaxed as we like to pretend, huh?" Robert said, affection warming his voice.

Tom laughed, the sound brighter now. "Good thing we've got each other, then." Tom pulled them both close, burying his face in Jonathan’s neck this time, and Robert realised he could get used to this - this mess of feeling and skin, this shared awkwardness that made the world briefly, impossibly bright

Robert felt Jonathan's arm tighten around his waist, closing their circle. They all stood there a moment, savouring the connection between them.

Jonathan glanced at Robert over Tom’s head. "You should see the dinner he’s cooked up for you. It’s like a bloody wedding banquet in there."

"Is not," Robert protested, feigning indignation. "Just wanted to make sure you were properly fed after… well, everything. We've got steaks, sausages, potatoes, the works. Though it might be getting cold as we've been having a moment."

Tom's smile was blinding as he looked between them. "Lead the way, then."

Robert took Tom's hand, interlacing their fingers. Jonathan did the same on Tom's other side, and together they walked toward the dining table, still connected, still finding their way in this new, shared reality they'd created.

The dinner table looked perfect - candles flickering in the centre, the food arranged on plates, everything waiting for them. Robert had worried earlier that the candles might be too much, but seeing Tom's face light up as they entered the room, he knew he'd made the right choice.

"This is..." Tom paused, taking in the scene before them. "This is beautiful."

"Just like you," Jonathan said, squeezing Tom's hand.

Tom's cheeks flushed a delightful pink. "So cheesy."

"Maybe, but I can’t argue with it," Robert added, guiding Tom to a chair.

The blush deepened as Tom sat down, looking up at them both with an expression of such open adoration that it made Robert's heart skip. Whatever happened next, Robert knew with absolute certainty that the three of them together was exactly where they were meant to be.

Chapter 8: Tom Brings Dessert

Summary:

After dinner, Tom, Robert, and Jonathan relax in the living room, sharing personal stories and discussing their rapidly developing relationship. The conversation turns serious as they address their feelings, the speed of their connection, and potential challenges ahead. Jonathan briefly leaves to make a call, returning with news that he's arranged for them to have two days off together. The mood lightens, leading to Tom sharing a story about his encounter with Chris Hemsworth, complete with a revealing video. Aroused, the trio share a passionate encounter. With newfound intimacy, they head upstairs - looking forward to their shared future and the two days they have to further develop their relationship.

Tom hadn't expected the evening to feel this perfect.

It was now going on 8:45 pm. A delicious meal and a light dessert had left everyone feeling full and satiated, though Jonathan was unhappy that his stomach was full enough that his abs weren't really popping anymore.

Plates had been cleared, washing up put into the machine, utensils drying, and now some light music was playing in the background as the indirect lighting of the living room was just low enough to set a warm and friendly mood.

Tom was nursing a Bero non-alcoholic beer, appreciating that the boys had gone out of their way for him. Rob was on his third rum and Coke as he finished tidying the kitchen while Jonathan was nursing a dirty martini.

The glow of candlelight from the dining table nearby cast shadows on the roof as Tom slumped onto the couch, leaning into the plush cushions. His eyes switched between watching Robert tidy with methodical precision and Jonathan sitting cross-legged on the carpet, recounting a disastrous audition from back in his drama days.

The latter finished his punchline just as Robert finished and sat down on the sofa to the right of Tom, both men laughing in response to the tale.

The food had been incredible - steaks cooked to perfection, crispy potatoes, and fresh salad that tasted like summer. But even better than the meal was this - the three of them together, relaxed and comfortable.

"I feel like there's still so much we don't know about each other," said Robert.

"Like what?" asked Jonathan.

"Like… everything," Robert replied. "Where did you grow up? Do you have siblings? What's your favourite food that isn't on this table?"

Tom laughed, the tension breaking. "That's a lot of questions."

"We've got time," Jonathan said, settling back on the floor. "All night, in fact." His eyes caught Tom's, warm with promise.

"I grew up in the South West, Kingston upon Thames. Dad's a comedian and author, mum's a photographer. I've got three younger brothers - Sam, Harry, and Paddy. I usually stay with them when I'm in town"

"Big family," Robert commented, his fingers tracing his glass.

"Yeah, a bit of chaos growing up. Always someone to play with, though." Tom smiled at the memory. "I had dyslexia, so my parents did a lot for me, changed schools and everything so I could get the help I needed."

"So the gymnastics started early?" Jonathan asked.

"Very. I was climbing before I could walk properly. Drove my parents mental." Tom took a sip of his sparkling water. "What about you two?"

"Three sisters," Jonathan said. "Grew up in Benson Lock in Oxfordshire. Dad was an audiologist, mum a company manager. Pretty idyllic, really."

"And yet you ended up in musical theatre," Robert observed.

Jonathan's smile turned wry. "Couldn't keep me away from it. Started dance training way early, saw "Oliver" at five and wanted to become an actor. RSC by nine. Parents were supportive, though I think Dad secretly hoped I'd follow him."

Tom turned to Robert, curious. "And you?"

Robert's hand stilled for a moment. "Army brat. Moved around a lot - the US, the UK and Germany. Dad was in the U.S. Air Force, Mum was from Hammersmith, where I was born. They split when I was very young, so I got pulled between them a bit," he added with a small smile to Tom.

"That must have been hard, moving so much," Tom said, trying to imagine never having a permanent home.

Robert shrugged. "You get used to it. Learn to adapt quickly, make friends fast, and both parents are good - especially my mum, who is so kind. I carry a bit of impostor syndrome with me always, and get cautious about getting too attached. Learned early that nothing is permanent."

Something in Robert's tone made Tom's chest tighten. He reached over, finding Robert's free hand and giving it a squeeze. "Yet here you are, saying 'I love you' to two blokes you met this morning."

Robert's laugh was surprised. "Here I am," he agreed, squeezing back. "Breaking all my own rules."

"We're all breaking rules," Jonathan said, leaning forward to set his empty glass on the coffee table. "Speaking of which - what are we doing here, exactly? I mean, beyond the obvious."

Tom felt the atmosphere shift, becoming more serious. "What do you mean?"

Jonathan ran a hand through his hair, a gesture Tom was beginning to recognise as a personal tick as to when Johnnie was nervous. "I mean, how do we navigate this when we go back to our regular lives?"

The question hung in the air, giving voice to concerns Tom had been trying to ignore since the moment he'd left the aquatic centre.

"I don't know how it works practically. I've never done this before… been with two people at once, I mean," Tom admitted, his voice smaller than he intended.

"None of us have," Robert said. "We're in uncharted territory."

Jonathan nodded. "My schedule's a nightmare most of the time. I'm usually either on film shoots, in rehearsals, doing stage plays, etc. Free time is limited."

"And I'm booked solid for a good year or so," Tom added, thinking of his packed calendar - not just "Spider-Man" but other films after that. "Different countries, different time zones."

"I'm not much more flexible," Robert said. "Occasional TV shoots which take me places, stage commitments, and I do a lot of improv comedy dates in various parts of the country."

Tom felt a heaviness settling in his stomach. The logistics seemed daunting - three busy professionals with demanding careers, potentially scattered across different parts of the world at any one time.

"But you two have London as a base, and I can get there easily", Jonathan pointed out, his expression brightening. "That's something."

"True," Tom agreed, feeling a flicker of hope. "And we all get breaks between projects."

Robert shifted, turning more fully toward them both. "I think the thing is, we'll find a way. It might not be easy, but nothing worth having ever is."

"It's mad - we've known each other less than twenty-four hours - but I can't imagine walking away from this," Tom said, the words tumbling out before he could second-guess himself.

Jonathan's smile was soft. "I've had relationships fail because the other person couldn't understand my schedule or my work. But you two get it. You live it."

"Plus," Robert added, his voice dropping to that rumble that made Tom's toes curl, "the chemistry between us is... undeniable."

Tom felt his cheeks warm at the understatement. "That's one way of putting it."

"What about families?" Jonathan asked. "I mean, are we telling people? My sisters will be thrilled I've finally got someone to give me a good rogering every other night, even if it's two blokes instead of one."

The three laughed at Jonathan's matter-of-fact delivery of that statement.

"Gods, my brothers will take the piss mercilessly," Tom said with a laugh. "But they'll be happy for me. My parents, too, I think. They've always just wanted me to be happy."

Robert was quiet for a moment, his expression thoughtful. "My parents are traditional in some ways, progressive in others. They might need time to adjust to the idea of a three-person relationship. But they love me, they'll get it."

"And what about..." Tom hesitated, unsure how to phrase the question. "I mean, are we exclusive? The three of us?"

Robert nodded slowly. "I'd like that. Just us. I've never been good at dividing my attention too many ways."

"Same," Jonathan agreed. "I want to focus on building this, not complicating it with other people."

Tom felt relief wash through him. "Good. That's what I want too."

Outside, night had fallen completely, cocooning them in their own private world. Jonathan got up and closed the curtains.

"What about work?" Tom asked, the thought suddenly occurring to him. "Do we keep this private, or...?"

Jonathan squeezed his hand. "That's up to you both. I've been out for years. My career hasn't suffered for it."

"I've always been fairly private about my personal life in general", said Robert, "Plus I'm not under the scrutiny you two are."

Tom nodded, considering. His own sexuality wasn't a secret exactly, but he'd never made a public statement about it beyond his close friendship with his co-star Zendaya and how the press kept playing that up. "I think I'd rather keep it low-key for now. Not because I'm ashamed," he added quickly, "but because I want this to be ours before it becomes everyone else's business."

"That makes sense," Robert agreed. "We can figure out the public side of things as we go."

Jonathan's phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, frowning at the screen. "Sorry, it's my agent. I should take this."

He rose from the couch, fingers brushing Tom's shoulder as he moved past. "Won't be long," he promised, already pressing the phone to his ear as he disappeared into the hall.

Tom watched him go, then turned back to Robert, whose arm rested comfortably around his shoulders. The weight of it felt right, anchoring him.

"So," Tom said, suddenly aware of being alone with Robert for the first time since the pool. "You and Jonathan seem to have got closer since I was gone."

Robert's lips quirked up at one corner, his dark eyes crinkling. "What are you implying, young Mr. Holland?"

"The way you look at each other," Tom replied, studying Robert's face in the soft light. "It's slightly different from before."

Robert nodded, his thumb made small circles on Tom's shoulder. "We had time to talk. And... other things."

Heat crept up Tom's neck. "Other things?"

"Mmm," Robert hummed, his smile deepening.

"I want to hear about it," Tom said, his voice dropping lower. "Every detail."

Robert leaned closer, his beard tickling Tom's ear. "Later," he promised, his breath warm against Tom's skin. "When we're upstairs. Jonathan will likely tell the story better than I do."

Tom shivered, already anticipating what the night would bring. "How does it feel?" he asked, changing tack. "Between you two, I mean."

Robert considered this, his expression thoughtful. "Different from you, but just as right. Jonathan's all high energy, a ‘walking Id'. Being with him feels like trying to catch lightning, but its exhilarating."

The words touched something deep in Tom's chest. "And me with him?"

"Like watching two dancers who know each other's moves," Robert said without hesitation. "There's a natural grace between you. It's beautiful to watch."

Tom absorbed this, pleased by the description. "And what about us? You and me?"

Robert's eyes met Tom's, warm and sincere, hand moved from Tom's shoulder to the nape of his neck. "With you, it's like coming home to a place I didn't know I was missing. We ground each other, I think. There's a steadiness, a certainty. Even with all the intensity, I feel… peaceful with you. And you know you'll always be safe with me."

Tom leaned into the touch, understanding exactly what Robert meant. For all the electric chemistry between them, there was also a sense of certainty when they were together, as if some part of him had always known Robert was coming.

"It's strange," Tom mused, "how the three of us have these different dynamics in pairs, but somehow it all works together."

"Balance," Robert suggested. "Each relationship has its own flavour, but together they create something more complete than any one alone."

From the hall, they could hear Jonathan's voice rising and falling, occasional bursts of surprise punctuating what sounded like a serious conversation.

"Do you think it will always be like this?" Tom asked, voicing the doubt that had been lingering at the edges of his mind. "This easy, I mean."

Robert's expression turned serious. "Not at all," he said honestly. "There will be very difficult days. Times when schedules conflict, when distance feels impossible, when we have to make big sacrifices to be together. But," he added, his hand squeezing the back of Tom's neck gently, "I think what we have is worth fighting for."

Tom nodded, grateful for the honesty. "I think so too."

The sound of Jonathan's footsteps approaching made them both look up. He appeared in the doorway, phone still in hand, his face split with a wide grin.

"Good news?" Robert asked, noting Jonathan's expression.

Jonathan bounded back into the room, practically vibrating with excitement. "The best," he said, dropping back onto the couch beside Tom. "That was my brilliant agent. She's been in touch with both of yours."

Tom straightened, suddenly alert. "What?"

"And," Jonathan said, drawing out the moment, "we're all officially free for the next two days. No commitments, no calls, no fittings." He looked between them, his smile growing impossibly wider. "Just us."

Tom felt a surge of joy explode through his chest. "Are you serious?" he gasped, bouncing slightly on the couch cushions. "How did you manage that?"

"A bit of schedule juggling, you and I we're both going to have to do a lot on Monday to make up for it," Jonathan shrugged, though his proud smile betrayed how pleased he was with himself. "But they know something important is happening, so they've made it work."

"Two whole days," Tom repeated, the possibilities unfurling in his mind. Two days of uninterrupted time with these men, to explore, to talk, to simply be together without the world intruding.

"This calls for a toast," Robert said, reaching for his wine glass on the coffee table.

Tom's excitement bubbled over. He threw his arms around Jonathan, nearly knocking him backward in his enthusiasm. "You're amazing!" he crowed, then turned to include Robert in his embrace, the movement quick and jubilant.

His elbow caught Robert's arm just as the man was raising his glass. The rum splashed across Robert's chest and soaked into his shirt.

"Oh shit!" Tom gasped, pulling back. "I'm so sorry!"

Robert looked down at his shirt, then back up at Tom's horrified expression. To Tom's relief, he burst out laughing.

"Well," Robert said, setting the now-empty glass down, "I guess that's one way to celebrate."

"I'm such a klutz," Tom groaned, already reaching for tissues from the dinner table. "Your shirt is ruined."

"It's just a shirt," Robert assured him, still chuckling as he rose from the couch. "And it needed washing anyway."

Without ceremony, Robert grasped the hem of his t-shirt and pulled it over his head in one smooth motion. The candlelight played across his olive skin, highlighting the dark hair that covered his chest and tapered down his stomach.

Tom's apology died in his throat. Even after everything they'd done today, the sight of Robert's bare torso made his mouth go dry.

"I'll just put this in to soak," Robert said, oblivious to Tom's staring as he wadded up the stained shirt. "Be right back."

As Robert disappeared toward what Tom assumed was a laundry room, Jonathan leaned closer, his breath warm against Tom's ear. "Like what you see?"

Tom felt his cheeks heat. "Yeah."

Jonathan's eyes were twinkling with amusement. "You should've seen the view I got after you left."

Before Tom could ask what exactly that meant, Robert returned, still gloriously shirtless.

"Sorry about that," Robert said, settling back onto the couch. "Should have been more careful with my drink."

"No, I'm sorry," Tom insisted. "I got too excited."

"Worth it for two days together," Robert replied, his smile warm and forgiving.

Tom felt a wave of affection wash over him. Without thinking, he shifted on the couch, lowering himself until his shoulder's rested on Robert's legs and head rested against the man's bare stomach. The dense hair tickled his cheek, but the warmth and solidity beneath was irresistible.

Robert seemed momentarily surprised by the move, but then his hand came to rest on Tom's head, fingers gently caressing his hair. "Comfortable?" he asked, voice amused and rumbling pleasantly under Tom's ear.

"Very," Tom murmured, feeling himself relax into the touch. He could hear Robert's heartbeat, steady and strong, feel the gentle rise and fall of his breathing. It was oddly intimate in a way that had nothing to do with sex.

Jonathan watched them, his expression softening. "You two look good together," he said, his voice warm with affection.

"Come here," Robert said, extending his free arm in invitation.

Jonathan didn't hesitate. He moved closer, lifting Tom's torso to a bit of laughter and tucking himself against Robert's side and then resting Tom's body on his own lap - the young man stretched on his back across both the larger men's knees.

Jonathan's head found the hollow of Robert's shoulder while the man's arm wrapped around him, pulling him close. All three were now well connected.

Tom felt Jonathan's hand find his, their fingers intertwining across Robert's torso. The three of them fit together perfectly.

"So," Jonathan said after a moment of comfortable silence, "what should we do with our two days of freedom?"

Tom considered this, his cheek still pressed against the warm expanse of Robert's stomach. "We could go somewhere," he suggested.

"Or we could just stay right here," Robert countered, his fingers still moving lazily through Tom's hair. "Order in food, watch movies, talk, sleep..." His voice dropped lower, taking on that rumble that sent shivers down Tom's spine. "Fuck each other's brains out over and over."

"I like the sound of that," Jonathan agreed, his thumb tracing circles on the back of Tom's hand where their fingers were still linked. "Though maybe we could venture out for dinner tomorrow night? There's a great Italian place not far from here."

"Perfect," Tom sighed, feeling utterly content. He tilted his head to look up at Robert. The angle gave him a perfect view of the underside of Robert's beard, the strong line of his jaw, the warmth in his dark eyes as he gazed down at Tom.

"Thank you," Tom said softly.

Robert's eyebrows rose slightly. "For what?"

"For this," Tom replied, gesturing vaguely with his free hand. "For taking a chance on us. For being you."

Robert's expression softened, his hand coming to rest on Tom's cheek. "Thank you for needing certification," he said, his tone light but his eyes serious. "Best day of my life, finding you two."

Tom felt his heart swell, too full of emotion to form words. "That includes you, muggins down the end."

"Who me?" said Jonathan, replying with mock seriousness.

Tom laughed. "Yeah, you. Thank you for being... I'm not sure how to put it. For being exactly what I didn't know I needed."

"You're welcome, babe", Jonathan replied, beaming.

Tom turned his face into Robert's warm stomach, pressing a soft kiss to the hair-dusted skin there. His mind had been drifting back to another memory all evening - something he'd been debating whether to share.

"I just remembered something," Tom said, shifting his position a bit. "Something I think you two might appreciate."

"What's that?" Jonathan asked, his hand naturally coming to rest on Tom's thigh.

Tom felt a flush creeping up his neck. "Well, you know how actors sometimes... connect... on set?"

Robert's fingers paused in Tom's hair. "Are you about to tell us a story about hooking up with a co-star?"

"Maybe," Tom replied, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips. "Jonathan knows which one"

Jonathan's hand tightened on Tom's thigh. "Hemsworth?"

Tom nodded, unable to keep the grin from spreading across his face. "It was during 'Infinity War.' We were both stressed, working these insane hours..."

"Go on," Robert encouraged, his voice dropping to that deep rumble that made Tom's stomach flip.

"We'd been flirting for weeks," Tom continued, settling more comfortably across their laps. "Just harmless stuff at first - he'd ruffle my hair, I'd compliment his arms. Standard things."

Jonathan snorted. "Absolutely standard to tell your mate his biceps are godlike."

"They are godlike," Tom protested. "Have you seen them?"

"Fair point," Robert conceded. "So, flirting..."

"Right. Anyway, we were shooting this scene that kept going wrong. Take after take, and we were both exhausted. Finally got a break and ended up at his hotel room just to decompress."

Tom could feel both men listening intently, their bodies slightly tensed with anticipation. Jonathan's thumb was making small circles on his thigh, while Robert's fingers had resumed their gentle movement in his hair.

"He offered me a drink," Tom continued. "Said I looked like I needed to relax. Within fifteen minutes, we're sitting really close on his couch, and he's got his arm stretched behind me..."

"Classic move," Jonathan murmured appreciatively.

"I thought I was imagining it," Tom admitted. "I mean, he's married, has kids. But then he started talking about how his wife and he have an understanding when they're apart for long shoots."

Robert's stomach muscles tensed slightly beneath Tom's cheek. "And?"

"And then he just looked at me with those blue eyes and said, 'I've been wanting to do this for weeks,' and kissed me." Tom paused, savouring the memory. "His beard was softer than I expected."

"Fuck," Jonathan breathed, his hand sliding higher on Tom's thigh.

"He's even bigger up close," Tom continued, enjoying their reactions. "His hands are enormous. Made me feel tiny, which never happens."

"What happened next?" Robert asked, his voice noticeably rougher.

Tom bit his lip, remembering. "He picked me up, literally lifted me like I weighed nothing, and carried me to the bedroom part of his trailer. Tossed me on the bed and just... towered over me."

The memory was vivid - Chris standing at the foot of the bed, pulling his t-shirt over his head to reveal that ridiculous torso, the look of hunger in his eyes as he'd gazed down at Tom.

"He undressed me slowly," Tom continued, his voice dropping lower. "Said he'd been thinking about it since we first met. Called me 'pretty boy.'"

Jonathan made a small noise in the back of his throat. "Can't blame him there."

Tom felt the atmosphere in the room shifting, growing heavier with desire. Robert's fingers had stopped moving in his hair, and Jonathan's hand was now resting dangerously high on his inner thigh.

"His cock was proportional to the rest of him," Tom said, deliberately casual. "Thick, uncut, as long as yours Rob with this perfect curve to it. Made my jaw ache."

"Jesus," Robert muttered, his free hand coming to rest on his own thigh, fingers flexing with obvious restraint.

"The best part," Tom continued, feeling bold now, "was how gentle he was at first. All that strength, holding back. But when I told him I could take it harder..."

Jonathan shifted beneath him, and Tom felt the unmistakable hardness pressing against his ass in Jonathan's lap. "Did he fuck you?" Jonathan asked bluntly.

Tom shook his head. "Not that time. We were both too worked up. But he did record me sucking him off."

Robert's breath caught audibly. "He what?"

Tom felt a thrill run through him at their reactions. "He asked first. Said he wanted to remember it. I thought it was hot, so I agreed."

"Do you… have it?" Jonathan asked, his voice strained.

Tom nodded slowly. "Want to see?"

The question hung in the air for a heartbeat. Then both men spoke at once:

"Fuck yes," from Jonathan.

"If you want to share it," from Robert, more measured but no less eager - especially as Tom could feel the hard lump of Robert's cock on the back of his neck and shoulders

Tom sat up, sliding his phone from his pocket. His fingers trembled slightly as he navigated to a hidden folder, protected by a separate password. He hesitated for just a moment - this was intimate, private - but the trust he felt with these two men overrode any lingering doubts.

"It's not very long," Tom warned, finding the video and holding the phone where they could all see it. "But it's... intense."

He pressed play. The screen filled with the image of Chris Hemsworth sitting on the edge of a bed, his powerful thighs spread wide, one large hand wrapped around the impressive girth of his cock. The camera angle suggested it had been propped up on something opposite the bed.

Chris's voice came through the speaker, low and rough: "Show me what that mouth can do."

The camera captured Tom moving into frame, dropping to his knees between Chris's spread legs. Tom watched his younger on-screen self look up at Chris with obvious hunger before leaning forward to lick a long stripe from base to tip.

"Fuck, that's good," Chris groaned, his free hand coming to rest on the back of Tom's head, which went deeper, his lips stretching around the impressive width. Chris's hand tightened in his hair, guiding but not forcing, his hips making small, restrained movements.

"Look at how you take it," Chris murmured, his accent thicker with arousal.

Tom could feel both men's breathing growing shallow and rapid as they watched the video. Their hearts raced in tandem with his own, the air in the room suddenly thick and heavy. Robert's stomach rose and fell in quick succession against the back of Tom's head, while Jonathan's thighs tensed beneath him.

On screen, Tom's past self worked Chris's impressive length with clear enthusiasm, drawing another groan from the Australian.

Almost unconsciously, Tom shifted his hips, pressing down slightly into Jonathan's lap. He felt the unmistakable hardness there, straining against thin fabric. Jonathan responded immediately, a subtle upward grind that sent sparks of pleasure through Tom's core.

"God," Jonathan breathed out, his hand sliding from Tom's thigh to cup the growing bulge in his jeans. His fingers traced the outline with teasing precision, applying just enough pressure to make Tom bite his lip.

Tom glanced up at Robert, who was transfixed by the video. His eyes had darkened to near-black, lips parted as his breathing quickened. What caught Tom's attention, though, was the way Robert's thumb had found its way to his mouth. He was biting the pad of it gently, then running his tongue along the edge in an unconscious mimicry of what was happening on screen. With each subtle lick, Tom felt Robert's clothed cock twitch against his shoulder blades.

On the phone, Chris's voice grew more strained. "Fuck, Tom - I'm gonna cum. Want it on that pretty face?"

The Tom in the video nodded eagerly, pulling back just enough to keep the head of Chris's cock between his lips while his hand worked the shaft with quick, practised strokes.

"Oh shit," Jonathan muttered, his grip tightening on Tom's erection as his hips pushed up more insistently.

On screen, Chris groaned deeply, his massive body tensing as the first pulse hit. Tom pulled back further, letting the thick ropes paint across his cheeks, lips, and chin. The camera captured every detail - the way Tom's eyes closed in bliss, how his tongue darted out to catch what landed near his mouth, the sheer volume that Chris produced.

Robert let out a strangled noise, somewhere between a groan and a gasp. His hips shifted restlessly, grinding his hardness against Tom's upper back. "Fucking hell," he breathed, the words barely audible.

Jonathan wasn't any more composed. His breathing had grown ragged, his erection straining painfully against his pants as he continued to palm Tom through his jeans.

The video ended with Chris reaching down to wipe some of his release from Tom's cheek with his thumb, then guiding it into Tom's eager mouth.

Tom lowered the phone, feeling the heavy weight of both men's gazes on him. The tension in the room was electric, crackling between them like storm clouds about to break.

"There's more," Tom said, his voice coming out rough, "If you want to see it."

"More?" Robert echoed, sounding almost dazed.

Tom nodded, feeling suddenly powerful despite being stretched across their laps. "We met up a few more times during filming. Got a bit more... adventurous."

"Show us," Jonathan said, the command softened by the pleading note in his voice. "Please."

Tom navigated to another video in the hidden folder, this one longer than the first. He hesitated briefly before pressing play, anticipation coiling in his stomach as he watched their faces.

This video had a different angle - clearly set up more deliberately than the first.

The video started without preamble. Tom's back was to the camera, his lean body rising and falling as he straddled Chris Hemsworth's massive frame. The Australian's thick cock glistened with lube, disappearing into Tom with each downward motion. Chris's hands gripped Tom's hips, guiding his movements while Tom's head tilted back in ecstasy.

"Holy shit," Jonathan whispered.

Tom felt movement beneath him as Jonathan fumbled with his shorts, the zipper's metallic rasp cutting through the sounds coming from the phone. Jonathan's cock sprang free, the hot length pressing against Tom's clothed ass. The contrast between the video and what was happening now made Tom's head spin.

Jonathan's hand slipped beneath Tom's waistband, fingers wrapping around his straining erection. Tom gasped, hips bucking instinctively into the touch.

"Is this okay?" Jonathan murmured, his thumb circling the sensitive head.

"Yes," Tom breathed, his attention split between the video, Jonathan's expert touch, and Robert's increasingly laboured breathing.

On screen, Tom rose and fell on Chris's impressive girth, his movements becoming more frantic as pleasure built. The camera captured everything – the flex of Tom's thighs, the tight grip of Chris's fingers on his hips, the place where their bodies joined.

Robert shifted beside them, one hand moving to his chest. His fingers found his nipple, pinching and rolling the hardened nub. His other hand dropped to his crotch, adjusting his erection upward until it strained above his belt line, the tip now nudging against the back of Tom's scalp.

The heat of Robert's cock against his head made Tom turn. Without thinking, he pressed his lips to Robert's bare stomach, trailing kisses down the path of dark hair until he reached the waistband. Tom looked up, meeting Robert's dark gaze, then pressed his mouth to the head of Robert's cock, feeling it throb against his lips.

"Fuck," Robert groaned, his hand coming to rest on Tom's cheek.

Jonathan's strokes grew more purposeful, his thumb gathering the pre-cum leaking from Tom's tip and using it to ease the glide of his hand. "You're so hard watching yourself get fucked," he murmured.

On the screen, Chris's voice grew louder, his Australian accent thicker with arousal. "That's it, ride me harder. Show me how much you want it."

The Tom in the video complied, his pace increasing as Chris's massive hands guided him. The sounds of skin on skin, of pleasure-filled moans, filled the room.

"I can't believe you took all of that," Robert said, his voice rough with desire as he watched the screen. His cock twitched against Tom's cheek.

"I have one more," Tom said, his voice hoarse with arousal. His fingers trembled as he navigated to the final video in the hidden folder. "This one's... different. We were experimenting."

Jonathan's hand stilled on Tom's cock, curiosity momentarily overriding lust. "Different how?"

Tom swallowed hard. "It might be too much. I've never shown anyone this. We did it once, glad to say, at least I tried it. Was hot in the moment, not sure I'd do it again."

Robert's hand cupped Tom's cheek, thumb tracing his lower lip. "You don't have to share anything you're not comfortable with."

"I want to," Tom insisted, a flutter of nervous excitement in his stomach. "I want you to see all of me. Even the parts I'm embarrassed about."

With a deep breath, Tom pressed play on the final video.

The footage showed a hotel shower, steam billowing around two figures. The camera had been placed on a shelf, capturing Chris and Tom as they kissed under the spray. Water cascaded down their bodies, highlighting every plane and muscle.

"I want to do everything with you," the young Tom on the video said, his voice barely audible over the rushing water. "All the things I've been too scared to try."

Chris's large hand cupped Tom's face. "Tell me what you want, Tom."

Tom's voice came through the speaker, hesitant at first, then gaining confidence. "I want you to piss on me. Always wanted to try it."

Shock dawned on Chris's face. "You sure about this?"

Video-Tom nodded, dropping to his knees on the shower floor. "Please, just not the face."

Chris's hand wrapped around his own cock, aiming it at Tom's chest. For a moment, nothing happened. Then a stream of golden liquid hit Tom's torso, running down his abs in rivulets.

"Jesus Christ," Jonathan breathed, his cock twitching violently against Tom's ass.

On screen, Tom's head fell back, eyes closed as Chris's urine splashed across his chest, avoiding his face as requested. The look of absolute surrender on Tom's face was incredibly raw, a side of himself he'd never shown again until today with the men in this room.

Tom felt his face burning as he watched, unable to look at either man. He'd never shared this with anyone before and waited for the inevitable reaction.

What he didn't expect was Robert's long, deft fingers plucking the phone from his grip and chucking it on the coffee table, the video's obscene soundtrack leaking into the air: moans, slaps, the hiss of water on tile. Robert ignored it, taking Tom's face between his hands, his gaze so focused and hungry it made Tom's skin prickle.

"Look at me," Robert said, not a request but a demand.

Tom's first instinct was to look away - surely there'd be a flicker of disgust, or a shadow of judgment. Instead, Robert's eyes were blown wide, nearly black, his thick brows drawn together in pure, undiluted want.

Robert's lips caught Tom's with a bruising intensity, the kiss all teeth and tongue, desperate and greedy as if he wanted to devour everything Tom had ever tried to hide.

Tom might have melted then and there, if not for the touch of Jonathan's hands at his sides, urgent, frantically pulling at Tom's jeans. "Off," Jonathan muttered, his voice giving away his arousal. "Get these fucking off...now..." and Tom barely had time to gasp before cool air shocked his thighs and cock, his jeans and briefs yanked well past his knees and off his legs

Robert broke his kiss with a groan, his own hands already at his belt, tearing at the buckle and zip as though his life depended on it. He shoved his pants and briefs all the way down, not stopping to kick them off, just letting them tangle around his knees. His cock sprang free, flushed and thick, the head already glossy with pre-come, and it bobbed heavily against his abdomen as he dropped to his knees on the floor.

Jonathan was behind Tom now, having disrobed in record time. His hands gripped Tom's hips, kneading them with impatience.

Tom barely managed to catch his breath before Jonathan was pressing him down, guiding him onto all fours on the carpet. His hands roamed over Tom's arse, manhandling the cheeks roughly.

Robert was directly in front of Tom, his cock perfectly level with Tom's mouth. "Open", came his low voice, one drenched in need.

Tom did, lips parting, and Robert's cock slid home - not forcefully but deep and sure. Tom moaned around the girth, swallowing the musk and salt and faint trace of Robert's sweat. He felt Robert's hand cup the crown of his head, steadying him as the thick shaft filled his mouth, the taste and smell crowding out every other conscious thought.

"Johnnie. Lube. Under the table," Robert said, and Tom felt Jonathan's grip leave his hips for a split second. There was a frantic shuffle and the wet, unmistakable squelch of a bottle being upended. Hands returned, slick now, and Jonathan lined himself up behind Tom, the blunt head of his cock slick and needy at Tom's entrance.

There was no preamble, no lingering tease or gentle prodding - Jonathan was in him in a single, determined push. The burn made Tom's eyes water, but it was nothing compared to the sudden, animal fullness of being pinned between two men, stretched and used at both ends.

"Fuck," Jonathan hissed, both hands now back on Tom's hips, fingers digging in hard, anchoring himself as he began to thrust. "So tight - so fucking tight..." he choked out, his voice shaking.

Tom couldn't make a sound; his moan was swallowed by Robert's cock driving into his throat with increasing urgency. The overload of sensation was almost too much - the heat and slickness of Jonathan's cock, the thick ache of Robert's, hands everywhere, bodies pressing against him and into him and around him. Hands, he's not sure which but possibly both of them, undid his shirt buttons and tore the garment from his body, leaving him naked.

Robert's grip on his head tightened, never forceful but keeping Tom's mouth stretched wide as he fucked in and out, hips snapping forward with each pass. "Fuck, Tom. Want you to swallow it all," he growled, the words vibrating through Tom's jaw.

Every time Jonathan thrust home, it drove Tom deeper onto Robert's cock, and the two men fell into a kind of brutal, exhilarating rhythm: Jonathan's hips slamming forward, Robert's thrusting to meet him, and Tom the shuddering plaything caught between. Each stroke of Jonathan's cock inside him hit the sweet spot, sending jolts of pleasure up his spine, and Tom's own cock swung heavy and untouched, leaking freely onto the carpet below.

The pounding built and built, the air thick with sweat, the soundtrack of the phone video now almost superfluous compared to the slaps and gasps and curses ricocheting around the room.

Robert's voice had gone ragged, half a snarl: "Take it. Take both of us. That's it, Tom. Just like with Chris. You look so fucking good getting wrecked like this."

Jonathan's rhythm began to break down, every thrust more frantic than the last, his breath hot against the small of Tom's back. "Fuck… I'm about to…" he spluttered, and with a guttural groan, he drove himself in deep, pulled out at the last instant, and shot hot ropes over Tom's arse and lower back, marking him.

Robert was only a beat behind, his cock pulsing against Tom's tongue as he came, flooding Tom's mouth with salty, viscous heat. Tom tried to swallow all of it, but some leaked from the corners of his mouth, dripping onto his chin and the carpet below.

Robert pulled out, his chest heaving, and cupped Tom's cheek with a tenderness at odds with the violence of their encounter. "I love you so much, baby" he whispered, thumb wiping the spit and come from Tom's lower lip.

Something almost paternal crossed Robert's face as he guided Tom up, the boy on his knees in front of an also kneeling Robert. Behind, Jonathan had collapsed onto his back, legs splayed wide, cock still twitching as the last aftershocks rippled through him.

Tom was floating, every nerve ending alive, skin buzzing. He barely registered that his own cock was still hard, bobbing between his legs, until Robert wrapped a big, warm hand around it. "Cum on me, Tom," Robert murmured, voice a soothing balm in Tom's shell-shocked ears.

It only took five quick, deliberate strokes, and Tom came, his vision going white at the edges as he painted Robert's chest and belly with thick, pearly stripes. He looked up at Robert, whose facial expression couldn't be happier at the sensation of being drenched in Tom's spunk. The orgasm left Tom nearly sobbing, every muscle trembling with spent energy.

For long moments, the only sound in the room was their ragged breathing. Tom slumped forward against Robert's solid warmth, utterly spent, the cum mingling on their chests. Robert lowered both himself and Tom onto the ground next to Jonathan.

"That was..." Jonathan began, then trailed off, seemingly at a loss for words.

"Nuts," Robert finished, his arms wrapping around Tom's waist.

Tom nodded weakly, still trying to catch his breath. The video on his phone had stopped playing, the screen now dark. He felt strangely vulnerable yet completely safe, sandwiched between these two men who had seen his darkest desires and responded not with judgment but with matching passion.

"I've never shown anyone that before," Tom admitted, his voice hoarse from Robert's treatment.

Jonathan's hand found his, squeezing gently. "Thank you for trusting us with it."

"Was it too much?" Tom asked, suddenly uncertain. The post-orgasmic clarity was bringing doubts rushing back.

Robert's lips pressed against Tom's shoulder, warm and reassuring. "Nothing about you could ever be too much for us," he said firmly. "Nothing."

"We want all of you," Jonathan added, lifting his head to meet Tom's gaze. "The parts you show the world, and especially the parts you don't."

These men had seen Tom completely unguarded, vulnerable in ways he'd never allowed himself to be before, and they were still here, holding him, wanting him. He couldn't be happier.

"I think I need another shower," Tom said finally, looking down at the mess they'd made of each other.

Jonathan laughed, the sound light and affectionate. "We all do. And then bed. I want to fall asleep with both of you."

Robert nodded in agreement, his beard tickling Tom's neck. "Shower, then bed. And tomorrow..."

"Tomorrow is just for us," Tom finished, a smile spreading across his face despite his exhaustion. "No one else."

The three men helped each other up, bodies sticky and tired but hearts lighter than they'd been in years. As they made their way upstairs, supporting each other with gentle hands and soft kisses, Tom felt any last doubts fade away.

Right now, what he needed was waiting in the bedroom at the top of the stairs - sleep and then two precious days of exploration, connection, and building the foundation of a new home. Three men who found each other and creating something stronger and more beautiful than any could have imagined alone.

Whatever came next – whatever challenges awaited them beyond these two days – they would face them... together.

THE END... But the story continues in 'Three's Company, Four's a Crowd'.

Notes:

Thanks to everyone who has acknowledged this story in comments and e-mails, it has been most appreciated.

Notes:

This story is a complete work of fiction and is in no way based on true events or the true sexuality of any of the actors mentioned. Please let me know what you think of this story via e-mailing me at [email protected] as the feedback is very important. Plus it's often hot to hear as well.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of The Spider, The Prince & The Comedian