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The blindfold was Jax’s idea.

“Trust exercise,” he’d called it, grinning that wolfish grin that still made Leo’s stomach flip even after two and a half years. “Anniversary edition. You game?”

Leo was game. Leo was always game now—a far cry from the man who’d spent years watching through windows, too afraid to want anything for himself.

So here he was: naked, blindfolded, kneeling in the center of their bedroom while two sets of hands moved over his body with devastating slowness.

“You remember the rules?” Damon’s voice came from somewhere to his left, low and commanding.

“Yes.”

“Tell me.”

“I don’t speak unless asked a direct question. I don’t come until you tell me I can. I don’t move unless you move me.” Leo’s voice was steady despite the arousal already pooling hot in his belly. “Green means go, yellow means slow down, red means stop.”

“Good boy.”

The praise washed over him like warm water. Two and a half years, and those two words still had the power to make his cock twitch, his breath catch, his whole body lean toward the source.

“We have something special planned for tonight,” Jax said, from somewhere behind him. Fingers traced down Leo’s spine, feather-light. “An anniversary present. Something you asked for a long time ago.”

Leo’s brow furrowed beneath the blindfold. Something he’d asked for? His mind cycled through possibilities—toys they hadn’t tried, positions they hadn’t explored, fantasies he’d whispered in the dark—

“The list,” Damon said. “Your original list. From the very first homework assignment.”

Oh.

Oh.

The list. Three items, written in shaky handwriting on a night when Leo had barely been able to admit his desires to himself:

1. I want to be held down. 2. I want to learn how to use my mouth properly. I want to be taught. 3. I want to be overwhelmed. I want you to push me past what I think I can handle. I want to be ruined.

They’d fulfilled all three, multiple times, in multiple ways. But Leo understood immediately what Jax meant. Not the individual items—all of them. At once. Tonight.

“You’re going to give us everything,” Damon continued, his voice dropping into that register that made Leo’s knees weak. “And we’re going to take it. Every last piece of you. Until there’s nothing left but sensation.”

“Until you’re ruined,” Jax added. “Properly. Thoroughly. The way you’ve always wanted.”

Leo was trembling already. His cock was fully hard, jutting out from his body, untouched and aching.

“Color?” Damon asked.

“Green.” The word came out rough. “So fucking green.”

“Then let’s begin.”

They started with his mouth.

Hands in his hair—Damon’s, big and firm—tilting his head back. Leo opened automatically, lips parting, tongue ready. He’d learned this lesson well over the years, had practiced until his gag reflex was a distant memory and his jaw could take anything they gave him.

But tonight they weren’t gentle about it.

Damon pushed in without preamble, filling Leo’s mouth in one smooth stroke. Leo moaned around him, the vibration making Damon’s grip tighten in his hair.

“That’s it.” Damon’s voice was strained. “Take it. All of it.”

Leo took it. Relaxed his throat, breathed through his nose, let Damon fuck his mouth with deep, controlled thrusts. Spit gathered at the corners of his lips, dripping down his chin. He didn’t care. He was beyond caring about anything except the weight on his tongue, the stretch of his jaw, the sounds Damon was making above him.

Behind him, Jax’s hands were busy.

Slick fingers pressed against his entrance, working him open with practiced efficiency. One finger, then two, then three, scissoring and stretching while Leo whimpered around Damon’s cock.

“So responsive,” Jax murmured. “Still, after all this time. Every time we touch you, it’s like the first time.”

Leo couldn’t respond—his mouth was full—but he pushed back against Jax’s fingers, desperate for more.

“Greedy.” Jax laughed softly. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. We’re going to give you everything.”

The fingers withdrew. Leo whined at the loss, but then something else was pressing against him—blunt, thick, slick with lube. Jax’s cock, nudging at his entrance.

“Ready?” Jax asked.

Leo nodded as best he could with Damon still in his mouth.

Jax pushed in.

The dual sensation was overwhelming—filled from both ends, stretched and claimed, nothing left that wasn’t being used. Leo’s whole body lit up, nerves firing, pleasure building. He was pinned between them, a conduit for their desire, and it was exactly where he wanted to be.

“Fuck, you feel good.” Jax’s voice was ragged. “D, you should feel him from this side. He’s clenching so tight.”

“He’s doing well from this side too.” Damon’s hand stroked through Leo’s hair, almost gentle. “Such a good boy. Taking everything we give him.”

They found a rhythm—Damon thrusting into Leo’s mouth as Jax pulled back, then switching, a constant push-pull that left no moment of emptiness. Leo floated on the sensation, surrendering completely, letting them use him.

But they weren’t done. Not even close.

“Item one,” Damon said, pulling out of Leo’s mouth. “You want to be held down.”

Before Leo could catch his breath, he was being moved—lifted, rearranged, pressed face-down onto the mattress. Someone—Damon—grabbed his wrists and pinned them above his head, holding them there with one big hand. Someone else—Jax—pushed his thighs apart from behind.

The blindfold stayed on. Leo couldn’t see anything, could only feel: the soft sheets against his chest, the iron grip on his wrists, the cool air on his exposed body.

“You can struggle,” Damon said, his voice dark. “We both know you can’t get free.”

Leo struggled. Twisted, pulled, tried to buck them off—not because he wanted to escape, but because the futility of it sent sparks shooting down his spine. Damon’s grip didn’t budge. Jax’s weight pressed down on his thighs, immobilizing him completely.

He was trapped. Held down. Helpless.

“That’s it.” Jax’s hand smoothed down his back, a contrast to the restriction. “Feel that? You can’t move. You can’t get away. You’re completely ours.”

Leo moaned into the mattress. His cock was trapped beneath him, grinding against the sheets with every involuntary twitch of his hips.

“Don’t come,” Damon warned. “Not yet. We’re nowhere near finished with you.”

They took turns.

First Jax inside him, fucking him with deep, hard strokes while Damon held him down and whispered filthy praise in his ear. Then switching—Damon’s thick cock stretching him wider, filling him fuller, while Jax held his wrists and traced maddening patterns on his skin.

Leo lost track of time. Lost track of everything except sensation: the relentless pleasure building at the base of his spine, the ache in his shoulders from being pinned, the constant full-empty-full rhythm of being used.

They edged him ruthlessly. Every time he got close—and he got close a lot, his body wound tight as a spring—they backed off. Changed positions. Switched who was inside him. Kept him hovering on the precipice without ever letting him fall.

“Please,” he begged, somewhere around the fifth or sixth edge. “Please, I can’t—I need—”

“What do you need?” Damon’s voice was steady, controlled, despite the fact that Leo could feel him trembling with restraint.

“I need to come. Please. Please.“

“Not yet.” Damon’s hand stroked his hair, gentling him. “You wanted to be overwhelmed, remember? You wanted us to push you past what you think you can handle.”

“We’re not there yet,” Jax added. “We’re not even close.”

Leo sobbed. Actually sobbed, tears soaking into the blindfold. His whole body was on fire, every nerve ending screaming, and they just kept going.

It was too much. It was everything he’d ever wanted. It was perfect.

The final act happened with Leo on his back.

They’d removed the blindfold at some point—Leo couldn’t remember when—and now he could see them above him: Damon’s gray eyes, dark with desire; Jax’s brown ones, bright with something almost predatory.

“One more thing,” Damon said. “The thing you asked for. The thing you wrote about wanting more than anything.”

Leo knew what was coming. They’d done it once before—graduation night—but not since. It was too intense, too overwhelming, reserved for special occasions.

Like tonight.

“Both of us,” Jax said, his voice rough. “At the same time. You want that, sweetheart?”

“Yes.” Leo’s voice was wrecked, barely a whisper. “Yes.“

They’d prepared him well—stretched him thoroughly, used enough lube to fill a swimming pool—but it still took time. Damon was inside him first, seated deep, holding still while Jax worked his way in alongside.

The stretch was incredible. Impossible. The most intense pressure Leo had ever felt, right on the edge of too-much.

“Breathe,” Damon reminded him. “We’ve got you.”

“Always,” Jax added, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “We’ve always got you.”

And then Jax was all the way in, and Leo was full—fuller than he’d ever been, split open on two cocks, unable to move or think or do anything except feel.

“Leo.” Damon’s voice was strained. “Look at me.”

Leo looked. Met those gray eyes that had seen him from the very beginning, that had never looked away.

“I love you,” Damon said.

“I love you too,” Jax echoed.

“I love you,” Leo managed, the words barely audible. “Both of you. So much. So much.“

They moved together.

It was clumsy at first—coordinating two bodies inside one—but they found their rhythm quickly. Deep, synchronized thrusts that made Leo see stars. Hands everywhere: on his chest, his thighs, his face. Mouths on his neck, his shoulders, his lips.

Leo was drowning. Overwhelmed in the best possible way, exactly like he’d asked for all those years ago. They were ruining him, taking him apart piece by piece, and he never wanted them to stop.

“Close,” Jax gasped. “Leo, I’m—”

“Me too.” Damon’s rhythm was faltering. “Leo. Come. Now.”

Leo came.

The orgasm ripped through him like lightning—white-hot and all-consuming, the most intense pleasure he’d ever experienced. He was distantly aware of his own voice, screaming their names, of his body clenching around them both. Then Jax was coming inside him, and Damon was following, and they were all falling apart together.

It went on forever. It was over too soon.

When Leo finally came back to himself, he was surrounded by warmth. Damon on one side, Jax on the other, their bodies pressed against his, their hands moving over him in soothing strokes.

“Hey there.” Jax’s voice was soft. “You back with us?”

“Mm.” Leo couldn’t form words yet. Could barely form thoughts.

“Take your time.” Damon pressed a kiss to his forehead. “We’ve got you.”

They lay like that for a long time—minutes, maybe hours. Leo drifted in and out of consciousness, safe in their arms, completely and utterly content.

“Happy anniversary,” he finally managed.

“Happy anniversary.” Jax grinned against his shoulder. “Same time next year?”

“Same time next year.”

“Good.” Damon pulled the blankets up around them. “Now sleep. You’ve earned it.”

Leo slept.

He dreamed of nothing but warmth, and love, and the two men who had taught him how to want.

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