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“The Victory Lap”

Set immediately after the championship parade

The confetti was still in Asher’s hair when they stumbled through the front door.

The championship parade had been everything—floats crawling down the Vegas Strip, hundreds of thousands of fans screaming their names, champagne spraying from every direction. They’d waved and smiled until their arms ached and their faces hurt, soaking in the adoration of a city that had adopted them as heroes.

But the real celebration was just beginning.

“Finally,” Damon growled, kicking the door shut behind them. “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting to get you two alone? Three hours on that float, watching Asher’s ass in those championship shorts, unable to touch.”

“The shorts were your idea,” Rylan pointed out, already pulling his parade jersey over his head. “You specifically requested the tight ones.”

“For exactly this moment. Delayed gratification.” Damon’s eyes raked over Asher with undisguised hunger. “Now I want my gratification.”

Asher laughed, already reaching for his own shirt. “So demanding. Is this how champions behave?”

“This is exactly how champions behave.” Damon crossed the space between them in two strides, capturing Asher’s mouth in a kiss that tasted like champagne and victory. “We’ve earned this. We’ve earned everything.”

Rylan appeared behind Asher, pressing against his back, his lips finding the sensitive spot behind Asher’s ear. “He’s right, you know. Three championships. Three years of proving everyone wrong. I think that deserves a very thorough celebration.”

“Define thorough,” Asher gasped as Rylan’s hands slid around to his chest, finding his nipples through the thin fabric of his t-shirt.

“I was thinking,” Rylan murmured, pinching lightly, making Asher arch into the touch, “that we’d take our time. Edge you for hours. Make you beg for release while we worship every inch of your body.”

“Hours?” Asher’s voice cracked on the word.

“We’re champions,” Damon said, his grin wicked. “We have stamina. Now—bedroom. I want you spread out on those sheets where I can appreciate you properly.”

They made it to the bedroom in stages, shedding clothes along the way. Asher’s shorts went first—Damon practically tore them off—followed by Rylan’s jeans and Damon’s parade tank top. By the time they reached the bed, they were all gloriously naked, skin flushed with arousal and anticipation.

“On the bed,” Rylan commanded. “Hands above your head. Don’t move them unless we tell you to.”

Asher obeyed, positioning himself in the center of the mattress, his arms stretched toward the headboard. The position left him exposed, vulnerable, completely at their mercy. His cock was already hard, curving up toward his stomach, eager for attention it wasn’t going to receive yet.

“Beautiful,” Damon breathed, climbing onto the bed beside him. “Our MVP. Our champion. Look at you.”

“Finals MVP,” Rylan corrected, settling on Asher’s other side. “Two years running. Do you know how rare that is? How special you are?”

“I had help,” Asher managed, his hips already trying to lift toward any available friction. “Championship teams win MVPs, not individuals.”

“Humble even now.” Damon leaned down, his tongue tracing a path from Asher’s collarbone to his nipple. “Let us appreciate you, Ash. You’ve earned it.”

They proceeded to do exactly that.

Four hands mapped his body like territory being claimed. Rylan’s mouth found one nipple while Damon’s found the other, twin sensations that made Asher writhe against the sheets. They sucked and bit and soothed, alternating pleasure and pain until Asher was gasping, his hands white-knuckled above his head with the effort of keeping still.

“Please,” he begged, though he knew it was too early. “Please, I need—”

“Not yet.” Rylan’s voice was gentle but firm. “We’re just getting started.”

They worked their way down his body with agonizing slowness. Kisses and licks and bites trailing across his ribs, his stomach, the sensitive hollows of his hips. Every time they approached his cock, they detoured at the last moment—Damon nuzzling into his thigh, Rylan pressing kisses to his hip bone—leaving him aching and untouched where he needed it most.

“You’re so responsive,” Damon murmured, his breath ghosting over Asher’s straining erection without making contact. “Every touch makes you shake. Every tease makes you moan. I could do this all night.”

“Please don’t,” Asher gasped. “Please, Damon, I need—”

“Tell us what you need.” Rylan’s hand traced lazy patterns on Asher’s inner thigh. “Use your words.”

“Your mouths,” Asher said desperately. “Your hands. Your cocks. Anything. Everything. Please, I’m going crazy.”

“Everything?” Damon exchanged a glance with Rylan. “That’s a big request.”

“I can take it. You know I can take it. Please.”

“He has been so good,” Rylan mused. “Keeping his hands in place. Not coming even though he’s clearly desperate.”

“MVP behavior,” Damon agreed. “I think he deserves a reward.”

Finally— finally—Damon’s mouth descended on Asher’s cock. The heat and wetness were overwhelming after so much denial, and Asher cried out, his hips bucking up into the sensation.

“Steady,” Rylan murmured, one hand pressing down on Asher’s hip to hold him still. “Let him set the pace.”

Damon’s pace was torturously slow. Long, deep pulls that took Asher to the root, followed by teasing flicks at the head. His tongue swirled and pressed and traced patterns that had no logic except to drive Asher insane.

Meanwhile, Rylan retrieved the lube from the nightstand. “I’m going to open you up,” he said, slicking his fingers. “Get you ready for us. But you don’t come until we say. Understand?”

“I understand,” Asher said, though he wasn’t sure he could actually obey. The combination of Damon’s mouth and Rylan’s first finger pressing inside him was already pushing him toward the edge.

“Good boy.” Rylan added a second finger, scissoring them gently, stretching Asher open. “So tight. Even after all this time, you’re still so tight for us.”

“Only for you,” Asher gasped. “Only ever for you two.”

“Damn right.” Damon pulled off Asher’s cock with an obscene pop. “You’re ours. This ass is ours.” He reached down, his fingers joining Rylan’s inside Asher. “This cock is ours. Every inch of you belongs to us.”

Four fingers now, two from each of them, stretching him wider than he’d ever been stretched. Asher keened, his body trembling with the effort of not coming, his cock weeping precum onto his stomach.

“I think he’s ready,” Rylan said, withdrawing his fingers slowly. “More than ready.”

“Please,” Asher begged. “Please, I need you inside me. Both of you. I need—”

“Shh.” Damon kissed him softly, at odds with the intensity of the moment. “We’ve got you. We always have you.”

They rearranged with practiced efficiency. Rylan lay on his back, pulling Asher on top of him, guiding himself inside with a groan. Asher sank down, taking him to the hilt, savoring the familiar stretch and fullness.

“Now,” Asher said, looking over his shoulder at Damon. “Please. I want all of you.”

Damon positioned himself behind Asher, his slicked cock pressing against where Rylan was already buried. “Breathe,” he instructed. “Relax and let me in.”

The pressure as Damon pushed inside was intense—it always was—but Asher had done this enough times now to know how to surrender to it. He breathed through the stretch, felt his body open and accept, and then Damon was there, both of them filling him completely.

“Fuck,” Rylan breathed. “You feel incredible. Both of you. So tight around me.”

“So full,” Asher gasped. “God, I feel so full. I can feel both of you. Every inch.”

“That’s the idea.” Damon began to move, shallow thrusts that had Asher seeing stars. “Take it, baby. Take everything we give you.”

They found their rhythm—Damon thrusting while Rylan rolled his hips, alternating so that Asher was never empty, never given a moment’s reprieve from the overwhelming fullness. The pleasure was almost too intense, every nerve ending alight, his cock trapped between his stomach and Rylan’s with just enough friction to drive him crazy.

“Close,” Asher warned, his voice wrecked. “I’m so close. Please, can I—”

“Not yet,” Rylan said, though his own voice was strained. “Hold on a little longer. We want to come together.”

“Can’t,” Asher gasped. “I can’t, it’s too much, I need—”

“You can.” Damon’s hand wrapped around Asher’s cock, squeezing at the base. “You can because we’re telling you to. Because you’re ours and you do what we say. Right?”

“Right,” Asher whimpered. “Yours. I’m yours.”

“Good boy.” Damon released his grip, his thrusts becoming faster, more urgent. “Now. Come for us now.”

The orgasm exploded through Asher like a supernova—white-hot pleasure radiating from his core, his cock pulsing untouched between their bodies, his inner muscles clenching around both of them. He screamed their names, or maybe just screamed, lost in sensation so intense it bordered on pain.

Rylan followed immediately, triggered by the rhythmic clenching of Asher’s body. He buried himself deep, pulsing his release with a shout that echoed through the room.

Damon lasted only seconds longer, the combined sensations overwhelming him. He thrust once, twice, three times more, then slammed home and came with a roar that vibrated through all three of them.

They collapsed together, a tangle of sweaty limbs and racing hearts. No one had the energy to move, to separate, to do anything but breathe and feel.

“That,” Asher said eventually, his voice hoarse, “was worth the wait.”

“Three hours of parade torture?” Damon chuckled weakly. “Absolutely worth it.”

“I meant the whole season,” Asher clarified. “Everything we went through. The injuries, the fear, the coming out. All of it led here. To this moment. Champions in every way that matters.”

“Sap,” Rylan accused, but his voice was warm.

“Your sap,” Asher agreed.

“Our sap,” Damon corrected, pulling them both closer despite the mess.

They lay there as their heartbeats slowed, championship confetti still scattered in Asher’s hair, the sound of the city celebrating outside their windows. Tomorrow would bring more parades, more interviews, more responsibilities. The foundation launch was next week. Contract negotiations loomed. Life would continue with all its complexities.

But tonight, there was only this: three men who had chosen each other, loved each other, built something beautiful together. Three champions, in every sense of the word.

“I love you,” Asher murmured, already drifting toward sleep. “Forever.”

“Forever,” Damon echoed.

“Forever,” Rylan agreed.

And in the quiet of their bedroom, surrounded by the evidence of their victory and their love, three hearts beat as one.

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