Erotic Spice - An Ongoing Story Blog

One week later Brandon was still in a world of pain but healing well. He was up, though moving slowly. His spirits were higher that day than they had been since he’d woken. He was allowed visitors during regular hours. The rules said only two at a time, but they were bent slightly for him. Bent a lot, completely broken when the entire station trooped in.

It was good to see everyone, but he was also glad when they went and he didn’t have to keep his cheer up and pretend he wasn’t in as much pain. His mother and his sister came and left shortly after the guys from the station. That had been hard. His mother was tough, but he knew she was reliving nightmares from his father’s death. Nothing he could do about it except let her reassure herself that he was still there.

Finally the person he had been waiting to see came. Brandon lay on his side, the only comfortable position he could find. He’d closed his eyes for a moment when he heard steps and knew it was Der. He looked up with a smile. “Hi, sweetheart.”

Der pulled a chair close to come down to eye level. He put on a bright grin. “Hey, handsome. You have some time for me or are you just too swamped right now?”

“I always have time for you,” Brandon said, reaching for Der’s hand. He hadn’t realized until that moment how much he’d missed him. A profound sense of peace settled over him as Der’s fingers closed around his.

“Oh, good. I was afraid I might have to call your people and make an appointment,” Der said on a soft chuckle. “I was here earlier but there was a whole firehouse full of large men in with you and I didn’t want to, ah, intrude. If it had just been Chris, that would have been one thing, but you know how meek and shy I am.”

Brandon laughed and the tight knot around Der’s heart loosened a few hundred degrees.

“Oh, I’ve missed your laugh, Bran. Damn, but I’ve missed you.” Der stroked up his arm and stopped. “Someone sure made a mess of you, though.” Iodine stains and bits of adhesive mottled Brandon’s forearm. “Who’s in charge of your sponge baths? I want a word with them.”

Brandon’s lopsided grin was slightly sheepish. “I, um, told the nurse not to make a fuss, I could do it myself. I tired out quicker than I thought.”

“Oh. Hmm.” Der’s forehead creased, then his smile returned. “How about with some help? I’ll be happy to play nurse for you. Or manservant. Kato to your Green Hornet? Hephaestion to your Alexander?”

“You could never be relegated to sidekick material, Kimosabe,” Brandon chuckled. “But I’ll take the help.”

Der bounced to his feet and held his arms out. “All right, then. Up you come.”

He let Brandon lean on him, got him the few steps to the bathroom and sat him down on the little shower seat. “Those pj’s, hon, have got to go.”

He helped Brandon undress and a quietness settled over them that was not altogether comfortable. Der because he wasn’t sure what to expect or how Brandon would feel and Brandon because he wasn’t sure how Der would react to seeing him scarred and weak.

“Have to be careful where it’s healing, not supposed to get the area wet yet,” Brandon said, his voice a little flat.

“Right. I do know the drill.” Der ran his claws back through Brandon’s hair. “Listen, gorgeous, I know this might be a weird question, but have you looked yet?”

Brandon made a soft sound. “I can’t believe you know me that well already,” he said, somewhere between astonished and guilty. “No, not really.”

Der gave him a crooked grin. “It’s not so much knowing you as knowing what happens after. Everybody has that ‘I need to look, I oh-so-don’t-want to look’ thing happen. It took Vincent three weeks before he could look in a mirror after his accident. And then he was relieved because he’d imagined so much worse.”

He took Brandon’s hands and pulled him up again. “Come on, Bran. Let’s get it done. You don’t have anything to worry about.”

Brandon let himself be pulled up and turned to look in the long mirror on the back of the door. What was weird was he saw the scars and damaged skin secondary. The first thing his eyes were drawn to was the tattoo of the angel, he had been afraid how much damage had been done to the artwork. To say he was amazed was an understatement.

He was burned mostly down his right side and hip and across his lower back, but for whatever reason the burns did not extend into the tattoo. She was intact, more than he’d dared hope.

“She was watching out for you,” Der told him in a tight, strained voice. “Thank all that’s holy someone was.” He drew in a huge sniff and when Brandon looked up, he tried to give him a smile through the stinging mist in his eyes.

He took Brandon’s face between his hands, his words catching in cracked whispers. “I thought I’d lost you. I love you so.”

Brandon was stunned to silence for a moment. “Der…” He breathed and had to look away. “Do you mean that?” It felt so unreal, to get this second chance. He remembered his last fleeting thought before he’d passed out while trapped by the fire was regret for not telling Der he loved him. He swallowed hard, trying to control the lump of emotion that rose up in his throat. “I love you, too,” he said in a husky whisper.

“Please don’t start crying, Bran, or I’ll start, too. ” Der pulled Brandon’s head to his shoulder. It was too late, of course. Tears already tracked down his cheeks. “I’m the dramatic one, remember? You’re supposed to be the sensible one.”

He sniffed again and rested his cheek on Brandon’s hair. “And of course I mean it. I have said it twice now. One time I might have been kidding or overwrought. But twice? Never.”

“Der…” Brandon couldn’t put into words what he wanted to say. He lifted his hand to cup Der’s face and kissed him with tender sweetness.

Careful of Brandon’s burned side, Der pulled him close and returned the kiss, keeping it soft and gentle. He pulled back before it could catch fire. Those things could wait. With a claw tip under Brandon’s chin, he kissed the tip of his nose. “Now then, you don’t smell so good and you certainly aren’t presentable for our date. Honestly, you should be ashamed of yourself.”

He helped Brandon back onto the shower seat, got a washcloth soaped and began a careful washing, one body part at a time so the healing burns would stay dry. He gave special attention to Brandon’s feet, then knelt and spread Brandon’s knees to get at the most sensitive parts.

Not that he wanted to get Brandon hot and bothered but it had been so long. He couldn’t help caressing those lovely balls a little as he washed them. Brandon’s cock started to expand under the soft touches and he couldn’t help one small kiss on the tip.

“Sorry,” he whispered when Brandon let out a frustrated moan.

He helped him dry off, climb into clean pj’s and back into bed. Poor Bran. His eyes were shadowed and exhausted, his movements so slow and careful.

“I think I better not stay too long this first time, hon,” Der said as he reached for the bag he’d brought. “But I did promise you a date the next time I saw you.”

He pulled the bed tray over where Brandon could reach. From his bag, he produced a battery-powered candle which he set on the tray and clicked on. The little electric flame jumped and danced. Then he pulled out a white linen napkin to spread over the tray and placed a white china plate in the center. The last item was a blue Tupperware container from which Der pulled two carefully iced chocolate cupcakes.

“There,” he said with a flourish. “I know they’re monitoring your intake and all of that but I figure one little cupcake won’t spoil your dinner.”

Miranda, Brandon’s day nurse, stood at the doorway and watched. She had been about to go in to do a vitals check but she stopped herself. There had been some concern over the firefighter. No wife came to visit, no fiancée, the nurses wondered if a girlfriend had dumped him because of his burns. But here, in the person of this large, scary-looking and obviously sweet man, lay the answer.

She turned and left them alone as Der picked up Brandon’s hand to kiss his fingers.

By the end of his second week in captivity (as Brandon had come to think of his hospital stay) he was frustrated and bored to tears. He was healing, the grafts had taken well, no infection had set in. He was still in some pain, but not as much. And he was damn tired of TV, crossword puzzles, and reading. He badly wanted out. He was an active, physical person and all this inactivity was making him nuts.

His one bright spot was Der. He came every day to see him and they talked until the nurses said it was time for him to go.

That afternoon Der wasn’t quite his usual, cheerful self when he came. Not surly by any means, simply pensive.

“Who’s taking care of you when they spring you, hon?” he asked.

“Um…nobody,” Brandon said.

Der’s forehead crinkled. He opened his mouth, closed it, looked down at his boots. “Oh. I guess I thought…never mind.” He swiped at imaginary lint on his black jeans, still unable to look up. “But, see, maybe it’s not a good idea for you to be alone. You can’t stretch to get stuff from the top of the fridge and, you never know, what if you faint in the shower or something? It’s not that I’m suggesting you can’t take care of yourself.”

He glanced up and back down quickly. “But maybe you might want to stay with me for a bit? Until you‘re on your feet again, that is. And all that…”

Brandon chuckled. “I’ve never heard anyone dance around something so much,” he said, and after a slight pause, “I would like to stay with you Der.”

“Oh. Oh, good.” Der blinked and then managed a little smile. “I didn’t want you to think…well, anyway, when’s the big day?”

Brandon ignored the question. “Der, is something wrong?”

“No.” Der said, trying for a more convincing smile. “I’m just hoping they let you out soon.”

Brandon didn’t look entirely convinced, but he let it go. “If everything’s still fine by Wednesday they’ll let me go.” Three more days. He didn’t know if he could stand it.

Der wandered out of the hospital deep in thought. Maybe he’d been thinking way too much lately. Bad habit. Led him down strange and hazardous paths.

He drove off and tooled around town aimlessly until he found himself parked in front of Elric’s house. “He’s probably busy. And this is silly, at any rate.” He got out, changed his mind, got back in, got out again and paced halfway up the walk before he returned to the car.

Sasha watched from the front window, perplexed. “Sir? Do you think we should invite him in or lasso him or something?”

Prince Elric glanced up from sorting his mail. “Ach, no, my dear. Let him sort through things first. He vill come to the door vhen he is ready.”

Eventually he made it to the front of the house and even managed to ring the bell. Sasha bounded over to open the door. “Der! What a nice surprise. His highness is done his appointments this afternoon. Did you want to talk to him?”

“Um…yes. I think I should.” He handed Sasha his coat and gave him an odd look. “You were watching, weren’t you?”

“N–no…yes.” Sasha hung his head. “I’m sorry.”

“S’all right, sweetpea. Guess it looked a little on the odd side.”

“He’s in the library.”

Der made his way there to find tea and pastries set out and the Prince in his favorite chair.

“So, so…herzchen, vhat hes you so stirred up today?”

“I’ve been thinking.” Derelict eased himself onto the formal sofa, hands clasped between his knees.

“Yes?”

“Well, it’s Brandon. And how I feel about Brandon. And how I felt when I thought he might be dying. And after that. And…I don’t know. I asked him to come stay with me after he’s discharged. Just to have someone there for him for a little. But then I thought…well, he said yes, to the staying for a little. But then I thought maybe I should ask for something more.”

Elric regarded him for a long moment, chill eyes giving nothing away. “Herzchen, you do recall, do you not, the last three people who hef lived vith you?”

“Well, yes, but–”

The Prince held up his hand. “You vill tell me this is different, ja? My dear, you hef said that each time. But Amelia vas too demanding and vished to control you, to know vhat you did each moment of each day. Georgie vas too dependent and clung to you as if he might drown otherwise. And Tamara.” He waved his hand. “I did tell you she vas unstable before she moved in.”

Der sighed and scrubbed his hands over his face. “Yes, sir. You did. I know. But this is different. He’s different. He’s wonderful, Sir. You’d like him.”

“Do not presume to tell me vhat I might like,” Elric said on a chill smile.

“Sorry, sir.”

“I vill only say this: be clear, my Derelict, if you esk this man to share his days vith you, vhat it is like to live vith you. Thet he might not hef all of your attention. Thet to keep you on a leash is disastrous.”

“Yes, sir.” Der swallowed hard. “I…I’m still not sure. But I’ll try to do better this time.”

The day Brandon was released from the hospital he was so happy he could almost forget it was still difficult to sit comfortably and his regular clothes felt strange and rested uneasily on newly healed skin.

When he had agreed to spend a few days at Der’s he had done so mainly because he simply wanted to spend the time with him. By the time they got to the apartment he was starting to think he actually might need the help. This worried him.

Doing nothing in the hospital hadn’t really shown him the extent of his injuries. Just doing normal things he began to see how bad it really was. Not since he was a child was he unable to do everything for himself. To realize that he just might have to depend on Der for a little while was disconcerting. Not that Der seemed to mind at all, he seemed quite happy playing nurse.

“What do you want for dinner, handsome?” Der asked late that afternoon. “Whatever you want. If I don’t have it, I’ll go out and get it. Despite what a certain Mr. Kemp says, I can cook.”

“Anything you want to make is fine, just so long as it doesn’t resemble hospital food please. No meatloaf, and no jell-o,” he said with a grin.

Der returned the grin and recalled the other two things Brandon could not stand. “All righty, then. Brussel sprouts and overcooked cabbage it is.” He laughed when he got a swat for that.

He stuck to hearty and simple, pot roast with potatoes and carrots, baked apples and, of course, chocolate cake to celebrate Brandon’s liberation. They devoured in happy silence and then stretched out on the sofa together, stuffed and content.

Der stroked Brandon’s hair, warmth settling in his belly. He didn’t really want to disturb the moment’s peace but if he kept putting it off, things would just start getting weird.

“Bran? Can I ask you something?”

“As long as it doesn’t involve getting up off the couch,” he teased.

“No, not immediately.” Der lifted his head to kiss the top of Brandon’s hair. “OK, I’ve been percolating this for a bit now and I guess my question is truly a multi-part. A hydra question. Every time I think I’ve pinned one part down, another piece grows. Anyway, here we are: have you ever lived with anyone, how did it work out, and how do you feel about living with someone in the future, for example, me, understanding that I’m not the most traditional person where it comes to relationships and all that?”

Brandon turned to look at him. “Der…are you…are you asking me to move in with you?”

“Now, see, that’s not fair answering a question with a question.”

Brandon took a moment to collect his thoughts. “No, I suppose it isn’t. Um, yes, I have lived with someone before.” He shrugged. “We didn’t…it wasn’t…well, it wasn’t the right time or the right person. It didn’t last long. I know I could live with someone again, if that someone was you.” He paused. “I’m just not sure it would be the right thing for you.”

“I’m not either, hon.” Der said in a rare moment of frank seriousness. “And I guess that’s why I didn’t just blurt out the question, which is what I wanted to do last week. I’m crazy in love with you, Bran. That’s not the issue. Problem is there are several people who have rooms and nooks in my heart, some I see on a regular basis and some once in a while.”

He sat up to take Brandon by the shoulders. “I’ve been really stupid before, with falling in love. But I’ve learned. And I know I’m not real good at being a one-person kind of man. And, well, most people don’t want to deal with that. The biggest thing that worries me is that I’d hurt you.” He brushed a stray lock of hair back from Brandon’s forehead. “That’s the last thing I want to do.”

Brandon’s expression was as serious as Der had ever seen it.

“I have to think about this, Der,” he said softly. He didn’t want to blurt out the first thing that crossed his mind either. Right now, at this moment, he could see it. He could see them living together, and still carrying on with their lives. But what about a month from now? Or a year? Would he feel the same? Would it matter to him, or not, if he had to share Der with someone, or several someones? He didn’t know. Right now he sort of felt okay about it, but he didn’t know if that would change.

He saw Der’s expression and decided telling him he needed to think about it wasn’t going to be enough. He needed to tell him the rest of his thoughts, or there might be misunderstandings and that was never a good thing. “I’m not normally a jealous, possessive asshole, Der. Right now I think it would be okay, but it’s sort of like I’m still in dating mode. If…if we were living together, and I came home one day and you were with someone else…I don’t know how I’d feel about it, honestly.” Actually, it made his heart ache a little to think about it. Not a good sign.

Der kept combing his claws through Brandon’s hair because his fingers needed something to do. Make it clear, the Prince had said. Leave nothing unspoken.

“It’s not…see…” He stopped, took a breath and tried again. “If we did this. If. It’s not like I’d be out clubbing every night, banging anything with a heartbeat in the back rooms, bringing home strangers to mess up our bed. I don’t…operate like that. I can’t.”

He got up, not quite agitated but getting there in his anxiety to say things right the first time. “And if you were here, I wouldn’t be lonely and I wouldn’t need the occasional one night stand. And if I was going to be with someone else, it wouldn’t necessarily mean you wouldn’t be with me. And you’d know anyone else I have any contact with, I’d make sure of that.”

He paced back to Brandon and dropped to his knees to take both his hands. “In this kind of relationship, there have to be rules. Vincent has a few crucial ones. Prince Elric has a few hundred. We could…you could tell me what the rules need to be.”

“Me?” Brandon said, wide eyed. “You want me to set down the rules?” he asked with a softly incredulous chuckle. “I don’t know Der… Maybe we could, uh, figure it out together?”

Der put his head in Brandon’s lap with a soft sigh. “Yes, that’s what I meant. That is, I want you to tell me what would help you feel comfortable and happy and secure and so on.” He nuzzled at Brandon’s thigh. “OK, we’ll start with a simple one. Let’s say I’m out with friends. What time does the clock say when you start worrying?”

“Ten o’clock.” Brandon answered in total seriousness. Der picked his head up and looked at him and Brandon burst out laughing. “I’m kidding. I’m sorry.” He kissed him lightly, then again with warmth. “I don’t know Der. I mean, I’m not your mom. If you’re gonna be out all night just tell me, or call and tell me.”

Brandon paused a second to gather his thoughts. “Why don’t you tell me what would be ideal for you. Tell me how you want it to be, and I’ll either agree, or we can talk about it…okay? I’d feel like a jerk just giving you a bunch of rules.”

“Aw, damn, and here I thought I’d finally found the man who could collar, leash and beat me,” Der said with a sigh. He grinned at Brandon’s flummoxed expression. “Kidding, darlin’, sorry.”

He sat back on his heels with a thoughtful frown. “I guess really it just comes down to courtesy. We’d know each other’s schedules. If someone won’t be home for dinner, a phone call’s only polite. If either of us is planning on being with someone else, in the primal urges sense, once again, a phone call sounds like the right thing. No bareback jaunts with anyone else. No casual one-offs. So far, so good?”

Brandon ran a hand though his hair. “This feels strange. Setting ground rules about who your boyfriend can sleep with…” As soon as he said it he stopped. Was Der his boyfriend? He met his eyes and got lost for a second. “It feels a little strange to…to put everything out there like this, but I think that’s just because I’ve never met anyone willing to be so honest.” He smiled. “I think I can handle that.”

He lifted his hand to Der’s cheek “I love you, Der.” He kissed him, his fingers caressing along his cheek and into his hair, and he was suddenly reminded how long it had been.

A hard rush of need shivered through Der. “I love you, too, Bran.” He traced a claw tip over Brandon’s undamaged side. “And I missed you. Do you feel up to something slow and sweet? Or is it too soon?”

“Mmm…” Brandon hummed against the side of Der’s throat. “Let’s find out what I’m up to,” he murmured as he nibbled and sucked the tender skin at the base of his neck.

Der let out a soft moan. The room spun for a moment while all the blood rushed from his head. He shifted closer to slide his arms under Brandon and lifted him to carry him to the bedroom. Still quite an armful but Brandon had lost weight during his hospital stay. Der had to swallow the sudden lump in his throat. He would just have to spoil him rotten until he was back to his fighting weight again.

Der laid him down on the bed and undressed him with slow deliberate care. Brandon simply relaxed and watched him. His eyes stayed glued to his every move when he straightened and removed his own clothes. So gorgeous, that body. He loved every line and muscle and all of his art.

As he knelt on the edge of the bed Brandon reached for him, letting his hand slide down his chest and abdomen, his fingers circling around the base of his cock and stroking lightly.

Der lunged forward, supporting himself on straight arms on either side of Brandon’s head. “Rrrrrr–rrruff,” he growled on a little snap of teeth. “You do things like that and my brain might go into meltdown.”

“Ah good, my evil plan to not let you regain your senses is working perfectly,” Brandon said in his best supervillain voice. He put a hand at the back of Der’s neck and pulled him down for a slow and very hot kiss.

“Mmmm…oh dear gods, I missed your kisses,” Der murmured when he came back up for air. He eased a knee between Brandon’s thighs to nudge his legs apart and knelt between. One hand stole up to cup the side of Brandon’s face while the other still held him up. He wasn’t entirely sure how he was going to accomplish the whole thing but he was determined to do it without hurting him.

Brandon discovered at that moment that as eager as he was, his body was not exactly happy with the position. He’d only recently been able to sleep on his back, and having his leg moved to one side was pulling at the newly healed skin in an uncomfortable way. “Der…I don’t think I can keep my leg like this.”

Der instantly moved, issuing a string of concerned apologies, which Brandon hushed with kisses and reassurances. “Shh, come here.” He pulled Der back into his embrace as he rolled to his side. They kissed for long moments and let their hands roam, reacquainting themselves with sensual places they had missed. After a while Brandon settled back on the pillows and coaxed Der up to straddle his chest. “Come here… I want to taste you.” He breathed as he urged Der up higher, so he knelt directly in front of his face. “That’s better.”

Much better, Brandon thought, as he wrapped his fingers around Der’s shaft and licked over the smooth head of his cock. His mouth watered as he took him inside.

Der’s head fell back on a heartfelt moan, the ends of his hair brushing over Bandon’s stomach. He stayed still, letting Brandon do as he pleased, claws combing gently through his thick hair. When that lovely tongue teased at one the silver balls decorating his shaft, though, his hips jerked.

“Oh…man…that feels so incredible…”

Brandon pulled himself up a little farther, so the back of his head was against the headboard. His hand glided up over Der hips and over the taut globes of his ass. Der leaned forward, his hands grasping the top of the headboard and Brandon flexed his hands on Der, pulling him in and kneading his cheeks, urging him to a rhythm as his mouth moved up and down on him.

A little whimper rose from Der’s chest as the pleasure climbed at dizzying speed. He looked down between his arms, Brandon’s lips wrapped around his cock just about the hottest sight he could imagine.

A finger teased at his backdoor. He drew in a hissing breath. The pad of Brandon’s finger breached the entrance gently and his hips suddenly pumped faster, his breath coming in panting gasps. “Gods…Bran…I can’t…I’m coming…like a freaking freight train…”

Brandon let out a whimper of his own as the first bittersweet spurt spilled over his tongue. The fingers of his one hand tightened on Der’s cheek, with the other pushed deeper into his spasming back channel. Brandon kept his lips sealed tightly around his shaft until Der was shuddering and crying out and drained dry. Only then did he gently pull back.

Both hands gripped white-knuckle on the headboard, Der fought not to collapse on top of Brandon. He fought his lungs for a full breath and then another, willing the room to stop until he could ease his shaking body over to one side. He stroked a finger over Brandon’s chest, a lazy smile on his lips. “Would you strangle me in my sleep if I rolled over and said goodnight?”

“Strangle you, no, but I don’t know how much sleep you’d actually get.” Brandon murmured huskily, nudging Der’s lips in a lingering kiss.

“Oh, I don’t know. I’m a pretty deep sleeper,” Der teased though his wandering hand made it clear he had no such intention.

His long fingers wrapped carefully around Brandon’s cock, claws held out of the way, and he surged up to plant soft, sucking kisses down his ribs.

Brandon’s hips rolled up automatically, a soft groan at his lips. The roll was cut short as tender skin pulled at his hip in warning not to move that way. With a small sound of frustration he willed himself to stay still. He was so hot for Der, wanted him so bad, wanted to come so damn bad, wanted to feel his lips and tongue caressing him, and he couldn’t move how he wanted to.

“My poor love,” Der murmured. “Maybe you need a little help so you don’t hurt yourself.”

He reached over and snagged the t-shirt he’d worn that day and smoothed his hands down Brandon’s arms until he had them both in front. No way in hell was he fastening his arms above his head. Bran couldn’t lift his arms above his shoulders yet. Instead he tied them in front so he could hold them down with one hand against Brandon’s chest. He slid one long leg on top of Brandon’s to clamp them down on the bed and then lowered his head to lick over the tip of Brandon’s rock hard erection.

“Uhhh! God…” Brandon moaned. “Der…mmm.” He could still flex a little, which he did urgently, but it didn’t hurt. It felt a little strange not to be able to move freely, but also arousing.

“Much better,” Der whispered. He caressed whisper soft over Brandon’s balls and wrapped his lips around his cock, teasing and licking a few inches at a time.

Brandon reflexively tried to push up into his mouth, but had to settle for what Der was willing to give as he inched his way down. “Oohhh… That feels so good sweetheart,” he purred. “So damn good…”

Der’s only answer was a pleased little growl. He let his teeth touch just under the flange and then plunged down to let Brandon bump against the back of his throat.

It didn’t take much more of that to have Brandon panting, his head spinning with pleasure. “Yeah… oh, yeah, oh god that’s gonna make me come… go faster…” Brandon groaned as Der complied. He gave a wordless cry as he started to come hard.

Der moved his head back so he could swallow, moaning at the taste of Brandon on his tongue. He sucked greedily as if he had been parched, dying of thirst without him. Only when Brandon relaxed under him and all his little twitches stilled did he let that lovely cock go.

He rolled to his back so Brandon could nestle against him on his side.

Brandon stroked a warm hand over Der’s chest and closed his eyes. Their earlier conversation came back to him. Was he serious about Der? Yes. Serious enough to live with him? Yes. Even if that meant sharing him? Maybe.

He saw where his thoughts were leading. Sooner or later, whether he lived with Der or not, the sharing thing was going to be an issue. Der had made it pretty plain that having other lovers was part of the package deal with him. If Brandon couldn’t handle that he was going to have to stop seeing him, it was that simple. The thought of not seeing Der anymore weighed heavy on him. Could he accept the rules they’d talked about?
For Der, he thought he could. “Der?”

“Mmm?”

“It’s a good thing I’m not allergic to cats.”

“Yes…yes it is,” Der said in a sleepy murmur. Then his hand stopped in Brandon’s hair. “Wait. Hold up. That was a yes, wasn’t it?”

He twisted to look at Brandon. “Was it a yes?”

Brandon chuckled and lifted his head to kiss Der warmly. “Yes, that was a yes.”

Brandon hummed happily as he ran the towel over the last bit of chrome on the truck. The red and silver ladder truck gleamed so bright in the sunshine it was hard to look at without squinting. The rest of the guys were already emptying buckets, collecting towels and brushes, and stowing things away. Brandon backed the truck into its spot and went through the final check list with the LT.

Afterwards he hit the shower to clean up before heading out. He was still humming happily when he got out and was drying off in front of his locker.

“So who’s the lucky guy?” Chris asked.

Brandon looked over at him, his expression puzzled, and then sheepish. “What makes you ask that?”

“C’mon, Brandon. You’ve been walking around on clouds and humming like an over sexed fairy godmother for two weeks. Somebody’s got their hands in your cookie jar… or vise versa,” Chris said.

Brandon actually blushed. He hadn’t realized he’d been that obvious. Of course, Chris was one of the few guys at work who knew he was gay, hence why he’d asked who the guy was and not the girl. Chris was pretty open, too, for a straight guy.

He couldn’t help the lopsided grin that spread over his face as he thought of Der. They’d been spending quite a bit of time together since the day he’d called to apologize for blowing him off after the party. A lot of time. And all of it good. Not just the sex, that was fantastic, but he liked talking to Der, just being with him made him feel damn good.

“Holy shit,” Chris blurted out.

“What?” Brandon asked, startled.

“I thought you were just getting laid, but that look says you’re in L-O-V-E.”

Brandon snorted. “I’ve only known him for a few weeks.” He pulled on his boxer briefs and jeans. “I like him a lot, though.”

“Yeah, yeah. Bullshit. You can stay in denial all you want buddy-boy, I know the look,” Chris teased. “So, who is he?”

“He’s a guy I met. Nice guy. Not a drama queen or just curious. He’s sweet. He has cats.”

“Oh-ho… and does Mr. Nice Guy have a name?”

Brandon hesitated. “Derek Schiller.”

Chris frowned. “Do I know that name?”

“He’s the guy who got stabbed at the arson fire scene a couple months ago,” Brandon answered.

Chris’s head came up. “Brandon…”

He held up his hand. “I know, I know. But it’s not like that. He doesn’t have a hero thing going on. We just clicked, that’s all.”

“Hrmph,” Chris said, not wanting to say anything but clearly not convinced. “Well, just watch your back man.”

Brandon grinned. “Always.” He finished dressing and closed the locker, eager to get out now. It was Friday, he had the weekend off, and Der had asked him to head over after work.

#

“Nnnooo, I am not,” Der repeated into the phone. “Look, pretty Jon, if you’re jealous, you could just tell me.”

“Oh, please. Get over your damn self,” Jonathan huffed. “I just wanna be sure you’re not all starry-googoo eyed for the wrong reasons.”

Der opened his mouth to say something smart and snapped it shut. He managed a serious answer instead. “I thought it was a rescuer crush, too, at first. And that was OK by me. He’s a gorgeous fantasy and I didn’t mind living in one for a smidge. But, no, he’s become a living, breathing person. A friend. Someone I like to talk to. And he has the most beautiful eyes–”

Jonathan snorted. “Oh, you got it bad, Schiller. You watch yourself. Don’t leave yourself open for something awful.”

“Jon, you do care.”

“I just don’t want you bawling all over me again. It’s disgusting.”

The doorbell rang. Der said his goodbyes with a huge grin and bounded to the door.

Brandon greeted him with a kiss and a small box wrapped in gold foil and ribbons.

“Oooo, for me?” Der cooed and batted his eyes in his best coquette imitation.

Brandon grinned and followed Der inside to the living room. “It’s just something I thought you’d like.” He sat on the couch and let Elektra hop into his lap. Fortunately she’d forgiven him for his initial wariness.

Der untied the ribbons carefully, then used a claw to slice neatly through the tape. His eyes went wide. “Neuhaus…” he breathed. The little box before him brought back memories of visits from his Oma and the wonderful presents she would bring. The label promised manon pralines, the most incredible Belgian chocolates.

“Bran, it’s…wonderful…it’s…” He glanced up a bit sheepishly. “It’s expensive.”

Brandon shrugged, returning the sheepish smile. “It wasn’t that much. And it’s worth it to watch the look you get on your face when you savor something.”

“Oh. Well. I suppose that’s fair,” Der said on a soft chuckle. He opened the box and closed his eyes as the heavenly scent wafted up to him. “Oh…gods…” A little shiver ran through him. He opened his eyes to find Brandon watching him and his smile turned softer. “Share one with me?”

Brandon smiled too and picked one of the chocolates out. He held it out for Der to take in his mouth and then closed the distance to bite the other half, ending in a soft chocolaty kiss. The sweetness of the chocolate was eclipsed by the look on Der’s face, and right then and there he realized Chris was right. He had to drop his eyes or he was going to say something stupid.

“Bran…” Der licked his lips, wondering what had prompted the sudden flush on Brandon’s cheeks. He didn’t want to ruin such a lovely moment though or embarrass Brandon further, whatever thought had hit him. Instead he combed a claw back through thick dark hair and said, “Thank you.”

His hand slid to the back of Brandon’s neck and pulled him in for a more serious kiss.

“You’re welcome…” Brandon whispered against Der’s lips in between heated kisses. He hadn’t meant to walk in the door and hop right into bed (not that it didn’t happen on occasion when he saw Der) but he wasn’t exactly against the idea either. He slid his hands into Der’s hair and kissed him hard and deep. The chocolates were quickly set aside and they tangled around each other on the couch.

“You’re so damn sexy,” Der whispered against his throat, hands already plunging beneath Brandon’s shirt to run over hard-packed abs. “I was going to suggest dinner but–oh, dear gods…” He moaned as Brandon tugged on his nipple ring.

He pressed Brandon back against the sofa to stretch out atop him. His tongue delved into that sweet, hot mouth and he forgot what he was saying for a few delicious moments. “Dinner,” he panted when he came up for air. “Right…we could have a quickie first or if you feel a little masochistic and want to wait until we’re both hormone crazed savages, that works, too.”

“Hormone crazed savages… yeah, that works.” Brandon murmured while he pulled Der’s shirt off and lifted his hips to grind his crotch against Der’s. He slid his hands down Der’s long muscled back to the rise of his butt and squeezed while his tongue slid back into his mouth.

Der pulled back with a laugh that turned into a soft moan as Brandon’s hands slid lower. “Wait, wait, you’re confusing me. Does that mean you want it before dinner or after?”

“Yes.”

“Ah. Goody.” He planted heated kisses along Brandon’s jaw, sucking gently, while his hands worked the t-shirt up Brandon’s ribs. “Bran? Let me take you tonight? You’re so delicious. I’m having terrible, wicked thoughts about you.”

Desire pooled in Brandon’s middle and he swore he felt the blood rush from one head to the other. He had been having fun with being the top. Der made it fun and exciting and very satisfying. His reactions were so wonderful, so hot… “Oh yes…” he breathed. “You can be as wicked as you want to me.”

“You always know just the right thing to say,” Der said with a wink. He rose and pulled Brandon up to lead him to the bedroom. Not that he needed a bed for sex but that’s where all the toys were. His voice had dropped to a husky growl by the time he let Brandon’s hands go to rummage in the drawer. “Strip for me, handsome.”

Brandon did so, taking his time while Der rummaged around choosing the items he wanted. Brandon watched with curiosity and rising arousal, and maybe a hint of nervousness as Der set cuffs and blindfold on the floor. When he was naked he came around to sit on the edge of the bed.

A spreader bar and what looked like a belt festooned with metal rings joined the other items. Der walked on his knees to Brandon and took his hands. “Bran, do you trust me? I’d never hurt you. I’d never leave you trussed up alone. But I don’t want to do anything that makes you nervous or unhappy.”

God, he was just the sweetest guy Bran had ever known, he thought with a smile. “I’m a little nervous, but not a bad kind of nervous.” He kissed Der lightly. “An excited kind of nervous.” He said, his voice dropping and octave to a husky murmur. “And I do trust you Der, completely.”

Der’s sharp-toothed smile was so delighted, so completely without guile, Brandon couldn’t help a little laugh.

“You could melt the heart of a frost giant,” Der said and kissed his nose. He got up and placed a large, wedge-shaped cushion in the center of the bed. Then he returned to Brandon and fastened the wide leather belt around his waist while he brushed soft kisses along his jaw. “Come on up on the bed, handsome. Face down. Up across here.”

When Brandon lay on his stomach with his hips elevated by the cushion, Der fastened the blindfold. He knelt by Brandon a few moments, stroking his hair, making sure he seemed relaxed still. “You get to a place where you have to stop, for any reason, you tell me, OK? Der, I need to stop.”

Brandon nodded, some tension in his jaw but not too much. Der spread his ankles apart a bit more than shoulder width and fastened on the leather cuffs of the spreader bar. Brandon squirmed against his cushion, a good sign. Then he pulled Brandon’s wrists gently behind his back, kissing and licking the insides, and fastened on the handcuffs. The short chain of the cuffs clipped to the back of Brandon’s belt, leaving him completely trussed and helpless.

Brandon shifted, tentatively testing the limits of his movement. His breath came a little shallower and he wasn’t sure he exactly liked the feeling of restriction. It got Der so hot to be tied up, but Brandon wasn’t sure. He wasn’t panicked, he didn’t feel uncomfortable, just…uncertain. And a little excited. The blindfold heightened his other senses in a way he hadn’t expected either. The feel of Der’s hand on him felt somehow heavier, or just that he was ultra aware of every place he touched.

“You’re so gorgeous,” Der whispered as he bent to place soft kisses on Brandon’s shoulder. “And you look so damn sexy like this. I think I could come just looking at you.”

He traced a claw gently over the angel’s wings on Brandon’s back, then slid both hands up to knead his broad shoulders. His erection stood out ramrod straight, a pearl drop already glistening from the tip. On a sudden impulse, he turned to face Brandon’s feet, straddled his chest and started to kiss and lick his perfect, muscular butt.

Brandon’s body rolled gently under Der’s tender ministrations. The cushion rubbed against his cock and Der’s kisses had him aching with anticipation for more.

The body language was more than enough invitation for Der. He gripped Brandon’s butt cheeks, pulled them apart and licked a cool wet line down the valley to his puckered star.

Brandon’s breath caught and released with a hot groan. The chain that held his hands in place clinked as he unconsciously tried to move to caress Der. The muscles of his legs tightened, feeling the spreader bar and how he could not close his legs. He was not struggling but definitely squirming against the unfamiliar bonds. He still wasn’t afraid, but he had to admit he felt more vulnerable than he had ever felt in his life.

Der’s supple tongue flicked and wriggled over his tight clenched hole and he felt the tip push inside. It was like he pushed a magic button, the muscles of his butt relaxed in Der’s hands as his ring fluttered and opened to the intrusion. His hip’s moved a little more urgently, grinding his cock into the pillow under them. He was getting really hot, really quick.

The squirming turned Der’s burners up to high as well. Not to mention Brandon’s scent when he got all turned on. He shoved his tongue in farther, teasing and readying, making sure Brandon was nice and wet.

When Brandon was issuing continuous moans, he withdrew his tongue and turned around. He held himself off Brandon and leaned in to nuzzle the back of his neck. “Bran…tell me no if it’s no. But I get tested regularly. And I’m careful as hell. And I’m willing to bet it’s the same with you. Want to go au natural this time?”

Brandon was about ready to dissolve into a steaming puddle of goo he was so fuckin turned on. Der’s words vibrated against his skin and made him dizzy with need. “Yes…” His own voice came out small and tight with restrained desire. “Oh god yes… please Der. I want you so much.”

A lump lodged in Der’s throat that this wonderful, beautiful man trusted him so much. He kissed Brandon’s shoulder and repositioned himself to press his cock against the tight entrance. He rolled slowly, pressing in by easy degrees rather than taking him in a sudden thrust.

Brandon writhed in the bonds now, lost to anything but the sensations Der created in him. The slow careful entry, the way the tips of his claws traced over his skin, the heat of his breath on the back of his neck… god, he was drowning in him and he loved every second.

This was more than just fun, more than just sexual attraction, certainly more than just fucking. Der curled around him, wrapped his arms around him, glided in and out in sensual strokes and Brandon loved him like a lightning blot had struck him with it.

He didn’t know how long went by. Long minutes of tender sweet alternating with blazing hot had Brandon so damn ready. He bucked with Der’s thrusts, driving his cock into the softness of the pillow. “Oh, god…Der, I’m gonna come, ohhhh, I’m coming.” The burst when he came was so intense he cried out in a low howl of pleasure, his body shuddering and straining in the bonds that held him.

A distant part of Der was shocked by the intensity of it. Brandon was passionate and heated in his lovemaking but this was a whole new level of passion. The rest of Der was too busy riding the heaving body beneath him, the sight of Brandon’s orgasm destroying any last shred of control.

“Brandon…you’re so incredible…” he gasped out as his orgasm slammed up from his balls.

Brandon rolled with Der’s slowing pulses until they both lay still and panting. His weight on his back was heavenly. Eventually though Der pulled out and undid the cuffs and spreader bar binding him and took off the blindfold. Brandon was docile as a puppy in his arms. So happily content he could have lain there forever. He lay with his head on Der’s chest, and though his heart was singing and his lips kept wanting to form the words, his thoughts kept them from escaping.

He knew Der liked him, cared for him, but he wasn’t sure yet if he would react…badly, to the ‘L’ word. Was it too soon? Maybe. He wasn’t one of those guys who had to hear it from his partner first, but he was cautious.

He finally lifted his head and kissed Der sweetly. “Want to get dinner now? Then we can come back and trade places, hm?”

Der gave him a hard squeeze. “You’re amazing. I don’t even have to say anything. You already know what I’m thinking.”

They did a cursory clean up, got dressed again and walked down the street to a casual little café where the staff knew Der and greeted him without alarm or suspicion. He wanted a comfortable, known quantity that evening. Something was off about Brandon, not aloof by any means but a sort of holding something back.

He resolved not to push or pry and instead led him from one non-threatening topic to another. Stories about his father led to stories about his pets over the years and on to hilarious ones about old lovers and the ways in which Elektra had shown her absolute disdain for some of them.

Brandon expressed his gratitude for the Elektra seal of approval. He felt so at ease talking to Der, more so than anyone in a long time. He told Der some things from when he was growing up. How he’d known since he was about seven years old that he wanted to follow in his father’s footsteps and be a firefighter. They went through some of the awkward stories of when he’d known he was gay and telling his family and how he had to be careful at work still.

They traded stories about when they’d gotten their ink and laughed about what people must see when they looked at the pair of them. The evening rolled into night, and then the next day. When Der asked him to stay Brandon didn’t mind spending his whole weekend with Der at all.

Monday and back to work came much too soon.

Der kissed him goodbye in his underwear, sleepy-eyed and yawning since his mornings didn’t usually start at six a.m. What he wanted to do was fling his arms around Brandon and ask him not to go but he had no idea where the impulse came from. Brandon couldn’t just blow off work like some people did. He had important work to do.

So Der gave him a sleepy smile and let him go.

#

Every fire was bad, no doubt about that, but certain fires were worse than others. Every firefighters’ worst nightmare involved certain dreaded words. Like, apartment building. And, oh god, how much worse when that apartment building was in a slum in the middle of the night and probably most of the apartments didn’t have working smoke detectors or fire escapes.

The complex billowed black from upper story windows and orange flames licked out of others. This truly was the worst of the worst. The building was at ignition point, where any moment the balance might tip and engulf it in an inferno. Their job was to keep that from happening while at the same time taking that very risk it might by searching for unaware or trapped victims.

Time hung suspended in a blackened, smoke-filled blur for Brandon. He was on search and rescue, each apartment needed to be cleared while other men battled the fire from outside. Teams were dispatched to each floor, the upper levels, closest to the fire were the most dangerous and also the most imperative to clear.

Brandon hadn’t the least bit of fear or worry. There was no time for it and he trusted his team. He had to, they all depended on each other. The heat was intense, every door a potential trap. They heard through the radio that the top two levels were now engulfed, they were to go no higher. Almost on the heels of this news they saw the beast itself, rolling in tattered, dirty orange across the ceiling.

The LT gave the order to pull back. “There’s two more apartments, sir. We can clear them,” Brandon said on the com.

There was no pause, no time to think, the LT had to trust his men, too. “Hurry.” Which was unnecessary but gave his permission. The one on the right was cleared quickly. They opened the one on the left and made a quick search and then things went from bad to much worse. They found people. Time began to speed and slow simultaneously.

Overcome by smoke, the woman was unconscious. Her daughter, hardly more than a toddler had stayed low, crouched over her mother in terror. They were snatched up quickly. Brandon, the last to leave the apartment, scanned the floor with his light and spotted a small lump of fur. In this situation pets were not priority, the building must be cleared and the fire contained before animals were rescued. But Brandon knew there would be no time for this little guy later. He heard the fire now, that muted roar overhead.
This floor would be lost too before they got it out, and he was the cat’s only chance.

He snatched the kitty up and moved his ass. His team was already ahead of him. The fire in the hall had eaten through the ceiling, old timbers and plaster no match for its ferocity. Brandon tucked the cat into his coat on the run, it was alive but probably suffering from smoke inhalation since it didn’t fight at all.

He didn’t see the beam come down, he dimly felt it as it crashed across his shoulders, knocking him off his feet. He felt the heat though, even through the layers of fire resistant clothing. His arms had crossed in front of him instinctively as he fell to protect the little ball of fur he clutched to his chest and now they were trapped under his weight and the weight of the fiery beam pinning him down. For the first time in a fire he felt fear touch him like stealthy licks of flame. He could hear his team through the com, but he couldn’t see them anymore, the black smoke in the hall was now a thick impenetrable wall. He didn’t feel the heat anymore, and then he didn’t feel anything.

Chris was the first to notice Brandon wasn’t with them and urgently called a halt. The hall behind them was closing over in flame and almost to the point that it was too dangerous to go back. He frantically called over the com that they were missing Brandon and turned to charge back into the thick smoke. As he did he saw the beam come down, and he knew, he just knew Brandon had been taken underneath. Then he saw him, what the fire lit enough to see the form trapped under the beam.

Two of their team had the woman and child and were running down already. It was him and the LT who went back for Brandon, and Chris had a sinking feeling of dread they would not be able to get him in time.

The LT took his ax to the now blazing beam while Chris reached for Brandon’s shoulders. One hears stories about mothers being able to suddenly lift cars when their child is trapped underneath. Chris had no such rush of super strength, but a well placed fall of the ax split the fire-weakened beam and Brandon came free with a sharp pull as it fell away.

The LT grabbed his other arm and together they ran with Brandon dragged between them. Other injuries were not even a consideration, they ran for their lives as the inferno engulfed the hall.

EMT’s waited on the ground. The other teams had cleared their floors or had been ordered back. The woman and child from the apartment Brandon had insisted on searching were being treated. Paramedics raced over to the unconscious firefighter who had been pulled from the fire, startled to find the bundle of fur clutched under his coat.

“Jesus Christ, Grant, you fuckin idiot!” Chris swore but took the kitten as the paramedics rushed Brandon away.

He turned away from his friend and right into the flashing lights of the news cameras.

Der wasn’t a big news watcher but sometimes when he was home alone, he’d turn the ten o’clock report on before bed. A bit of weather, a bit of local politics, the latest crimes the boys at work would be talking about all helped him feel a bit more connected.

He clutched Eurydice to his chest when they rolled the video of the apartment building in flames. That was a bad one. Every company in the city would have been called. Then the reporter’s words faded into a white noise hum. The fireman on the stretcher, the one they’d had to pull from the flames, the one who had saved the baby kitty…

“Brandon, oh, lords of hell,” Der swore in a choked whisper. He leapt up and grabbed boots and jacket and then realized he had no idea which hospital…

The TV was still on, though. “The injured fireman is being treated at City General. No word yet on his condition. Faye, back to you.”

Der didn’t even stop to turn it off. He sailed down the steps three at a time, kick started the bike and roared off. Gods. Brandon. The hospital was only a few blocks but it seemed miles.

At the ER admissions desk, he leaned over the counter toward the frightened receptionist, all attempts at charm left by the wayside. “Brandon Grant! Is he here? How bad?”

The receptionist looked at her logs while Der gibbered about the firefighter and the apartment building in the news. “Oh, yes… yes he was brought in a half hour ago. He’s in the burn unit, I’m sorry his condition is still listed as critical. I can’t give you any more information.”

A pitiful whimper came from Der and for a moment the girl at the desk was afraid he might snap in either a violent or a hysterical fit. Instead the huge, scary apparition before her merely whispered, “Thank you,” before he shuffled off to slump in one of the waiting room chairs.

Hunched forward with his face buried in his hands, Der felt the blackness beckoning. What if Brandon never woke up? What if he slipped away before…

“No…gods, no,” he whispered. The sobs were climbing up his throat when his phone buzzed. “’Lo?”

“Dearheart, it’s me. Jonathan saw the news. Where are you?”

Naturally, Vincent’s beloved voice in his ear made him burst into tears. He managed to babble something half-coherent about the hospital, not at all concerned about the spectacle he was making of himself.

“Der, listen to me. You’re not doing anything there but upsetting other people, you know that. Dry your eyes, hold together and come over here. We’ll wait it out with you. There will be news soon enough and perhaps you should not be alone.”

He agreed and though he didn’t recall the drive to Vincent’s house, he made it. The door opened. Both Drew and Jonathan rushed out. The pain and worry didn’t go away but it was easier to bear with two sets of arms around him as they led him inside.

Chris was bone weary by the end of it all. They’d gotten the fire out some four hours after they’d taken Brandon away and he’d not had a chance to find out anything about his condition. He called Angie first and let her knew he was alright. The kitten lay curled and sleeping on the front seat of his car. He was going to have to find a temporary home for her until the family she belonged to could take her back.

In the meantime he had Brandon’s cell phone. The chief was personally talking to Brandon’s family, but the chief didn’t know about Derek Schiller. Chris scrolled through the numbers and decided ‘Der’ must be the one he was looking for. He didn’t call from Brandon’s phone. If the guy saw Brandon’s name come up as the caller it might not be a good thing. He punched in the number on his own phone and made the call.

Just as he was worried no one would answer, a shaky voice on the other end picked up. “Is this Derek Schiller?” Chris asked and when he got an affirmative, went on. “This is Chris Harding. I’m a friend of Brandon’s. Listen… Brandon told me he’d been seeing you, that’s why I’m calling. I thought you’d want to know…”

He paused as Der told him he already knew and asked for information. Chris blew out his breath as he listened to the tight, tear-choked voice but he kept it together. “I’m just coming off shift myself. I don’t know anything yet, but I’ll call you the second I hear anything and we’ll know first along with his family. I’ll make sure you know everything.” He paused again, remembering something Brandon had told him. “I know this might sound odd, but is there any chance you could take care of a cat for a few days? Brandon went back for it…”

He waited while Der said he would foster the kitten, “No, that’s alright. Tell me where you are and I’ll bring her to you.” Chris said, and scribbled the address on a piece of paper. He realized when he got close it was the same condo where the fire had been and Der was stabbed. He picked the kitten up and tucked it into his coat. She seemed alright, but was still lethargic. It would be a shame if the little thing died after all.

A compact, handsome man with bright green eyes opened the door. “Hey, you must be Chris. Come in, come in. I’m Jonathan. The big doofus is over there on the sofa with Vincent and that’s Drew hovering behind them.”

Still in his leather jacket and boots, Der stood. When he wished, he could make the simple act of rising into something ominous and menacing. Pitiful would have been closer at that moment, though. He wiped at his eyes, wrapped his arms around his chest, and then spotted the kitten.

“Oh…poor little baby!” He crossed the room in three strides and took the little one from Chris’ hands. “Such a beautiful baby. No wonder Brandon couldn’t leave you–” He held the kitten close and burst into tears again.

Jonathan rolled his eyes. “Don’t mind him. He’s been on and off like that the past couple of hours.”

“Thank you,” Vincent spoke up. “For thinking of Der. And for bringing the, ah, baby.”

Chris nodded. “No problem. I’m sorry to cut it short but I promised my wife I’d be right home after I dropped the kitten off. She’s a little shook up.” Which was a hell of an understatement. “I’ll call as soon as I hear–” The chirp of his cell phone cut him off and when he looked at the number he knew he’d be forgiven for answering immediately.

“Hello. Yeah, chief.” It was hard to keep the hopeful tone out of his voice, harder still to keeping his mm-hm’s positive as the chief began to talk. After a few moments he couldn’t meet any of the faces looking at him. By the end he had gone silent and he swallowed hard as he hung up, wishing that the call had come after he had already left.

Now he looked at the solemn expectant faces and cleared his throat. “Brandon woke, but they sedated him and are keeping him under. The burns are… they could be worse.” He said. “It could’ve been a lot worse. He’s got second and third degree burns on his back, mostly on one side. They’re going to start working on grafts immediately. He’ll be in the hospital for a while, the chief couldn’t say how long.” He knew this was not the best news he could give.

He cleared his throat again and told himself he must be choked up from the oxygen. “Brandon’s healthy and strong, there’s no reason to think he won’t make a full recovery. I’ll let you know as soon as he’s allowed visitors, ok?”

Der rocked with the kitten in his arms, eyes closed, but he managed a strangled, “OK.”

After Chris went home, Jonathan ran a hand over Der’s hair. “Hey, now. Alive is good. Waking up is good. Doctors working on him, all good. Why can’t you stop blubbering?”

“I should have told him,” Der whispered. “What if I…if he…”

“Christ’s sake, Schiller, don’t start up again.” Despite Jonathan’s irritated tone, he slid onto the couch to take Der in his arms since Vincent had retreated in a fit of sneezing brought on by the kitten. “And you will. Get the chance. You will. So shut up.”

In the meantime, there were other considerations. Ethan was called to come and look at the kitten. After a cursory exam he decided he would take her to the office to run x-rays and put her in the oxygen tank overnight just to be on the safe side, along with some antibiotics.

Der stayed the night at Vince’s and went home in the morning. Drew went with him to keep him company while they all waited for more news.

For three days Brandon was in and out of consciousness. When he was awake he was incoherent and wasn’t allowed visitors because of the danger of infection. On day four he was lucid enough to make phone calls. He knew he should call his mother, but he somewhat guiltily dialed Der’s number first.

Der needed both hands to flip open his phone, he shook so hard. It wasn’t Vincent or Ethan or Chris or even his mother. This number had no name attached, which usually didn’t mean good things.

He felt Drew slide up close and slipped an arm around him. Drew always knew when he needed someone to hold.

“Hello?”

“Der…” Brandon’s voice cracked. “Hey, sweetheart, how are you?”

“Bran? Oh, holy fucking hells! Brandon?” Der leaped up in agitation. “You’re awake? You’re awake. Shit…oh, shit…it’s so good to hear your voice again I can’t believe you did that you’re so damn brave and I’m so mad at you, you idiot, I can’t even tell you, fuck! You scared the hell out of me don’t you ever do it again ‘cause I love you and I wanted to tell you that before and I was so afraid–”

Der stopped for a breath that wavered and hitched. He didn’t want to cry now. Yes, he did want to but he wanted to hold together for Brandon more.

“I’m sorry I scared you.” Brandon said, his words slow and his chuckle soft. The pain meds were pretty killer. “They say I can have visitors in a few more days. Will you come see me?”

“A few more days?” Der wailed. He took a deep breath and managed a shaky, “I’ll see if I can’t fit you into my busy calendar.”

“What day is it? I forgot.”

“Thursday.”

“Okay, well they better have me all patched up by Saturday. Can’t miss my date with you.” Brandon said, his voice still fuzzy but at least cheerful.

“I think I’d like to stay in.” Der wiped at his eyes as he tried for less shaky. “You know, a nice bedside table next to an IV stand sounds perfect to me.”

“Ah, that’s sweet of you.”

Drew made a little gesture with his hand and Der said, “Drew says hi.”

“Drew’s with you? Oh good, I hated thinking about you alone. I miss you, miss your chocolate kisses.” He was getting drowsy again already, but they talked for a little while longer. Der told him the kitten he’d saved made it, and he was keeping him safe while the family he belonged to was looking for another place to live. She had another name, but Der was calling her Smoky, which made Brandon laugh.

The kitten in question stood up on her hind legs, dug her baby claws into Der’s jeans and squeaked. Der lifted her up. “Smoky says hi, too.” He paused, the hundred and three things he wanted to say sticking in his chest. Brandon was going to be all right. They could keep. “Bran? I wanna talk to you forever but you’re still tired. Call your mom. I bet you haven’t yet.”

Brandon smiled. How did Der know him so well already? He promised to call again and they hung up so Brandon could call his family.

It was after seven and Jerrett was still upstairs in his office talking on the phone with someone, the door shut. He had told Sasha he would be down shortly. That had been an hour ago. The doorbell rang; Sasha went to answer it.

The face on the other side of the door was a familiar one, even though he’d met it once and then only briefly. The last time Sasha had seen him, he was bent over the edge of a bathtub with Jerrett’s powerful body moving rhythmically behind him.

Robbie looked at Sasha with clear surprise which settled into sullen distaste. “You’re still around? I figured he would have dumped you by now,” he said gracelessly. “I need to talk to Jerrett.” Without waiting for any kind of rebuttal, he stepped inside.

Sasha’s gaze dropped, instinct kicking in to avoid confrontation. “I’ll check for you to see if he’s available. If you wouldn’t mind waiting here, please?”

He turned rather than waiting for an answer and walked up the stairs at a steady pace, aware his every move was watched. At Jerrett’s door, he leaned his head close and rapped softly. “Sir? There’s, um, Robbie downstairs to see you.”

Jerrett looked up from the paper he was writing on, his features settling into a frown. “Robbie…?” He took in Sasha’s very bland expression, eyes downcast, and could guess that Robbie had already said something nasty.

Jerrett tapped the end of his pen on the blotter, toying with the idea of telling Sasha to send him away. If he thought Sasha would take some pleasurable vindication in it he would do it, but more than likely it would just cause Robbie to start hysterics and he didn’t want to take the chance he’d actually slap Sasha. Then Jerrett would have to get ugly indeed. Instead he stood and walked with Sasha back down the stairs.

“Jerrett!” Robbie cried as soon as he saw him. “I’m sorry to just drop in…god, I need your help.”

“When don’t you?” Jerrett asked coolly. He held up a hand before Robbie could say more. “Before I even talk to you, tell me, word for word, what you said to Sasha when he answered the door.”

Robbie’s jaw dropped, but he recovered quickly, his expression once more taking on the forlorn helpless look. “Jerrett, I’m in serious trouble and you want to play games?”

Jerrett raised a single brow as he took the last steps that put him directly in front of him. “Answer my question, or leave now.”

“I-I told him I was surprised to see him, and I needed to talk to you,” he stammered out, his nostrils flaring slightly as he took in the mouthwatering scent that was uniquely Jerrett and feasted his eyes on his handsome face, sexy body…god, he wanted him so bad.

Jerrett smirked, knowing exactly what effect he had on this boy. He turned to Sasha, letting his arm fall comfortingly around him. “Is that exactly what Robbie said when you answered the door, sweetheart?”

Robbie’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. Sweetheart? Sweetheart! He gaze narrowed on the blond tucked protectively under Jerrett’s arm, as if daring him to throw him under the bus.

Sasha stared intently at his shoes. Oh, he wanted to melt into the floor, to disappear. He leaned into Jerrett a hair, taking comfort from his strength. “I…it was…mostly, yes, sir.”

“Mostly?” The word was a single soft purr that sent a chill up both Robbie and Sasha’s backs. “I asked for ‘exactly’. Was it, or was it not, exactly what he said when you answered the door?”

“N–no, sir,” Sasha murmured. “He–he said he figured you would have dumped me by now.”

Jerrett kissed the top of Sasha’s head lightly. “Such a good boy, tying to protect one so undeserving.” He turned his dark gaze back on Robbie. “Do you remember what I told you the last time you tried to lie to me, Robbie?”

Robbie’s face crumbled. “Jerrett… I’m sorry.” He said in a distressed whisper. “Please… Please don’t do this. I need your help. I really do.”

Jerrett let out an impatient sigh. “What is it?” he said flatly.

Robbie glared at Sasha. “Couldn’t we talk in private?”

“No. My patience is at an end here, Robert. Say what you came for or leave, now.”

“I-I can’t make the rent. I–”

“What happened to Matt?” Jerrett cut him off.

“He kicked me out again. Please Jerrett… you know I wouldn’t ask if…”

“Robbie, look close. Do I look like I want to play sugar daddy for you? Get out.”

Sasha squirmed. He hated scenes like this. While he knew the tears in Robbie’s eyes were pure manipulation, it still broke his heart to see someone so distressed. “Sir? I’ll…that is, I could lend him the money if he needs it. I mean…everyone needs a hand sometimes and…and…that way you’re not involved, sir.”

Jerrett looked at Sasha with surprise that immediately turned tender. “Ah, my sweet, you are too kind hearted by far.” He turned back to Robbie. “Would you accept Sasha’s money?”

“No,” Robbie said immediately, the soft pleading look evaporating as he crossed his arms in a huff.

“Of course not,” Jerrett said knowingly. “Because you don’t want a tie to him, you want a tie to me. I won’t keep you, Rob. We’ve gone down that road and it doesn’t lead anywhere I want to be. Go kiss and make up with Matt.”

“Jerrett, please, don’t do this…I’m sorry I was mean to him.” He indicated Sasha. “I was just jealous…but I can share. Give me another chance.”

Jerrett took his arm from around Sasha and took Robbie’s elbow, turning with him toward the door. “No. I’m not interested. And I’m not going to play, Robbie. If you struggle, I’ll toss you out and call the police.”

With a sigh, Sasha retreated a few steps, all the Prince’s warnings returning to him about getting involved with people who lived to use others. A tight, sick feeling still gripped his stomach even though he didn’t know the boy and really had nothing to do with him. Why can’t people just be nice to each other? He bit down on his bottom lip, knowing the thought belonged to a kindergartener rather than a grown man, and hoped the whole thing would be over soon.

He needed to rush into Jerrett’s arms in the worst way.

There was a bit of a scene as Robbie tried to resist and wheedle, but in the end he went, he had no choice. Jerrett physically put him in his car, then stalked back to the house, closed and locked the door.

Sasha shivered in the front hall, blinking back tears. Now Jerrett was angry and it had been such a nice, quiet day. He dropped, walked to Jerrett on his knees and placed his head against a sculpted thigh, hoping to diffuse his irritation.

“Don’t let him upset you, sweetheart,” Jerrett murmured, combing his fingers through Sasha’s silky blond hair. He pushed his head back and looked down at him, his smile softening. “What’s this? Tears for that scheming wretch? He doesn’t deserve your sympathy, love.”

Sasha wiped a sleeve over his eyes. “No, sir. I..I know. I mean…I know he was just trying to play you. It’s just…hard to watch. Because scheming or not, it came from somewhere and…and…” He leaned his head against Jerrett’s hand. He refrained from saying anything about Robbie perhaps being in real trouble. “And it’s…um…my stomach hurts when you’re angry.”

Jerrett tousled his hair. “But I’m not angry at you,” he tried to reason, even though he knew reason wasn’t really part of it. “Come up here.” He opened his arms in invitation.

Without hesitation Sasha slid up his body and flung himself against Jerrett’s chest. He thought he might melt in relief as powerful arms closed tight around him. His arms slipped around Jerrett’s ribs and he nuzzled at his shoulder. “Thank you, sir. Oh, that‘s much better.”

Jerrett kissed the top of his head and wrapped him even tighter, just standing there holding him for long moments. Desire suddenly uncoiled in his belly and he caught Sasha’s chin to tip his head back and place a softly seeking kiss on his lips. “That’s enough work tonight, I think. Would you like to slip into the hot tub with me little one?”

“Yessir.” Sasha’s worried face transformed to angelic beauty with the simple addition of a smile. “I’ll go get it ready.” Which really just meant getting the cover off and setting towels close to hand but he scampered off to do these simple things so Jerrett wouldn’t have to.

Jerrett relaxed back into the water and pulled Sasha against him with a sigh. He spent a long time soaking, and even longer teasing Sasha. He loved the way he squirmed and moaned. When they finally got out and dried off Jerrett wrapped the towel around Sasha’s body and carried him in to the bedroom. Tonight he was feeling protective and he wanted to lavish extra attention on him, which he did, stretching Sasha out over the large bed and taking his very hard cock into his mouth.

He didn’t do this often, but it wasn’t because he didn’t like to. He simply saved it as a rare treat.

“Jerrett,” Sasha whispered. “That feels so…oh…” His words dissolved into a long moan as Jerrett’s lips slid all the way down his length.

He buried his fingers in thick, black hair since he hadn’t been told he couldn’t. Careful not to grip or guide, he merely caressed and enjoyed the feel of it against his hands. He wasn’t fretting over the scene at the door any longer, as he normally would, turning things over for hours and hours. The sheer joy of being in that moment overpowered all other thought.

Which had not been Jerrett’s whole intent, but was welcome nonetheless. When he had brought Sasha close several times he backed off and lifted Sasha’s legs to his shoulders. Bending his lithe, flexible body nearly double he smoothly thrust his lube-coated cock home and fucked them both to trembling orgasms.

As they lay together, relaxed and sated, they heard a phone ringing in the distance somewhere. Sasha lifted his head to look quizzically at Jerrett. “Go get it for me please, love,” he said.

The call had already gone to voice mail by the time Sasha retrieved it for him but seeing that it was Robbie who called, Jerrett wasn’t upset. He was however annoyed when he immediately called again. Jerrett answered with a curt tone. “Robbie, stop this…”

He was cut off by hysterical crying and pleading. Jerrett nearly hung up, but he heard a rare level of sincerity in the babbling and paused. “Pleeeease Jerrett, don’t hang up! God, please please come get me,” he sobbed.

Jerrett almost hung up again anyway. He could tell he was drunk but his next words stopped him. “I got… I-I got… I’m hurt, please come get me, Jerrett. I didn’t mean for it to go this far, I swear…” He started sobbing in earnest.

“Where are you?” Jerrett asked.

There was relief in Robbie’s voice as he told him where he was, but none of the sort that would make Jerrett think he was being played. He hung up and looked at Sasha. Finally he sighed. “I think it’s better if you stay here, sweetheart.”

“Yes, sir.” Sasha pulled his knees up under his chin, eyes huge with anxiety again. Something had set his alarm bells off and his inability to pinpoint it worried him. “Jerrett? Please…be careful.”

“I will be, sweetheart,” he promised and kissed him. With a long-suffering sigh Jerrett rose and got dressed, unsure if he was more annoyed with Robbie or himself.

The place was not hard to find. Robbie waited outside, huddled in the darkness. He was drunk, but not trashed. He also sported a livid black eye and split lip. Jerrett put him in the car, more gently than he put him in his own car earlier, put the car in gear and started to drive.

Robbie took a shuddering breath but had calmed down some. “Aren’t you going to ask what happened?”

“Why? So you can tell me it’s my fault?” Jerrett asked knowingly.

“N-no…don’t you care what happened?”

Jerrett glanced at him then back at the road. “You were mad because you didn’t get your way, you went out, started drinking, and started looking for someone to pay your rent. You picked the wrong guy. Or was it that you hit up some straight guy you knew would clean your clock?”

“Shut up. Just shut up.” Robbie started to cry again.

Jerrett sighed.

After a while Robbie noticed the streets they were taking and sniffed. “Where are we going?”

“To your place.”

“We can’t. I’m getting evicted.”

“Not yet, and you’re not coming to my place.”

“Why? Please Jerrett, just tonight. I don’t want to be alone.”

Jerrett’s hand slammed against the steering wheel and Robbie cringed down in the seat. Eyes like dark fire pinned him there. “You did this to yourself. Probably on purpose, and you want me to feel sorry for you?”

“I didn’t,” Robbie said in a hoarse whisper. “Matt gave me the black eye. That’s when I went to the bar. I didn’t have any money, but you know there’s always guys to buy drinks. I changed my mind, wanted to go home. One of the guys that had been buying rounds followed me out. I didn’t pick him up, Jerrett, I swear.”

Jerrett’s hands tightened on the steering wheel and his jaw set in an angry line. He didn’t say another word but he took the next turn and headed home. Battered and cowed Robbie followed Jerrett inside.

Sasha careened around the corner, fully dressed again. He had heard the car door slam and then shut again. That wasn’t right. His thudding heart did a painful turn and stutter when he saw Jerrett whole and well and then it took another hard lurch when he saw Robbie.

A hundred things flew through his mind in quick succession but he settled on the immediate need out of habit. “Holy mother–” He steered Robbie to a chair in the front room and ran to the kitchen for ice and a damp cloth.

Someone hurt like that made it no longer matter who the someone was or what they had done. Only the hurt mattered, and making it better.

Jerrett watched as Sasha tenderly set about cleaning Robbie up and holding ice to his swollen eye and lip. Jerrett sat in a chair opposite and watched, fingers occasionally twitching on the arm of the chair like a cat swishing its tail in agitation. His Sasha should not have to attend such an ungrateful manipulative little bastard like Robbie.

“You can sleep in the guest room,” Jerrett said.

“Can’t I sleep…on the chair, or the floor, in your room?” Robbie asked, the alcohol in his system removing enough of his pride to be able to ask humbly for the privilege of sleeping on Jerrett’s floor. He really didn’t want to be alone tonight.

Jerrett’s jaw hardened and he glanced at Sasha.

Sasha returned the look with confusion and then dropped his gaze. “Sir, it’s not…not my place to say. But there is the big floor cushion. It’s almost…almost big enough for a mattress. At least for someone…someone smaller.”

This was all such a bad idea and probably wouldn’t end well. He knew it and still his heart ached to see the panic in Robbie’s eyes. Real, unmanufactured anxiety was a subject he knew far too much about not to have at least a little sympathy.

Jerrett wiped a weary hand over his eyes. “Fine,” he gave in. “Let Sasha help you get cleaned up, and then the both of you come to bed.” He got up and headed toward the bedroom himself, leaving Robbie in Sasha’s capable hands.

Robbie slumped in the chair like his strings had been cut when he was gone. “I need to take a shower,” he said in a strained voice.

Sasha nodded, forehead crinkled in concern. He took Robbie under the arm, helped him to the one downstairs and brought him extra towels. “Are you all right by yourself?” he asked softly. Robbie wasn’t moving well and looked close to tears.

He chewed his lower lip and finally said what needed to be said. “Robbie…how bad is it? Did you…did he…how bad did he hurt you?”

Robbie wouldn’t look at him. He’d wanted Jerrett to help him, not foist him off on his current lover. He wanted to tell Sasha to just go away, but he needed his help, and at least he was being nice. By way of answer he pulled off his shirt.

The guy from the bar had kept most of his punches to his ribs and torso. He didn’t think anything was broken but the bruises were a livid purple darkening to black. He carefully bent to take shoes and socks off and then eased his pants down.

More bruises decorated his hips and buttocks where he’d been gripped by hard hands. This was the first Robbie had seen of the damage, too, and he was a little shocked. The alcohol had numbed him at least a little. The sight of blood on his underwear made his head swim and he felt like he might get sick or pass out or something.

“OK, never mind,” Sasha murmured. He took Robbie under the elbow in case he started to keel over. He kept hold of him with one hand while he started the shower.

Robbie swayed and Sasha pulled him close to let his head rest on his shoulder. “You poor thing,” he whispered. “Jerrett doesn’t know about all this.” It was a statement since he was certain Jerrett wouldn’t have been so cold and heavy-handed if he had any idea.

The head against his shoulder shook back and forth miserably.

“Look, I know where you are. How this feels right now,” Sasha went on softly. “Jerrett never will. There’s always going to be bastards out there who think they can do what they want ‘cause they’re big enough. And ‘cause you’re not a girl and you won’t go to the cops and no one will care.”

He sighed, stroking Robbie’s hair softly. He supposed he shouldn’t be so nice to someone who wanted to take his place but it was so hard not to be in the face of such misery. “But it’s over now and you know better now. And hopefully you have more sense than me and won’t let it happen again.”

Wordlessly Robbie moved under the spray of the shower. In a way he wished Sasha would stop being so nice and understanding. Even he knew he didn’t deserve it.

The warm shower made him feel a little better, but also added to his exhaustion. By the time he got out he was glad Sasha was still there to help him dry off. In the bedroom Sasha got out a pair of pajama bottoms for him, one of his own since they were close to the same size. Robbie took them with a murmured word of thanks.

Jerrett came in at that moment, his eyes flicking over to them and then locking onto Robbie. A line of concern formed between his brows as he stalked over and took Robbie by the shoulders, although he did so gently. His dark eyes moved over his battered frame and back up to his face. “You should have called the cops, not me,” he said, although there was no heat to the words.

Robbie snorted. “Right.” He slid into the pants Sasha had given him.

Jerrett shook his head. “Go on and get into bed. You’re going to be too sore to sleep on the floor.”

Robbie moved closer to him, slipped his arms around Jerrett and pressed his face into his chest. “Thank you,” he whispered with a shuddering sigh.

Jerrett turned with him toward the bed and reached one hand for Sasha, taking his hand and leading him, too. They settled into the center of the huge bed with Jerrett in the middle, Sasha curled on one side and Robbie on the other.

Sasha lifted his head to kiss Jerrett’s cheek, a silent ‘thank you’ for his restraint and his kindness. He snuggled close though he knew he wouldn’t sleep with so many anxious thoughts running around in mad circles in his head.

He worried that Robbie should have gone to the ER and that he still might have to. He worried that this boy in their bed was huge, monster trouble. And that he wouldn’t go away. What if Jerrett decided at some point that Robbie was staying and he expected him to share? The sharing part wasn’t so hard, it would be the sharing part with someone so potentially bitchy that made his insides hurt.

He closed his eyes on a soft sigh since he was getting way too ahead of himself.

In the morning Jerrett woke to find Sasha already up and Robbie curled into a ball at his side. His face looked worse than it had the night before. He extracted himself without waking him and pulled on some clothes. He could hear Sasha in the kitchen. He took his cell phone and went out onto the patio.

It was early to call Matt, but Jerrett didn’t really care about waking him. Matt answered the phone with, “There better be a damn good reason for you to be getting me out of bed at this hour, Hawthorn.”

Jerrett had already planned his words and replied dryly. “Well I don’t know that he’s a good enough reason to get out of bed, but he’s currently in my bed and that’s reason enough for me to call you.”

It took Matt a count of three before he answered. “If that’s your way of telling me you took the slut in, you’re mistaken if you think I give a shit.”

“You’ve broken up for good then?” Jerrett asked.

Matt snorted. “You can keep the conniving bitch.”

“Oh, I’m not going to keep him, but someone needs to look after him while he recovers. I was going to update you but since you don’t give a shit, I won’t bother.”

“Recovers? From what? What the hell did you do to him!?” Matt’s voice rose until the last was screamed.

Jerrett smiled. “Why do you care?”

There was nothing on the other end but the sound of quick and angry breath being drawn, and then Matt answered. “Tell me what the fuck is wrong with him, you asshole.”

“That’s not for me to say, not if you broke up. You’ll have to ask him yourself.” Jerrett hung up. He expected Matt would be over shortly

“Should I set an extra place for breakfast, sir?” Sasha stood in the open doorway with a wooden spoon in one hand. He knew people who hated the self-satisfied look Jerrett wore at that moment but he adored it. His Dom always looked like a well-sated, oversized and very sexy cat with that expression.

“Set two extra places. I believe we’ll be having more company soon,” Jerrett said.

Sasha sidled up to give him a soft kiss, careful to keep his floured hands out of the way, and then hurried back to his preparations. If it had been his decision, he would have brought Robbie breakfast in bed but that would irritate Jerrett. His bed, his Sasha, his place as lord of the manor to breakfast there if he chose.

Two places. He supposed he would find out soon enough who Jerrett had phoned and who was coming over.

Breakfast was ready and Robbie was still sleeping. Jerrett told Sasha to let him wake on his own while they sat down at the table together. About halfway through his omelet the doorbell rang. Sasha started to get up but Jerrett put a hand on his arm. “I’ll get it.” He didn’t want Sasha to take the brunt of Matt’s ire. He kissed his forehead as he stood. “Have I told you that you make the best biscuits in the world?” he mentioned as he meandered off toward the front door.

Jerrett opened the front door and smiled as Matt blustered in demanding to see Robbie. Of course, the minx in question was just wandering out from the bedroom, rubbing the sleep from his one good eye and looking like he’d gone a few rounds in a match that didn’t work out so well for him.

Robbie‘s look of surprise quickly turned to sullen anger. “What are you doing here?” he said in a scathing tone.

Matt looked equally surprised. He’d smacked Robbie once, but he hadn’t done all this damage. “God, what happened to you?”

“I’ll be finishing breakfast in the kitchen. Join me when you’re done. Sasha is an excellent cook,” he told them as he walked past, ignoring the glares he got from both of them.

In the kitchen, Sasha’s eyes remained glued to his plate but he still murmured, “I guess that’s Robbie’s current, sir?”

“Yes.”

Sasha smiled and gave a little shake of his head. “It’s amazing, sir, how you can do something good and still do it in a way that’s…you.”

“Hush. Don’t go around saying I did anything ‘good’.” Jerrett sniffed.

“Yes sir,” Sasha agreed, but the twitch of a smile stayed on his lips.

The argument in the other room grew to a shouting match. Jerrett flipped open the paper as if completely oblivious. Sasha stopped eating and fidgeted with his fork. Without looking up, Jerrett reached over and tugged him into his lap, holding him loosely with one arm while he read through the business section.

Eventually the raised voices died down and there was nothing but quiet. A few minutes after that Matt came into the kitchen. “I’m taking Robbie home,” he announced.

Sasha raised his head from where he’d buried his face against Jerrett’s neck. “Robbie’s clothes are in the dryer, sir. Could I get them?”

Jerrett let Sasha up and patted his adorable little butt to send him on his way. When he’d gone he folded the paper and regarded Matt. “You should take him to see a doctor, Matt.”

Matt shrugged. “He says it’s just bruises.”

“I didn’t mean about his injuries. Have him tested.”

“What for…oh.” He seemed to process that slowly. “He said some guy jumped him for his wallet.”

Jerrett raised an eyebrow with a look that said all too clearly that Matt was an idiot and always would be. Nobody did haughty disdain better than Jerrett Hawthorne. “Did he?” He shrugged. “Well, I’ve never known Robbie to lie about anything before, have you?”

Matt’s face hardened, he took the hint. He turned and went back out into the living room. Sasha had fetched Robbie’s clothes and he was now dressed and ready to go. The tension level in the house went down about eight notches as soon as they were both gone.

“Sir?” Sasha had his arms wrapped tight around himself. “Do you think…I mean…will Robbie be OK with him? He did…hit him. Before. He might have deserved it. But…”

“He’ll be alright, Sasha.” Jerrett reassured him. “He and Matt have been on and off for a long time, but even if it was totally over Matt would still take care of him. I wouldn’t have called him if I didn’t think he would.”

Sasha’s blue eyes met his in rare, frank appraisal. There was a very good man living inside that bad boy exterior and though he’d known it for some time, he supposed it hadn’t registered before. He gave Jerrett a smile that said all he needed to and snuggled into his arms.

The afternoon sun streamed through Derelict’s window and shone off his blue-black hair as he sat on the carpet giving his babies their weekly pedicures. Tamerlane sprawled content in his lap, offering one paw after another, eyes half-closed.

He knew how the big tom felt; a warm contentment glowed inside his belly as well. The weekend at Vincent’s had been glorious, not just the sex but the return to such easy companionship, the teasing, the conversation, the quiet hour over breakfast. No man had ever had a better homecoming.

Monday afternoon the warm fuzzies stayed with him. With a good day behind him at work, his apartment set to rights, and phone calls made to Ethan and the Prince to reassure them all was well again, he felt a sense of accomplishment.

And yet–

Something still nagged at him.

His head jerked up on a realization. “Brandon. Oh…damn.” The handsome fireman had called him three times while he’d been deep in the throes of depression and he had yet to make a return call. Each call had been less sure, more hesitant. Damn and more damn. He still had some apologizing to do.

Brandon reached over and fumbled with his phone, looking at the caller ID. He frowned at the name. Should he even answer? He wasn’t exactly the clingy, needy, looking-for-a-relationship type, but he didn’t like being jerked around either. If Der didn’t have any interest, he didn’t have to give him his number. Then again, it was kind of petty not to answer just because Der hadn’t. He flipped the phone open on the last ring before it went to voice mail. “Hello?”

“Hey, um, it’s Derelict.” Der sat twisting a rubber band around and around his fingers, a huge, cold knot in his stomach. “Look, I’ll understand if you don’t want to talk to me and I’ll save the excuses for later. But I think I have some serious apologizing to do. Feel like letting me grovel?”

“Der… you don’t need to apologize to me,” Brandon said. He chuckled, but it wasn’t a happy sound. “Things happen, right?” he offered, by way of letting Der off the hook. If Der didn’t like him, if it was just a one night thing, no big deal. He was a big boy now, he could handle that.

“Well, yeah, things happen, but not like it sounds like I think you might be thinking,” Der blurted out. Damn it to all levels of hell. He’d hurt Brandon’s feelings and now he couldn’t even be coherent.

“See, I got your calls and I wasn’t ignoring them, I just couldn’t answer them. Not right then. Because I’d screwed up so bad that night I thought I might die.” Shit, oh, shit, that had come out all wrong. “Not with you! I didn’t mean that. Oh…hells…could I see you? This might be easier, or less confusing, or at least less absurd, if I could.”

Brandon really didn’t want explanations, but Der sounded upset… and besides, he was curious. “Alright. Where do you want to meet?”

“Ah…park? The one near the library?” Der drew in a careful breath. Why Brandon had to be so nice about all this, he couldn’t imagine. It would have been easier if he’d raised his voice or been a prick. Now Der felt about an inch high.

An hour later Brandon found Der sitting on a park bench feeding ducks. He sat down beside him. “So, granddad, how goes it?”

Der mimed shaking a cane at him and said in a querulous, quavering voice, “Young whippersnapper! When I was your age, kids had more respect.” He managed a little smile when he got the laugh he was after and returned to his own voice. “All in all, not bad. Just feel like a jackass for making you think I was blowing you off.”

He gave Brandon a piece of bread in case he wanted to join in. “It’s no excuse but I thought you should at least know what happened. I haven’t had the best couple of weeks. See, when I get depressed, I get really depressed. Forty fathoms deep and all that. And I don’t always think straight then.”

Brandon tore off a corner of the bread and tossed it absently but his eyes were on Der. Finally he asked, “What were you so upset about?”

Derelict cleared his throat and shifted, not certain how all this would sound to an outsider. “I kinda, sorta borrowed Drew that night without permission. Or more accurately, I didn’t make sure he got permission before I borrowed him. Vincent was…furious. For a lot of reasons but mostly because I know better. He kicked me to the curb there for a bit like I deserved. At the time I wasn’t sure he’d ever take me back.”

Brandon frowned slightly. “He got mad at you for sleeping with his boyfriend…? I kind of got the impression that you two…er, three, or four… or whatever, all shared freely? Why did he get mad this time?” As soon as he said it, he had it figured out. The one part of the equation that was different. “Oh, duh. Me. He got mad because you were with me?”

“Um, yes, that would be the fly in the proverbial ointment,” Der said on a little sigh. “Yes, there’s a certain amount of freedom in the arrangement but you have to remember that Drew belongs to Vincent. It’s more than just a boyfriend thing.”

“Yeah, but shouldn’t he have been mad at Drew?” Der gave him a patient look and Brandon waved a hand. “Sorry, I must be a little slow today. He was mad at Drew, too. I see.” His small frown took on a more worried cast. “Because of me. I feel terrible now. Are you okay? Is Drew alright? Is Vincent still pissed?”

“Yes, I’m much better. Yes, Drew’s fine. Vincent would never hurt him. And no, Vincent isn’t pissed. His lordship has been suitably assuaged and soothed. And finally, don’t you dare feel bad. You were following the lead of the Pied Piper of impulsive behavior.” He stopped to spread a hand over his chest. “That would be me. And you are in no way to blame for a situation you didn’t really know anything about.”

Brandon leaned an elbow on the back of the bench and gave Der a slightly amused look. “Now, how do you like that? You lure me out here to grovel and instead you tell me what to do.”

“Ah, the man still wants groveling. Coming right up.” Der flung himself down onto one knee in front of Brandon, hands clasped in supplication. “Please, please, forgive this wretched, miserable, not-fit-to-lick-the-bottoms-of-your-sneakers churl. I’m so, so sorry for being neglectful and discourteous and just a downright, selfish bastard.”

He hung his head. “Beat me if you must but please say you forgive me.”

Brandon gave him a stern expression, though it was hard not to crack a grin. “I don’t know Der. I don’t see any roses. Or chocolate. Not even a pair of handcuffs. How am I supposed to believe you’re really sincere?”

“I…I have a whole drawer full of handcuffs in my bedroom,” Der said in a small, plaintive voice while he made a good show of wringing his hands. “And chocolate cake in the fridge.”

Brandon finally grinned. “Well that’s just too tempting an offer to resist.” He stood, took Der’s hands and drew him up as well. It was still a little disconcerting when Der stood at his full height next to him. He was used to being taller. At six four he was at least even with most of the guys he knew. He kind of liked that Der was taller though, the height suited him, and he carried it well. “Lead the way, oh repentant one,” he said, still smiling.

“Oh, good.” Der broke into a pleased, sharp-toothed grin and he skipped a few steps next to Brandon. Only the rattling chains ruined the illusion of the world’s largest six-year-old.

At the apartment, all three furballs greeted them at the door. “Hello, babies! See, I wasn’t gone too long. This is Brandon. Be nice to him.”

While Der shucked his coat and boots and hurried to the kitchen for the promised cake, the cats arranged themselves around Brandon on the sofa, each investigating in their own way. Eurydice sniffed his shoes, sneezed, and then decided it was safe to lounge on the back of the sofa behind him. Tamerlane plopped down beside him, tail waving in lazy circles, blinking.

Elektra sat on his other side, prim and proper and fixed him with an unwavering stare. Finally she pronounced, “Meeah-rah.”

Brandon decided the big tom looked the safest. The other two had that feline look of tolerance about them that might mean a pet would be welcome, or might mean a pet would turn them into snarling balls of hell fury. He reached out and tentatively scratched under the tom’s chin. When this was allowed he gave a few more rubs and scratches until he elicited a purr, which made him smile.

Elektra found this favoritism completely intolerable. She batted at Brandon’s arm with an imperious, “Meeeahrah!”

“Stop that, Lek,” Der scolded as he returned with cake and milk. “Brandon can pet whomsoever he pleases.” She turned and butted Der’s side as he sat down, then crawled into his lap to sulk.

Brandon grinned. “I can’t believe I feel like I should apologize for offending your cat.”

“She has that affect, my Queen of Cats,” Der said as he handed Brandon a plate and dug into his own. “The important thing is that she is offended and therefore is much taken with you.” He ventured a sideways glance. “That makes two of us.”

Brandon stopped with his fork halfway to his mouth. He was so surprised all he could do was sit there stupidly for a moment. Usually the guys he dated expected those kind of admissions from him first. For whatever reason he always seemed to end up with the spoiled princesses and drama queens, every last one. “You are?” he asked, and then couldn’t believe he’d said it. That was smooth, and to make it worse he knew he was blushing.

“Well, um, yeah.” Der’s forehead crinkled, his expression uncertain. “I know I have something of a reputation, that people expect me to sleep around. And, yes, I do have a teensy bit of experience with one-night stands and weekend flings. But I don’t give any of those folks my number.”

One corner of his mouth lifted in a self-deprecating smile. “And I sure as hell don’t get down on my knees for them in public places. But you — I didn’t mean to give you the impression it was a one time deal. You’re my hero, after all.” The smile blossomed brighter. “Gods, you’re gorgeous when you blush.”

Brandon ducked his head with a little grin, even more embarrassed that he’d been caught blushing. To cover it up he took the bite he’d been holding and forgot all about being embarrassed. “Wow, this is good.” The chocolate cake was rich, not dry at all, just the right amount of sweet. The frosting was light, and had a raspberry flavor that was a surprise. “Did you make this?” he asked, noticing the slice didn’t have that perfectly-even store bought look.

Der nodded, a hint of color in his own cheeks. “A learned skill made necessary by a crippling weakness for baked goods.”

“Mm-uh… this is so good,” he said again with his second bite. “I think I want to marry you,” he teased.

“Oh, yes?” Der put his plate down and stretched out with his head in Brandon’s lap. “Well, you’d have to meet mother first. Where would you like to honeymoon?”

Brandon chuckled and set his plate aside as well. His fingers caressed the side of Der’s face and combed into his hair. “Oh, I don’t know. A Greek isle maybe? Someplace warm with water nearby. Actually it doesn’t matter as long as you’re there.” He smiled to show he wasn’t taking this too seriously. Those lips were just too hard to resist and he bent to kiss him softly.

“Mmm.” Der hummed into the kiss, a sudden spark of sharp desire zipping through him. He slid a hand to the back of Brandon’s neck to knead the muscles there. When Brandon pulled back he looked up into those beautiful eyes and whispered, “I burn easy, though. You’d have to keep slathering sunscreen all over me. I think I’d manage to endure having your nice, strong hands all over my body. Again. And again.”

He slipped an arm around Brandon’s waist and pulled him down for another kiss, this one full of heat and yearning.

Brandon shifted to get more comfortable for an extended make out session. He ended with Der rolled under him, one leg between his so they straddled each other’s thighs. Der’s kisses were chocolate-raspberry tinged and he kissed every bit of sweetness from those soft lips, then moved on to nuzzle behind his ear and down the side of his throat.

Der gasped, hips pressing up as the sharp twinge of desire rose to floodtide. It wasn’t as if he’d never been kissed like that before but something in Brandon’s eager sincerity heated the furnace inside to a titanium melting point.

He teased Brandon’s t-shirt out of his jeans and slid his hand under the hem to run his nails softly over the small of his back.

Brandon’s hands slid down Der’s ribs, tugging his shirt up as well. He let them glide under his tee, caressing upward, his wrists catching the material and pushing it up. He nibbled on Der’s earlobe, tugging gently on one of the studs. “I believe you mentioned something about a drawer full of handcuffs, too?”

“Oh, yes.” Der sat up, taking Brandon with him. “A slight exaggeration, of course. There’s other stuff in there.” He nuzzled at Brandon’s throat while he held him tight. “Best to show you, I think.”

He toyed with the idea of carrying Brandon and then decided he better start working out more seriously before he tried any such thing. Instead he settled for taking him by the hand and leading him to the aforementioned drawer in the bedroom.

The toys and cuffs and spreaders winked at them in the afternoon sun. Der felt a wave of shyness return for some odd reason but he hid it well. “Take your pick. For you, for me, however you want.”

Brandon looked through the assortment and wasn’t sure if he should be amused or intimidated by the variety and amount of things to choose from. There were traditional metal handcuffs, both plain and adorned with silk ribbons, there were padded leather cuffs in tan and black, and a plain black pair without any padding. The last were the ones he picked up. They buckled on and had several heavy silver rings, two of which were attached with a metal D ring.

He picked them because he liked the way they looked and thought they would look particularly good on Der. He needed to break some of the tension, though, it had gotten too quiet. An image came to mind… “Do you use these on Drew?” he asked, only half teasing.

“Those things?” Der answered with a lisp and an airy wave. “Oh, honey, no. That would just be too tragic. Black is so not for him.” He pointed a claw to the drawer. “The tan calfskin, yes, and those little silver numbers and that and that and that and the blue rope.” He chuckled and ceased when Brandon gave him a playful shove.

Brandon ran a fingertip down Der’s arm, still smiling with that playful look. He lifted his wrist gently, almost like he was going to slip a ring on his finger, only instead of a ring he placed the leather around his wrist and buckled it on almost delicately. He repeated the same process with the other wrist, aware that Der watched him intently.

“Where would you like me, handsome?” Der’s eyes danced, humor mingled with heat.

“I think over here on the bed would be good.” Brandon answered. As they rose from the floor they paused to undress each other first. Brandon decided he really did like the way the cuffs looked on Der, especially in nothing else. As they neared the bed he forgot about them for a little while.

Der sat on the edge of the bed and Brandon pushed him gently back, moving over him as he did. “Now, where were we?”

“I think,” Der slid his arms around Brandon’s ribs. “About here…” He seized Brandon’s lips in a searing kiss, a moan vibrating through him as Brandon’s hard body settled on him. His weight felt so good, the press of his hard abs against his cock made him squirm.

Brandon melted into the kiss, pushing his fingers into the thick waves of Der’s hair. He urged Der’s legs apart with his thigh and settle between them. The kiss was slow and languid and full of fire. He took his time exploring his mouth with his tongue, his hands working down to Der’s shoulders and caressing his chest, thumbs brushing across his nipples.

He hadn’t slept with anyone since their tryst with Drew and he had to keep reminding himself to take it slow and enjoy every moment.

Der arched into him, hard and aching and ready but unwilling to rush his partner. It felt so good to have the time and the privacy and someone patient with such talented hands.

“Oh, hon, I hope you have wicked, wicked plans for me,” he whispered against Brandon’s ear. “I’ll be a very good boy and do just as I’m told.”

Brandon’s soft chuckle tickled along Der’s throat. “And here I thought I had a bad boy.” He said as he repositioned Der on the bed. He slid his hands down Der’s arms to the wrist cuffs and lifted his arms over his head, placing his hands between the bars in the head board and linking the two cuffs together with the D-ring so he couldn’t bring his hands down.

Smiling he began to kiss his way slowly down Der’s chest, stopping to nibble on his nipple and tug gently on the ring there. He stopped again to dip his tongue into Der’s navel and wiggled it around until he had him squirming. He kissed a trail over his hip and then inward, nuzzling at the crook where his leg met his body and breathing in the slightly musky scent of aroused male.

Brandon nuzzled and licked and kissed all around Der’s cock and balls, occasionally placing little kisses and licks along his shaft, but he didn’t take him in his mouth. He wanted Der so ready he couldn’t stand it before he did that.

“Gods…” Der moaned. “You’re so damn good at that…oh…man…” He pulled at his cuffs, hard biceps bulging. “You could tease me until I have a stroke, I’d die happy.”

He lifted his head to watch and, hell, yes, Brandon was wonderful to watch in action. Not as massive as Ethan but big enough to give him that little thrill of being overpowered. Hard not to watch the flex and bunch of muscles in that perfect, tattooed back and the lovely way his hard glutes flexed and dimpled as he moved.

His head fell back on a gasp when Brandon licked underneath his sac, words lost in the rush of passion.

Brandon’s arms slid under Der’s thighs, pushing them up and out as his mouth dipped lower yet, wet tongue sliding back to tease and circle around Der’s hole. He didn’t tease as much here, though it was too much to resist sliding his tongue inside, making Der squirm and moan. It got him pretty hot that Der couldn’t bring his arms down to encourage him along either.

Brandon’s long tongue licked and kissed Der there until he was writhing on the bed. He took his time, refusing to rush, until he was ready to switch gears. Then he licked back up the stretch between Der’s hole and his balls, pausing briefly to suck them into his mouth before continuing up his pierced shaft. This time he didn’t just tease, he slid his lips around the head of Der’s cock and swirled his tongue around and around, the bitter tang of his pre-cum urging him on as he plunged halfway down his cock.

Der cried out he was so keyed up, hips lifting into Brandon’s tender assault. “Sweet mother of night…Brandon…” He cut off on a hard groan as Brandon slid down until his head bumped against the constriction of his throat. Teeth gritted, he forced himself to little rolls instead of thrusts, drowning in an agony of pleasure.

“Mmm…” Brandon purred around Der’s cock, completely focused now. His mouth moved up and down on the first few inches of him while his hand wrapped around his base and followed the movement of his mouth. He pressed a finger inside the tight constriction of Der’s sweet little ring, rubbing rhythmically on the inside as well. He wasn’t sure at what point he’d decided he was going to make Der come like this but it didn’t matter. He discarded the slow and sensual teasing as he consumed Der with a single-minded goal.

Every bump against the silver balls on his cock sent lightning sparks through Der. He writhed and arched, pulling hard against his cuffs. The restriction made him hotter the harder he fought against it, his hips moving in desperate grinds as he tried to get deeper inside that wonderful mouth and farther onto that single digit all at once.

“Bran…oh…damn…” he gasped out, chest heaving. “I’m almost there…”

Brandon’s answer was to stroke a little faster, a little harder, and slide a second finger into that tight back passage. He knew Der was holding on by a fingertip and he wanted nothing more than to push him right over the edge, make him feel that wonderful orgasmic rush, taste his hot come over his tongue

While Der was never loud, there was still no mistaking the moment of no return for him. His stomach muscles tightened to hard ridges. His toes curled. His whole body yearned upward. With a series of soft cries, he raced to the pinnacle and crashed over, hips bucking and jerking hard.

Brandon moaned as the hot semen burst across his tongue and flooded his eager mouth. He slowed, letting each pulse come and drawing it out, his fingers thrust deep inside and holding steady right on Der’s hot spot. When he’d coaxed the last shuddering drop from Der and his body went slack he lifted his head slowly and withdrew his fingers. Kissing his way up Der’s body he locked onto his lips and kissed him deep and hot, sharing his own flavor with him.

“Feeling good, sweetheart?” he whispered into his mouth. He got an incoherent moan and a nod. “You have condoms in the drawer there?” Another dazed little nod was his answer and Brandon retrieved a rubber and the bottle of lube from the drawer. He watched Der watching him as he rolled the condom onto his hard-on and rubbed a good amount of lube over it.

He gazed at Der for a few moments while his hand moved over his cock, it felt so damn good, and he loved the hunger in Der’s eyes. “You want this, honey?”

“Yes,” Der got out in a strangled whisper. He licked dry lips, pleasure fuzzed brain struggling for words. “Oh, yes. Do all firemen have such gorgeous equipment?”

Brandon gave a small chuckle as he positioned himself between Der’s legs. “I wouldn’t know if all of them do.” The last word was drawn out in a shuddering breath as the head of his cock breeched the tight ring of muscle. “Oh, god Der… feels so good.”

Der sucked in a breath, the size of the member impaling him more than he’d had in a while. He forced himself to relax and slid his legs up to Brandon’s waist. “Don’t hold back. Ride me, handsome. Any way you want. Like a plow horse or like your own personal polo pony.”

Brandon didn’t hold back. He thrust into Der and claimed his lips in a searing kiss. Thick arms wrapped around Der and locked behind his back, pulling him up and crushing him to his chest as his hips bucked in short hard thrusts. The sounds Der made, the little huff’s of encouragement and pleasure were enough to make him half crazy. His body moved at a frantic pace and when he came he buried himself deep, holding still while the explosion rocked him hard enough to make him cry out.

When he finally eased back, lying across Der’s heaving torso, his own chest rising and falling hard, he felt he could happily lie there forever. The only reason he reached up to unhook the D-ring was because he missed Der’s arms around him.

Der held him gently, one long arm wrapped around him while his free hand stroked through Brandon’s short-cropped hair. Strange, this feeling of utter contentment. He didn’t feel any need to break the comfortable silence or to entertain his guest.

Brandon shifted with a sigh and Der kissed the top of his head, pleased simply to float there with Brandon’s scent wrapped around him.

“Der?” Brandon asked in a sleepy murmur.

“Mm?”

Brandon lifted his head so he could look at him, a satisfied smile on his lips. “Would you get upset if we ate the rest of our cake in bed?”

Der took him under the chin and kissed him softly. “Some men I’d kick out of bed for eating crackers. You I wouldn’t kick out if you wanted to cover the sheets in chocolate icing.”

“Do you think he would?”

The call from Cody had been unexpected and now Keit had to think what to say. What did you tell such a pretty artist when he asked in such a sweet, plaintive voice? No, my Dom’s way too private a person to want to sit for you?

“I don’t know, Cody,” Keit finally answered. “I can only ask.”

“Would you? I mean, kinda let him know that I don’t have things all mapped out beforehand. It doesn’t have to be anything like the Woods installation. That is, I know it won’t be. He’s just so…sculpturally beautiful. And he’s inspired me. I have some pieces started if he wants to see them first…”

“Really?” Keit asked, suddenly very interested. “Can I see them, too?”

“Sure,” Cody said with only a slight hesitation. “Just keep in mind that it’s WIP stuff, you know, work in progress.”

The Prince was cautiously intrigued when the idea was presented to him. He agreed to give it a hearing with the caveat that he wasn’t agreeing to anything. Since Cody insisted his pieces had to be viewed in daylight, he bundled up for a trip out into the sun and allowed Keit to drive him.

“It’s not a whole concept, it’s just a start,” Cody explained as he led the way to his studio. His hands crept into his pockets and back out, fluttering here and there, his nerves telegraphing to everyone within a mile radius. “Just to give you a sort of feel for the flavor of it.”

He eased the door open and stepped aside. “For right now, I call it ‘Ice’.”

While crates and boxes of materials still littered the floor, the mundane, practical items of the studio detracted little from the wondrous scene which greeted them. Glass, in hundreds of individual, carefully ground and shaped pieces, rose in towers and spires from the studio floor, evocative of fairytale castles and icebergs. Delicate stalactites hung from parapets, forms which imitated tumbling, rushing rivers danced about their feet.

Pale blue, clear and green glass, all cleverly placed, caught the sun and sent it back as thousands of diamonds creating the illusion of an ice field on a clear winter day.

“Wow…” was Keit’s awestruck response. “I mean, well that’s exactly what I mean. Wow.” He laughed and then smiled. He glanced at Elric from the corner of his eye but didn’t say anything more. He hoped his Dom would agree to work with Cody, he could tell already it would be spectacular, but he didn’t want to seem overeager and jinx it.

His gaze as piercing as the eagle for which Orion named him, Elric’s red eyes swept the room slowly. “You say thet I hef inspired this vonder? It is difficult to understend.”

“It’s not like it’s portraiture, sir,” Cody answered softly. “Not this part. It’s more like your, um, presence? Aura? What it’s like to stand in the same room with you.”

Keit found himself nodding, understanding perfectly what Cody portrayed here, and made himself stop. He bit his lip and stayed still.

Elric stalked slowly about the room, hands clasped at the small of his back, one white brow raised. “It is breathtaking, my dear. But you cannot need me for building ice castles.”

“No, sir.” Cody gave him a shy smile. “Mixed media installation is what I like best. I’d like to start with some photos of you. See where they lead. Orion’s shown me some of his, sir. You, um, photograph very well. Stunning, really.”

“Do you alvays stroke your models’ egos so shamelessly?” Elric said on a soft chuckle. “Perheps I should think on it. I hef such full schedules these days. To make the trip here, and I’m certain you would esk for more than a single sitting…”

“Oh, sir, no! I’d never ask you to do that. I’d come to you. We want you in your own, you know, environment. Where you’re comfortable. Whenever it’s good for you. Not like I’m on a deadline or anything.”

Elric regarded him with that steady, unnerving stare for a long moment until Cody dropped his gaze and squirmed. “So. Good. I shall allow it. Though I must hef final approval of any likeness thet vould be on exhibit.”

“Of course, sir.” Cody’s smile rivaled the sun-dappled glass. “I never show any person’s image without full consent.”

Keit beamed and told Cody when the best times and days would be, noting them down on a piece of paper for him.

The next Friday afternoon Cody came with his equipment. In his sweet, polite way, he managed to coax the Prince into changing four times, from black to red to silver and finally to a full-sleeved shirt of soft blue-gray with the charcoal calfskin pants. The first series of photos were done as formal portraits with Elric installed in the oversized carved walnut chair, a fitting throne for a Black Forest prince.

When his subject became a bit more comfortable with the camera and his style of working, Cody simply let things evolve. Orion brought in an odd seed pod that had to be shown and discussed, conversation became more natural, and Cody’s camera’s whirred and clicked throughout.

Anthony arrived at the appointed hour and Cody insisted they keep to their usual routine, enlisting Orion and Keit’s help to carry his equipment upstairs to the gallery for fencing.

Keit set the equipment down carefully, then went to see if the Prince needed anything from him before they began. He didn’t, of course, but he appreciated Keit’s diligence. He lifted his chin with the edge of his finger and brushed Kiet’s lips Google.com. A click let them both know Cody had captured the moment.

“So what’s it all about, pretty Cody? Is it like a thingy, you know, commission or a project or some public beautifications work or just ‘cause your couldn’t resist? And where’s it gonna be? Are you just starting? Is it gonna be like the one with Derelict? Oooh, I loved that one, it was so damn hot–”

“Anthony!” Sasha laughed and kissed him on the cheek before handing him his face mask. “Shush. Cody won’t remember the first question if you ask him three hundred.”

Cody chuckled though he kept looking through his lens. “I was inspired, it won’t be like Der’s, I don’t know where and when it might show and it’s hard to say how far along it is. Please, do what you always do. Don’t let me stop you.”

For the first ten minutes, the camera distracted Anthony in the worst way. A natural ham, he simply couldn’t help playing to the lens. After he’d lost the first five points in a row, though, his competitive side kicked in and forced him back to business.

As a subject for photography, fencing in the mirrored gallery was marvelous. Cody played with exposure times and framing and the infinity effects of the glass but soon he realized it wasn’t doing it for him. Wonderful in its own right but not the right feel for the current piece.

When Elric called a momentary halt after winning twice, the first match easily and the second by a spare point, Cody had a thought.

“Sir? Do you have any actual weaponry in the house? Family heirloom maybe? Something that’s, you know, yours and looks like it is?”

The Prince handed his fencing mask and foil off to Keit and stripped off his gloves before he answered. “Yes, there are such things. A few things I kept.”

Cody winced. The temperature in the room had dropped twenty degrees. “It’s just a thought, sir. If I’m poking into things I shouldn’t, please tell me.”

A long silence followed in which Elric stared a hole into the far wall. Then he waved a hand and shook his head. “No, Cody, forgive me. They are only things.” He strode to the door to call out, “Orion, liebchen, could you go up to the attic, please? Die Zwiehänder erhalten, bitte?”
Footsteps sounded overhead for a bit, thuds and thumps, and soon Orion arrived in the gallery with a long, canvas wrapped bundle.

Keit came forward to help Orion unwrap the package where he’d carefully laid it on the floor. Inside were several long scabbards. It was a bit like unwrapped forgotten treasure, Keit thought with amusement. There was definitely a sense of anticipatory wonder in the room.

“A bit of nostalgia and hubris all at vonce,” Elric said softly. “As if these hef held any relevance or hed any real use for three hundred years. And yet, father insisted vone should know how to use them.”

“God, sir, they’re beautiful,” Anthony breathed.

“They are not toys like your modern-forged blades,” Elric warned.

“No, sir, no, absolutely not. Antiques. I know. Won’t lay a finger on them. Even I wouldn’t let me touch them.”

Cody leaned over Keit’s shoulder. Two of the weapons were obviously ceremonial. Parade swords in ornate scabbards, one was sheathed in black leather decorated with flowers and vines, the other in brown painted with a fierce, black-winged angel holding a flaming spear. The third, though, was unadorned and huge.

“Sir? What’s that one? A pike…or something?”

“No, my dear.” Elric chuckled. “The two-handed sword. A particularly…difficult veapon. I suppose thet is the vone you are interested in?”

“If it’s all right, sir,” Cody answered with a little smile.

“Ah, the things I do for art,” Elric said with a little shake of his head. He stripped out of his shirt, drew the scabbard off with great care and lifted the sword with both hands. The light sparked off its blade as if it had been newly forged the previous day. When the Prince grounded it in front of him, the hilt nearly overtopped him.

“Cripes,” Cody breathed out before he remembered to take a few shots. “It’s monstrous.”

“Hmm, yes. There are good reasons not many vere forged. The reach is unrivaled. The power of its strike frightening. But in terms of control, simply due to the veight and momentum, it is deficient.” Elric motioned to them all. “Beck, my dears. Against the valls. I do not vish to hef any of you harmed.”

Keit drew Sasha along with him and Orion as everyone backed off to give the Prince some room. He had the oddest sensation as he looked at Elric, standing there shirtless wielding a broadsword from a long ago era. For a moment it seemed as if this were truly the Prince’s element, and everything else was simply… pretend, a play he was acting. Sasha shivered next to him and Keit knew he must be thinking something similar.

He had a sudden urge to hug him, like he wanted to protect him from harm and had to shake his head at himself. Not only was there no need, it was an odd feeling. His attention came back to Elric as he went through his paces, looking like he performed an intricate dance. Surely not an easy thing with a weapon that size.

The camera never ceased its whir and click, Cody careful to keep himself at the room’s perimeter. Muscles strained in hard relief as the Prince lifted the sword to whirl it over his head. His face set in fierce concentration, he stepped into the forward swing in a move that surely would have decapitated an opponent.

“Oh, sir…could we have that one again? That was amazing,” Cody called out.

Elric lowered the sword to the mat, sides heaving. “You vish to have photos of me collapsed on my beck as vell?”

“Please, sir? So I can get a different angle.”

With a slightly aggrieved look, Elric raised the sword again and repeated the movement, not once, not twice, but four more times at Cody’s desperate urging.

Keit’s eyes followed every movement. The little smile that usually played about his lips definitely had a more sensual cast to it. He shifted as his thoughts turned to other things he’d like to see that magnificent body doing, and tried to unobtrusively rearrange the sudden discomfort centered on his crotch.

“Enough,” Elric finally panted out, leaning on the pommel. “It becomes too dangerous to hendle exhausted. Another reason it vas an impractical blade. Perhaps a man could endure through an entire skirmish if he vere built like Orion. Or your Victor, my dear, lurking there in the doorvay.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Victor held up both hands in apology. “Just came to pick up Cody and didn’t want to distract you in the middle of a swing. Good God, that thing’s huge.”

“Something you say to all the boys, Herr Szoldos?” Elric said with a dry chuckle.

Victor ignored the little jab. “Could I, sir? Would you mind?”

Tired as he was, the Prince waved him over and placed his hands on the hilt correctly.

“Shirt, baby,” Cody said from behind his tripod.

“Pardon?”

“I’m not sewing up any ripped shoulder seams.”

“Oh, right.” Victor yanked his t-shirt off over his head and tossed it to the side, making several hearts in the room flutter.

With Elric’s guiding hands, often with his arms around him, Victor was led through the basics while Cody’s camera clicked away. It was an absolutely magnificent image, something out of another time or another plane entirely, Victor, tall and heroically built, mentored by the somewhat shorter, more compact Elric, his alabaster skin a stark and lovely contrast against Victor’s tan.

Keit was torn. His eyes wanted to eat up every flex and bunch of muscle going on and at the same time he kept trying not to watch so he wouldn’t embarrass himself. He supposed it was too late for that. It wasn’t like he could conceal the hard-on pressing an outline along the front of his tight pants. His face felt flush and he wondered if the thermostat was actually broken.

A quick glance around showed him he wasn’t the only one, though. Anthony tugged at the leg of his pants, his large, grey eyes transfixed by the pair on the mat. Orion stood with his arms crossed over his chest, a little smile on his lips, making no effort at all to hide the huge bulge in his painted-on shorts. Sasha’s mouth hung open and he looked as if he might faint at any moment.

With one hand on Victor’s right arm, the other on his shoulder, Elric took him through a lunge, their bodies moving in tandem in a strange, fierce dance. At the full extension, Victor let out a little laugh. “Well, that certainly yanks on the hamstrings, doesn’t it? It’s almost–Elric, you’re shaking.”

“Ja, so, it is enough I think today,” Elric said with a wry smile. “Your lovely spouse hes pushed me farther than I thought possible.”

“Special talent of his,” Victor said. He thanked the Prince and helped him put the sword away before he gathered Cody and equipment up and said their goodbyes.

In the truck Victor sat without turning the key, brows drawn together in a pensive frown.

“What’s wrong, love?” Cody stroked his arm.

“Hm? Oh, nothing really. It was just an odd feeling. I read all those books when I was younger, you know, the Eternal Champion stories with the fictional Elric and all the others. Standing up there, with that huge sword and his voice in my ear, it was like having someone step out of a book. As if, maybe, fictional characters really do exist somewhere and the writer just borrows them for a bit.”

Cody laughed, though there was a nervous edge to it. “Now that’s a bizarre thought. Come on, baby, let’s get home. I’m dying to get some of this stuff in the dark room.”

Up in the gallery, Orion gathered the rewrapped bundle to put away while Elric struggled to get back into his shirt and gave up the effort with a disgusted snort. “I do hope vhen Cody comes again next Friday he hes something less strenuous in mind.” He took a step towards the door and had to catch himself on the wall before he glanced over at Keit. “Herzchen, a good rub down is a necessity, I think.”

Keit thought that was a marvelous idea. “Yes, sir.” He followed Elric to his bedroom and helped him with the rest of his clothes, trying not to appear too eager. He had the feeling he failed on that score.

Elric lay down across the bed and Keit knelt next to him on the mattress. Elric didn’t really like scented oils so Keit had brought home a non-scented massage cream he seemed to like better. He scooped a good dollop into his hands to warm it and then began to knead the overworked muscles along Elric’s back, shoulders, and arms.

“Ah…heaven,” Elric murmured. Keit’s touch was the perfect blend of gentle care and firm pressure, one of the few which didn’t make his skin twitch and crawl at first contact. Over time he had become much more at ease with Keit touching him in any situation, a stolen kiss, a spontaneous hug, a soft caress on his shoulders, all came without the sudden chill stiffness that such unsolicited touches brought with almost everyone else.

A soft grunt escaped when Keit hit a knot at the back of his neck. “I am out of prectice, mein herz. Grown soft from too much indulgence.”

Keit smiled and leaned down to place a soft kiss at the back of Elric’s neck. “Not that soft, my Prince,” he said, his tone warm but not overt.

“Shameless,” Elric said on a soft chuckle. “But it is true thet I hef not held a true blade in years. Heidelberg style fencing is all very nice but it lecks the extra challenge. Father vould never hef allowed me to let things go so long.”

He lay silent for a long stretch, brooding over things he had set aside long ago.

Keit was happy to continue in comfortable silence. He would never tire of running his hands over Elric’s sleekly muscled body. Sensitive to his Prince’s moods he let himself become a soothing part of the background, there but not intruding. The hint of arousal stayed with him though, he could not help it with the smooth, naked body lying before him.

Elric closed his eyes and allowed himself to be soothed. No doubt he would pay for overtaxing his body in the morning but for now the shaking subsided and the warm hands on his skin did marvelous things. Eventually he rolled to his back so Keit could work on his front.

He ran a finger up Keit’s golden arm. “Is there a reason you are still dressed, herzchen?”

“Only that I didn’t want to presume, sir,” Keit answered as he began to undress. He stripped down quickly until he wore nothing but the gold ring around the base of his cock and balls. Elric had recently instructed him to wear it daily, and he was glad now he had remembered that morning.

“My good boy,” Elric said with a twitch of his lips. “Come here.” When Keit came to the side of the bed, he lifted his lovely package in one hand to see the new accessory. He ran a finger around the ring as a spike of desire shot through him. “How do you like it?”

Keit shivered at the intimate touch. “I like it, sir,” he answered in a slightly breathy voice. “I like it very much… although, it can be a little distracting.” Which did not displease Keit at all. The ‘distraction’ was more like a constant reminder, the feeling that he belonged to his Prince. His collar did that as well, of course, but this was more private.

“See thet it does not distract you too much,” Elric murmured. He took Keit’s hands and pulled him up onto the bed to kneel beside him. While he didn’t have the energy for anything elaborate, Keit enjoyed simple pleasures from time to time as well. He stroked one thigh, drinking in his beautiful, firm body.

“Up here, mein herz, face down,” he ordered as he hitched himself up to lean against the headboard and patted his lap.

Keit moved smoothly across the bed and settled across Elric’s lap. “I enjoyed watching you today, my Prince.”

“Did you?” Elric smoothed his hand over Keit’s back to the top curve of his butt. “Seeing me put through my paces, ja?” He slid lower to cup one firm cheek and squeezed gently. “And vhat did you enjoy, herzchen?”

Keit smiled, looking up from his crossed arms serenely. “Watching you move, every flex and turn…seeing the way you affected everyone in the room.” Elric would certainly be able to tell how much he enjoyed watching from the way he pressed hard and ready against his thigh.

“Wie beruhigend zum herzen,” Elric murmured. He curled forward to place a soft kiss at the small of Keit’s back, breathing in his musk. When he sat back again he lifted his hand and brought it down with a sharp crack across both Keit’s cheeks.

Keit let out a small sigh as the tingling warmth spread through him.

The white hand rose and fell again with another sharp smack, then slipped between Keit’s thighs to stroke his sac. Elric’s cocked twitched at the way his Keit spread his legs and moaned for him. Some subs felt they had to put on a show to please their Doms. This one’s reactions were so nakedly honest, so achingly sincere, how could one not leap from interested to burning in a matter of moments?

He allowed a few more hard slaps simply because Keit enjoyed them so much. Then he took a firm grip on Keit’s hair and tugged him around, head in his lap, while he reached for the jar of massage cream.

Keit eagerly nuzzled into Elric’s crotch. He breathed in the musky aroma of aroused male and that alone was enough to make his knees weak and his mouth water. He moaned softly as his lips caressed his Prince’s sac and licked up his shaft to take him in his mouth.

“Mmm, perfect,” Elric purred. He stroked Keit’s hair to let him know he had leave to do as he pleased for the moment. His left hand stole down to smooth the cream between Keit’s rounded globes and stayed to circle and tease at his puckered entrance.

He drew in a slow breath as Keit sucked hard on the head of his cock, his eyes sliding half shut. Then his forefinger slipped inside the tight confines of Keit’s body.

Keit opened quickly for him, he was so turned on between watching that fabulous body working, the sensuality of the rub down, wearing the ring around his cock… the spanking to warm him up, the scent and feel of him in his mouth… he was almost drowning in sensation.

“Turn,” Elric ordered in a husky murmur. He kept his finger sliding in and out while Keit rose and shifted around on hands and knees. A second joined the first before he finished facing the foot of the bed.

Keit arched his back, rocking as Elric fingered him. He wanted to beg him to take him already, it felt so good.

The Prince took his time, though. While he wasn’t always gentle, he was always careful. Pain was one thing, damage quite another. When he finally rose up on his knees between Keit’s legs, the boy was moaning and squirming. His red eyes held as much amusement as heat as he pressed his cock against that lovely, tight entrance and thrust in.

Keit’s shoulders dropped lower as Elric took his hips in his hands and impaled him with a deep thrust. He groaned and breathed out, “My Prince…you feel so wonderful inside me.” He lay his cheek against the rumpled sheet, his ass lifted high, rocking with the slow pace Elric set. This position always made him feel very submissive, the surrender and vulnerability of it almost as much a turn on as the sleek body covering and filling him.

Elric simply growled softly in response and laced his fingers through Keit’s, holding his hands while he held them down. Few things in the world were as sweet as his surrenders, so complete, so willing. He increased the force of his thrusts, wanting more, wanting heat and desperation.

Keit spiraled upward, the feeling of being lightly restrained, and the increased leverage combined to ratchet up his desire. “Oh yes, oh yes, oh, oh, oh…” He whimpered and writhed with pleasure as Elric fucked him hard. So perfect. Exactly what he needed.

Too much of what he needed. The fast pace and hard driving thrusts had him ready to come within minutes. He could hold off just a little more… just a little longer… oh he wanted it to last and last and go on forever and… “Mmmm-my, oh god, oh my Prince, I…” Too late, he’d waited just a little too long, the orgasm caught him by surprise and robbed him of speech before he could get the words out to ask for release.

“Uuhhhh! Oh!” His body clenched and shuddered as intense waves gripped him. So good, so sweet, and he couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop it, and it had been a long time since he’d lost control like that.

“Tsk,” Elric managed in a tight whisper as his body tightened in a sudden rush. The hard spasms of Keit’s body proved too much and he clenched his teeth, a soft grunt the only indication of the hurricane force of his orgasm.

He rested against that lovely, slender body as he rode down through the aftershocks, then held him a bit longer simply because he didn’t want to let go. When he did ease out, he flopped onto his back, dizzy and sated. “Ve shall hef to address your failure to obtain permission another day, herzchen. Not today.”

“Yes, my Prince.” Keit said in a softly sated voice tinged with both wonder and shame. Not too much shame. He couldn’t have held back if his life had depended on it, and it felt so good he was little more than a boneless puddle of goo. He would take his punishment for the transgression gladly, and he would try harder next time.

When he could function again he rose and went to retrieve a towel, cleaned both Elric and himself up, then tucked his Dom into bed. He curled up happily beside him for a little while, until Elric rolled over to sleep and Keit did the same, snuggling down into the blankets with a contented sigh.

The next evening, Cody called again and asked to speak to the Prince, his voice filled with excitement.

Elric paced slowly as he listened, asking the occasional question, a bemused expression on his face. When he handed the phone to Keit to put back in its cradle, he ran a hand over the side of his face, a sure sign something had caught him completely off guard.

“Sir?” Keit asked softly. “Didn’t he like the first set of pictures?”

“Hmm?” Elric blinked at him twice before the question seemed to register. “Ah. Yes. Oh, very much. Cody used vords such as ‘fierce’. I presume from the tone he vas pleased. But for the next set he vishes me to…disrobe.”

Keit’s eyes widened in surprise, though he wasn’t sure if he was more surprised Cody wanted nude photos or that he’d gotten the nerve to ask the Prince to pose for them. He succeeded in keeping a straight face as he asked, “And…did you agree, Sir?”

“I hef said I must think on it. He vishes to stop by and discuss possibilities. ‘Venues’, he says, and ‘settings’ and…vhat is the other he used? ‘Narrative‘.” Elric shook his head as if astounded at his sudden indulgence. “I hef alvays thought Victor in clear control of their relationship. I find myself no longer so certain.”

Keit gave him a soft smile. “Well, I wouldn’t doubt Victor is the one in control within their relationship, Sir, but Cody is the one in control of the camera… or canvas, or sculpture…” he ventured.

Keit paused, not sure if he should say more, and then decided he would nudge just a little. “You know, my Prince, Cody would never do anything you would find distasteful… look at the beautiful things he did with the photos of Derelict. If you let him take the photos and you didn’t like them I think you could trust Cody to destroy every copy.”

“It is not a metter of trust, herzchen–” the Prince began and then stopped when Orion dropped to his knees before him.

“I am your shield, mein herr,” Orion offered softly, one large hand resting on Elric’s hip. “As you are mine. I would never let you stand alone in the storm. But I think the little artist understands.”

Elric combed his fingers through Orion’s hair. “So. You mean to say I should not be so anxious over this sort of exposure, ja?” He let out a little snort. “I suppose I should simply resign myself since it seems I’m destined to be stroked and soothed into agreeing.”

Keit beamed and moved closer to kiss Elric’s cheek. Orion still knelt at the Prince’s feet and when Keit came close he slid a warm hand up the outer curve of his thigh, coming to rest on his hip, his fingers curling around in a caress. Keit leaned down to kiss him as well and gave him a grateful squeeze for knowing just the right words to say.

When Cody came again that afternoon, he nearly bounced about the house, poking in this nook and that. The garden was wonderful, he declared, but he needed light and certainly wouldn’t risk the Prince’s health. The library had a certain charm and he even toyed with the idea of setting up in the dungeon but neither felt right.

He moved on to the bedrooms. “This is yours, sir? Oh, it’s perfect, it’s so you–”

“No,” the Prince said, arms folded over his chest.

“All right. Not a problem.” Cody took a quick swallow and moved on. He recognized a Dom in I-shall-not-be-moved mode all too well. The guest rooms were all lovely, each impeccably and tastefully decorated. He particularly liked the one with the huge sleigh bed where Vincent had stayed and the one with the wrought iron queen size where Der had recovered but neither quite fit the mood.

Finally he opened the door at the end of the hall across from Elric’s room. Light and airy, the four poster held enormous possibilities. “OK, whose room is this?”

Keit, who had been tailing along behind Cody with a bemused expression as he examined the rooms, spoke up, “This one’s my room.”

“Oh, hon — sorry.” Cody stroked his shoulder. “I don’t mean to bulldoze over you or anything. It’s such a fabulous space, though. Could I borrow it for some shots? I’m seeing a gauzy white lace canopy and bed curtains…”

Keit smiled indulgently. “You don’t have to be sorry, Cody, and you can use my room any way you like.”

Cody let out a little whoop of joy and flung his arms around Keit to hug him tight. Belatedly, he straightened and asked the Prince, “Does it work for you, sir?”

“After your jubilant celebration? I vould be cruel to say no,” Elric answered with an ironic half smile. He waved a hand, dismissing his own sarcasm. “Yes, yes, it vill do. A comfortable place.”

“Thank you, sir. I’ll need to get some things together. How does Tuesday sound?”

With Tuesday morning set and Cody’s mind whirling through shots, he hurried home. He’d had another thought and this one, depending on her mood, could be a tough sell or an incredibly easy one.

“Hey, Liam? How’re you? Can I talk to Katya, please?”

Katya listened to what Cody wanted to do with some amusement. She could hear the excitement in his voice despite how he was trying to contain it and be cool. She wasn’t sure this was a good idea, but for Cody she’d do just about anything. Not good to let him know that however, and she took her time before she agreed.

“Oh, thank you, thank you!” If she had been there, Cody would have given her a kiss in gratitude. “It’ll be gorgeous, you’ll see. Do you know where the Prince‘s house is?”

Katya told him she did and with all the arrangements made she arrived at the appointed time. Richard accompanied her, carrying the garment bags. Not that Cody had requested anything elaborate, but she brought several changes to give him the choice of what he wanted for her.

How to start had kept Cody up the night before. He’d toyed with the idea of letting Katya and Elric sit and talk first over tea or cocktails, a civilized scene in the parlor. The more he thought about it, though, the more he wanted to preserve some of the mystery.

“Sir? If we could start with you upstairs?” he suggested. That provoked not even a raised eyebrow, so he nudged a little farther. “And if you could get undressed? Just like you were getting into bed, sir.”

Now one elegant white brow arched. “I am to hef an audience?”

“Ah…well, maybe Richard and everybody could go back down? Richard, do you mind?”

“Of course not, Cody,” Richard said.

“Why don’t we get a snack while they’re working?” Kiet offered and led the way out to leave Cody and the Prince alone.

Orion momentarily blocked the door simply because he had been on his way in while they were on the way out. In the inevitable odd dance of people trying to get out of each other’s way, even Richard appeared small next to him.

“Now there’s a sparring partner for you, Richard,” Cody said on a laugh.

“No.” Elric said, that flat, single syllable Cody had begun to realize signaled a rising anger.

“I’m sorry, sir. Just a joke,” Cody offered in a soft murmur.

The Prince gave him an odd look and then a sharp nod. “So. Yes. But not a thing to joke about, my dear. Orion does not spar and does not hef limits vonce the fight seizes him.”

“Oh.” Cody fiddled with his tripod, cheeks flushed. Then he recovered with a little smile. “Since you’re here, big guy, you want to help me out? You’re good just like you are. Sir, maybe we’ll start you in the big chair and let Orion take your boots off?”

They proceeded one item of clothing at a time with Orion doubling as valet and screen so the camera caught glimpses of Elric’s gorgeous body but never the whole thing.

When Elric stood unclothed, Cody had to take a few deep breaths. “Sir, you’re absolutely stunning.”

“Thenk you. I do not feel stunning, though. I feel…uncomfortable.”

“I know, sir. I’m sorry.” Cody had his hands in plain sight, removed from every piece of equipment. “We’ll do it just as I promised. No full frontal. No overexposure. If you could climb into the bed, sir? And just hold it there…”

With a few side shots to capture the long, clean lines of Elric’s body, Cody let him proceed. He had to part the filmy lace curtains that now hung round the bed. Once inside, the lace allowed tantalizing hints while hiding enough so promises would be kept. The Prince sat in the center of the mattress, one leg stretched in front, his other knee bent up while he leaned back on one hand.

When Cody turned on the fans he’d placed with exacting care, the shots took on the ethereal, otherworldly character he’d been looking for.

“Perfect. Beautiful,” Cody murmured. “All right, sir. Go ahead and lie down, make yourself comfy.” He turned to Orion, who had stayed to watch. “Could you maybe ask Ms. Katya to come up? With her bags? Oh, I hope she brought the dress I’m thinking of.”

Katya looked up when Orion entered the kitchen and guessed that he was there for her. “Cody ready for me now?” she asked with a little smile.

“Yes, Fräulein Löwin.” Orion answered, his nod for her though his eyes traveled over Richard.

She stood from where she’d been sitting on Richard’s lap, gave him a kiss and Orion a little pat on his arm as she passed. Upstairs she knocked politely and Cody let her in. She glanced once at Elric, who sat on the bed with a sheet over his lower half. Then Cody had her attention while she showed him what she had brought with her. She had thought it might take awhile for him to decide but he went straight for one of the dresses she had brought, obviously knowing exactly what he wanted already.

“This one, will you change into this one please, Ms. Kat?”

Katay kissed the tip of his nose and disappeared again to go change. It wouldn’t have bothered her to change right there, but she had a feel for what Cody wanted now, and she thought making an un-staged entrance would be best.

The dress was an ivory cream color, soft satin folds in a heart shape over the bodice and wispy trails of silk and gauze filled the skirt. The waist sat low and it was slightly old fashioned the way it was cut, something from a different era. Tiny sparkles like glittering diamonds dusted the bodice and skirt. It could have been the dress of a princess.
When she was changed she stood outside the door and turned the knob slowly, to give Cody plenty of time if he wanted to snap pictures of Elric as she came in.

The door opened while Cody turned from doorway to bed, shutter clicking away. He felt he could have reached out and touched the sudden static charge that permeated the room. The camera caught the single moment of unguarded shock on the Prince’s face. He might not be allowed to use that one. Difficult to tell even then whether there had been actual anguish in those eyes, they shuttered so quickly.

He reached out a hand to the Ice Princess in his doorway and waited as she floated across the room to place her delicate hand in his. “Katya,” he murmured as he looked up at her. “I think if I could blush I vould be crimson. I feel so foolish.”

“Ah, my Prince,” Katya smiled warmly. “Why should you feel foolish? Think of the beautiful art Cody will make. It’s a small price to pay, no?”

He managed a soft chuckle. “It most certainly vill be beautiful now thet you are here. The dress is exquisite.”

“Sir?” Cody hesitated to interrupt the interaction. “If we could fold the sheet back again? Not as if you have anything Ms. Kat hasn’t seen before. Ms. Katya, maybe settle on the edge there next to him? Oh, that’s perfect.”

Kat sat down as Elric rearranged the sheet. Neither were exactly comfortable, Katya mostly because she felt Elric’s discomfort. She thought they were spoiling Cody’s work, but he kept clicking away. After a few moments though he started to give little bits of direction again. He wanted Katya to lean a little closer. Elric to lift his hand.

When he did so it felt natural to brush his fingers along a strand of Katya’s long hair and Cody took several rapid shots. Katya was still leaning close, but looking away from him. When she turned her head back toward him Cody asked her to move closer yet, as if she were going to kiss him.

Bending slowly at the waist she closed the distance between them until her lips hovered a scant breath above his, her eyes almost closed, dark lashes casting shadows on her cheeks. Her hand had automatically come up to brace herself lightly on his chest.

His fingers touched her cheek, breeze soft. He lifted his head a fraction. Their lips brushed, then met in a soft kiss. “Anna,” he whispered against her lips as his chest hitched on a breath under her palm.

Abruptly, he pulled back and reached for the sheet. “Cody, no more. Please.”

Katya sensed the sudden distress, even if his voice was steady. “Cody…” She looked over at him. “Would you…?” She inclined her head toward the door and he nodded quickly, and left them alone, closing the door behind him.

Kat gave Elric some space, but she still held his hand lightly. “Are you alright?”

The corner of his mouth twitched up in an ironic half-smile. “Forgive me, Katya. A moment’s dislocation. In thet dress, in this light, vith your hair just so, you bear an eerie resemblance to someone else.”

Katya looked down at their hands and ran her thumb gently over the back of his knuckles. “I’m sorry.”

“Ach, my dear, it is not something you could help.” He lifted her hand to kiss her fingers. “You should never apologize for your beauty.”

Katya looked into his eyes. He hadn’t worn the contacts today so they were a pale pale blue. She liked his real eyes better. “I was… offering my sympathy. She must have been very special to cause you to react like that.” It was her turn to lift his hand and she brushed the softness of her cheek across the back. It was a gesture of friendship, comfort, maybe something more, she wasn’t sure.

“She vas,” he answered softly. Though reserved and inward turned, something about Katya inspired trust, or perhaps it was because of her reserve that he trusted her. So like him in certain ways. “My Annalise, my wife.”

He turned his hand to cup her cheek, surprised at the softness. She had always seemed made of ice and steel.

Katya turned her face, soft lips kissing the thick part of his thumb ever so softly. She wasn’t sure this was a good idea, but there was a definite attraction. He was beautiful, yes, but she knew many gorgeous men. Maybe it was they were both so strong, and yet neither tried to out-Dom the other.

He sat up slowly as if afraid sudden movements would drive her away. His hand slid into her glorious hair, spun gold in his fingers. He leaned in for a soft kiss, a whisper soft brush of lips. “Katya, vith me no is no. At any point. If you tell me ve should not, I shall not pursue or sulk. Ve are…complicated, you and I, our reactions perheps a bit different from others.”

Katya’s fingers glided in a silken caress over his arm. She had only to move the slightest bit to close the distance between their lips again, another whisper soft kiss, and then a little deeper and the kiss suddenly caught fire, hot enough to melt the room.

They came apart both breathing hard, the spark ignited between them like a fierce bright flame. For a moment it seemed they would let it consume them, and then they both eased back at the same time, flowing apart like silk on silk until they no longer touched. “Elric…perhaps this isn’t a good idea.” Katya said in a soft, reasonable tone.

In a soft rustle of silk she stood, ethereal as she moved through the gauzy curtains around the bed. She paused at the door and turned back. “However, one never knows when it might become a good idea.” She slipped though the door and left him with that warm purr of a chuckle floating back to him.

The Prince let out a soft snort, frustrated and amused at himself for it. She was all too right, though. The mood he was in would have made lovemaking with her more a conjuring of ghosts than truly a connection with her.

Out in the hall, Cody waylaid her for a few more walking shots of his Ice Princess and then called it a day. “I think I’ve got plenty to work with. Is he all right, Ms. Kat?”

Katya wrapped her hand around Cody’s offered arm and she kissed his cheek. “Yes.” She answered without hesitation. “He will be fine, my dear.” As they neared the stairs she paused to give Cody a warmer, sweeter kiss at the corner of his mouth. “Do you need to run home and develop those right away?” She asked. “I was hoping you and Victor might come for dinner.” Her tone wasn’t suggestive, but it didn’t have to be.

“Oh, I’ll have to ask Vic. You know how he gets,” Cody said all too seriously. He laughed when she swatted his arm. “You know he’ll say yes to you, Ms. Kat.”

Elric’s hips lifted to let Orion peel his leathers down to mid-thigh. He had no idea what had possessed the big man to beg for this but it was a pleasant sort of surprise. On his knees, Orion moved closer between his thighs and breathed along the swiftly-hardening alabaster shaft.

A soft sound of pleasure vibrated in Elric’s chest as Orion closed his lips over the base, sucking gently. He combed his fingers through the honey blond mane, encouraging him to continue as he pleased.

The knock on the library door should have annoyed him but it was after six in the evening, so no one was in the house except Keit. He eased a booted foot into Orion’s lap to tease him and called out, “Come.”

Keit slipped through the door and came halfway into the room before he noticed Orion was doing more than just kneeling behind their Dom’s desk. He had been distracted by his own thoughts. “Oops…” he said, coming to a halt. “I’m sorry, Sir, I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

Half-lidded red eyes regarded him with sultry heat, the Prince’s voice soft and cool as silk when he spoke. “If I hed not vished to be disturbed, I vould not hef told you to come in, mein herz.”

He shifted, fingers tightening in Orion’s hair as those soft lips took him in farther. “Do you hef anything on the stove?”

It took a heartbeat or two for the question to register and for Keit to formulate a response. With one thing after another and having extended guests and everything else that had been going on, it had been a little while since Elric had invited him to his bed.

“No, sir,” he said, trying not to sound too eager and hopeful but it came out that way anyway.

“Strip for me, herzchen,” Elric said with a little half smile tugging at his lips. “Two.”

He watched with hungry eyes until Keit stood naked, feet spread, hands behind his back. While he had been glad to be able to help his friends and, in a way, had enjoyed having a full and bustling house, the relief of having his privacy returned was an astounding aphrodisiac. He debated taking his boys right there on his desk but decided he wanted more.

“Liebchen, undress,” he told Orion as he tugged his head up from his eager ministrations. “I think ve shall forgo sitting down to dinner tonight. But ve must go to the kitchen and hef a little something. My boys need to keep their strength up.”

It was a lovely little snack with both Orion and Keit stark naked except for their collars, Orion‘s heavy black leather and Keit‘s softer brown. He encouraged them to touch and kiss between bites of sandwiches, teasing each other and the Prince as well if he were willing to admit it. So beautiful together…

“Downstairs,” he ordered softly after they had eaten. He smiled at the way Orion scooped Keit up in his arms and practically ran for the basement steps.

Keit chuckled and wrapped his arms around Orion’s neck as he headed for the stairs. He was so glad the Prince was in a good mood, he hadn’t had too many of those lately. He hoped he could provide some much needed stress relief and was looking forward to some of his own.

Orion set him down on the floor and Keit lifted up on tiptoe to kiss him before they both took up the position.

Elric took his time on the stairs, thinking on his way down. So much he wanted, physically impossible to have everything at once. Although one could have several things in succession.

He stopped in front of Orion to stroke one huge arm. “Liebchen, nothing I do this evening is punishment. You understend this, ja?”

“Yes, mein herr,” Orion rumbled softly, his erection coming to full attention at his Prince’s touch. “You wish to play.”

“Yes, even so,” Elric said on a little laugh and then beckoned Orion over to his frame. Once he had him fastened in, spread eagle with his wrists and ankles manacled to the corners, he beckoned Keit to him. “And do you vish to play also, herzchen?”

“Yes, sir,” Keit said softly, though his body thrummed with anticipation.

“My good boy.” Elric took Keit under the chin and kissed him softly. “Orion hes his frame. You shall hef Orion.”

He put Keit up on the stepstool and had him wrap his arms around Orion’s neck. Red nylon cord wrapped around Keit’s forearms from elbow to elbow to keep him snugly in place. Then Elric helped him wrap his legs around Orion’s waist and used another long length of red cord to harness Keit to Orion’s body, leg’s tied behind the broad back, intricate knots joining their torsos together.

Keit’s erection lay trapped against the hard muscles of Orion’s abdomen; Orion’s lay along the crease between Keit’s lovely cheeks.

“You may kiss if you like. You may move as much as you are able,” Elric purred as he shrugged out of his shirt and took his bullwhip down from its hook. “You may make any sound you like. But you may not come vhile you are bound together.”

He cracked the whip in the air, the joy of being able to use it as he pleased again singing through him. “Are there qvestions?”

Keit kissed and nuzzled along Orion’s throat. “No, sir.”

Orion’s only answer was a soft, pleased rumble as he tipped his head back to give Keit better access.

“Good,” Elric whispered. He spun and struck, the whip’s end kissing along Keit’s bare foot. A taste, just a taste to warm them all up. He pulled the whip back and let it crack again, this time in a spare line along Orion’s hip. Paddles and floggers and such were all very nice but the whip was an instrument of precision and artistry. In an expert hand, it became an extension of the body, a brush with which to paint upon skin.

He put the whip down for a moment and retrieved two plugs and a tube of gel lubricant from the little chest on the table. He lubed the larger one first and stood behind Orion, stroking his back and shoulders as he eased the tip inside. Orion twitched and moaned and then relaxed nicely so he could push it in to the flange which would hold it in place.

The smaller one, the special one, was for Keit. He stepped around to show it to him, little silver studs winking on the end. “Do you know vhat this does, herzchen?”

He was betting it did wonderful things. “Does it vibrate, sir?”

“Ach, wie normal,” the Prince murmured in his ear. “No, süsselein, it gives electric shocks. Little vones at random moments. Does this interest you?”

Keit went still for a moment as he processed that information, the prospects intriguing and very arousing. “Yes, my Prince…” he whispered huskily.

“You are so perfect,” Elric murmured against his lips and kissed him soundly. He had tried the device out on his own skin, the level of electric stimulation just short of uncomfortable on his wrist. He could only imagine how it would feel inside. Gently, slowly, he eased it into Keit’s tight little channel, turned it on and picked up his whip again.

Now he was ready to begin in earnest. He cracked the whip on the floor twice, fair warning, and then hauled his arm back and struck. A delicate, reddening line appeared high on Keit’s thigh.

Keit drew in a sharp breath and then relaxed with a soft moan. A little roll of his hips rubbed the underside of his cock against Orion. That might become a problem, too much stimulation and he was going to have a hard time not coming. And then the plug inside him administered a sharp pulse and he was no longer as worried about overstimulation to his cock.

His whole body went taut. “Ohhhhh ffffu…” He compressed his lips.

The whip landed a stinging kiss to Orion’s shoulder. He jerked and let his head down to nestle in the crook of Keit’s neck. Another crack of the whip, this one brought him no sensations so it must have gone to the otter. The next licked along his inner thigh, the snap registering half a breath before the pain.

The otter moved against him again with a sharp moan and the pain underwent that strange shift, enveloping him, wrapping him close. The next fall of the whip caught him along the left biceps and he groaned, his hips pressing towards Keit, rubbing his shaft along his lovely backside.

Keit moved in sensual little rolls within the confines of his bonds. Every time the whip touched him it added another layer of sensation. Each little flex and press moved the plug inside him just a little and when it delivered an electrical pulse it was literally quite shocking. It was… intense. His whole body reacted to the charge, going rigid and then relaxing in such utter relief when the pulse stopped, only to be taken by the kiss of the whip again.

He didn’t think he’d ever dropped quicker into the deep quiet, where nothing existed except the pleasure and pain. He clung to Orion, kissing him feverishly wherever his lips touched.

He didn’t know how long it went on. Long enough for a light sheen of sweat to form on both his body and Orion’s, long enough for him to lose track of everything. Long enough for him to be very close to disobeying the Prince.

“Mm, mmm…” He whimpered, unable to make words come out for a moment and then managing to find his voice. “My Prince… ohhh… oh, please… I c-can’t.” His voice took on a panicked breathy pitch, “I’m gonna come…”

“No,” Elric ordered softly. “No you vill hold on.” He put the whip down, came to Keit and turned off the electrified plug. He waited until Keit’s breathing had slowed from all-out panic to simply overheated, then pulled the plug out slowly.

Though he had been quieter, Orion appeared in much the same state, glassy eyed, barrel chest heaving. Elric undid the ropes, helped Keit down and led him over to bend him over the side of a padded table. Then he unfastened Orion and bent him over the table next to Keit.

He leaned down to whisper in Keit’s ear, “You must vait, mein herz. Hold out for me.” When he straightened, he undid the buttons on his leathers, removed the plug from Orion and plunged inside.

Orion grunted and moaned, eyes squeezed shut, hips rolling against the leather-covered table.

Relief and a measure of control returned to Keit, and also that strange feeling of disappointed elation that came with having been brought so close only to be denied. He was glad he had not disobeyed his Dom and at the same time was in a desperately ecstatic agony of need watching him take Orion.

“Orion,” Elric whispered into the skin of Orion’s back. “Talk to me.”

That simple command was perhaps the most difficult thing he could have demanded while Orion was lost and floating. Orion struggled, ribs expanding in uneven breaths as his mind’s writhing matched his body’s.

“My angel…” he finally managed. “My love…”

“Yes, liebchen, vhat vould you ask of me?”

“Please…” Orion groaned and pushed back as Elric drove into him. “My Prince… please… say I may…”

“Yes. Come for me. Now.”

Orion cried out, hips pumping hard enough to rattle the heavy table, as he came in a sudden rush and plunge. When he quieted, Elric pulled out carefully and kissed his shoulders before he moved over to stand behind Keit.

His hands slid over Keit’s back and down to separate his cheeks. “Tell me your heart’s desire, herzchen.”

“My heart’s desire is you, my Prince…” Keit answered, his breath catching a little as Elric’s thumb caressed between his cheeks. “…to come while you take me, fill me.”

“Was für eine reizende Antwort,” Elric said in a tender murmur. “So lovely…”

He curled over to kiss the small of Keit’s back and settled his well-lubed head at Keit’s puckered entrance. His approach with Keit was less precipitous, much more gentle, but Keit was ready and it didn’t take more than a few slow thrusts to bury himself.

“Uhh…oh, my Prince,” Keit breathed. “Thank you…mmm, thank you.”

A huff of breath escaped Elric as he leaned over and wrapped his arms around Keit, his hips describing a steady, prostate-thumping rhythm. “Süsselein…oh…come vith me…now you may.”

Keit moaned and bucked his hips urgently, letting his tight control slide away.

“Ohhh…oh, yes…” The orgasm rose up and washed down over him in achingly sweet pulses of relief.

A short, sharp cry was all the Prince allowed himself but the release was no less sweet. He held Keit for a long time afterwards, drinking in his scent, the feel of his smooth skin, the comfort of having him wrapped around while his shaft softened.

Finally he gathered the energy to rise and help his boys upstairs where they cleaned up and snuggled down in the master bedroom. They opened the faux wardrobe across from the bed which housed the electronics so Orion could watch a PBS special on dark matter he had been waiting for.

Orion lay on his stomach with his head towards the foot of the bed, chin on his hands, while Elric sat against the headboard and held Keit close.

‘Süsselein,” he murmured so as not to disturb Orion. “I need you to apologize to Jerrett.”

Keit did not stiffen, but he went very still in Elric’s arms, partly because Elric had caught him completely off guard. Apologize to Jerrett? Jerrett should have apologized to him. “Is that a request, sir…or an order?” he asked softly.

“I vould prefer it not to be an order, mein herz.” Elric kissed the top of Keit’s head. “But I do not vish for this to become a Romeo and Juliet affair for Sasha. I vould hef peace betveen our houses.”

He took Keit gently under the chin to raise his face. “And consider, my beautiful boy, the things you did. It vas not your place to tell Sasha to stay avay from him. Neither vas it your place to deny him entrance to my house. Nor your place to berate him on the front lawn. You overstepped by a good many steps, my dear.”

Keit turned his cheek into Elric’s hand, closing his eyes. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and then let out his breath. “No, sir. It wasn’t.” No matter that Jerrett had been a shit to Sasha. No matter that Keit had been appalled that someone he invited to their home behaved in such a way. The reasons were unimportant. “I will talk to him, sir.”

“Good, thenk you.” Elric caught his lips in a tender kiss. “I did not say Jerrett hes behaved in a blameless feshion, mind you. But there are times to intervene and times not to.”

Keit sighed and put his head on Elric’s shoulder. “I know, my Prince. I know. I just…I felt responsible, in a way. I brought him here. I introduced him to Sasha. And then he treated him so bad… I shouldn’t have let my emotions get away like that, though. I’m sorry, sir.”

“I accept your apology, herzchen,” Elric answered at his driest. “Now you simply must do the same vith Jerrett.”

A couple days later Keit did say nearly the same to Jerrett, and for once Jerrett did not make him twist and squirm before they made up. Keit at first thought that had something to do with Elric, but he knew that wasn’t it almost as soon as he thought it. Jerrett was not intimidated by anyone.

With no small amount of surprise he realized the change of attitude just might be Sasha’s doing. That was truly amazing because although Jerrett had been in love once or twice before he had never made an effort to change, for anyone. Could it be that he was mellowing a little? The question left Keit quite bemused.

That evening Sasha was in the midst of giving Jerrett a rubdown when a question occurred to him. He was so happy he’d made up with Keit, especially since the apology seemed to have pleased Jerrett so much. One bridge rebuilt, at least.

He smoothed his hands down the gorgeous, chiseled muscles to work on Jerrett’s lower back and asked, “Sir? Have you…have you decided? About Anthony?”

“I’d rather not think about him.” Jerrett sighed. He turned his head toward Sasha. He didn’t mean to make Sasha worry and stew, but he didn’t have an answer for him yet.

By Tuesday, he had decided. He called Elric and made arrangements and on Thursday, just as Sasha was getting ready to leave for home, he opened the door in the front hall to find Jerrett.

“Well, hello! What are you…I mean, it’s nice to see you. Did you need to talk to the Prince, sir?”

Jerrett smiled, slid his arm around Sasha, and kissed his temple as he turned and let him in. “I am here to speak to Anthony tonight, little one,” he answered.

“Oh.” Sasha looked up at him with anxious eyes. “Did you…want me to wait for you at home, sir?”

“You may have your choice, Sasha,” Jerrett said softly. “Our talk will take place downstairs, it has already been arranged. You may stay if you wish, or you may go home and wait for me…whichever will make you less anxious.”

“I…oh…” Sasha wrapped his arms around Jerrett’s ribs, drawing strength from him. He would much rather have been told what to do. “I’ll…stay, sir, if it’s all right. Though I’d like to…like to stay up here if I could.”

Sasha made for the back of the house when the Ferrari roared up the drive. Never hard to guess when Anthony had arrived.

Out in the car, Anthony drummed his hands on the steering wheel before he got out. Damn, damn, damn. He’d said he wanted to apologize, said he would do anything… now he had a knot in his stomach the size of a freaking blimp worried about what the ‘anything’ would be.

Pain, he could take. Lots. Tons. But from what he’d heard, Hawthorn was a bit of a thinker. “Such men are dangerous,” he muttered as he walked up the steps. He took a deep breath and rang the bell.

Keit let Anthony in and led him to the stairs. Sasha’s car had been in the driveway, but there was no sign of him. Keit led him down to the Prince’s dungeon, respectful and solemn. There were more people in the basement than Anthony expected, Sasha conspicuously absent. For that he was grateful.

The Prince and Orion stood to one side and Keit joined them, leaving Anthony to stand on his own. Jerrett was there, of course, looking smug. Derelict was there also, and Vincent with Jonathan, though Drew was missing as well.

He was most surprised to see Katya’s stunning beauty amid the small crowd. He did not know her well, only met her once. She sat on a chair next to Vincent, resplendent in a curve-hugging bodysuit in shiny black pvc and thigh-high leather boots laced up the back. She looked regal, a queen and her court, despite that this little ‘kingdom’ usually belonged to the Prince.

Again, he was surprised that he was not greeted or instructed by either the Prince, or even Jerrett, but the Lady herself.

“Welcome, Anthony,” Katya said in a sultry, semi-amused purr.

“Thank you, Ma’am,” Anthony bobbed his head in greeting, managing to stop short of a bow.

“I bet you’re wondering what we’re all doing here, hm?” she said. “I was invited here tonight as an impartial judge, everyone else here is prosecution, witness, and jury.” She let that sink in for a moment. “Before the dashing Mr. Hawthorn will accept your apology, we shall determine how great the offense, and your punishment. Will you agree to this?”

He paced back and forth twice, taking in the grim, set faces of people he thought of as friends. Oh, not good, not good at all, not one freaking shred…

“Um, all right. But doesn’t everyone know what I did? I mean, it’s pretty cut and dry, ma’am. Not like it takes investigating or anything.”

“Who said this was about one infraction?” Katya asked with a slow smile. She leaned forward, placing her elbow on her crossed knee and her chin in her palm. “Apparently, you’ve been a bad boy on more than a single occasion…”

“Hold up, wait a sec! I’ve never, ever gone after anyone with a sword before!” Anthony waved his hands one over the other in frantic negation.

“Not that particular infraction, my dear,” the Prince broke in softly. “But a pettern of reckless behavior. Do you agree to the terms?”

Anthony swallowed hard. “Yes, sir.”

“Secure the prisoner,” Elric said with a slight gesture. Orion stepped forward to stand behind Anthony and Keit in front. Between them, they had Anthony stripped, shackled and on his knees before he knew what was happening.

Elric waved a hand towards Jonathan. “Herr Prosecutor, the floor is yours.”

“Judas,” Anthony hissed.

Jonathan ignored him. “What the court proposes to establish today is Mr. Dupree’s blatant disregard for his own safety and those around him. That his actions over the years show a clearly defined pattern of reckless, impulsive, dangerous behavior.

“I would like to call as my first witness Derek Schiller.”

Derelict stood with his arms crossed over his chest. He glowered at Jonathan. “I told you I didn’t want to do this.”

Jonathan turned to Katya. “Your honor, may I have the witness classified as hostile?”

Katya tried to keep her lips from twitching. Gawd… Jonathan was just perfect for this. She cleared her throat, “You may,” she answered.

“Thank you, your honor. Does the witness understand what this means?”

“Hell, no,” Der growled.

Vincent reached up to pat his arm. “Sh, Der, goodness. It just means you don’t have to really testify. Just answer yes or no questions.”

“Oh. All right. I guess.”

“Mr. Schiller, there was a time last summer when you and Mr. Dupree engaged in ‘bicycle jousting’. Is this true?”

Der ducked his head on a chuckle at the memory. “Yes.”

“And as I understand it, this involves each individual holding a long pole with a padded end riding bicycles at top speed towards each other, with the intent of knocking the other person off. Is this correct?”

“Yes.” The answer came out more guarded.

“And is it also true that there was, one Saturday afternoon, a pedestrian, an elderly pedestrian, who was caught in the midst of this…activity?”

“Well, yes, but–”

“Yes or no, please, Mr. Schiller.”

“Yes.”

“And a trip to the hospital was necessary for this woman?”

“Yes, but it was just–”

“Thank you, Mr. Schiller. That will be all.”

“Hey! Don’t I have a, like a, you know, public defender or something?” Anthony blurted out in desperation. “I mean, the old lady just broke a finger and it wasn’t that bad and… and…” He trailed off at the looks he got.

“Mr. Dupree will be acting as his own defense counsel, I understand,” Jonathan said, rocking on his heels. “Was there something you wished to add in your defense, sir?”

“No…um…thanks.”

Are you sure?” Jonathan purred in a sugary-sweet tone.

Katya’s ankle rotated slowly, like the lazy swish of a cat’s tail. “Proceed, Mr. Kemp,” she said dryly.

“Yes, your honor.” Jonathan gave her a nod, all business again. “For my next witness, I would like to call Vincent Lastrada.”

Vincent held up a hand. “Present.”

“Thank you, sir. Now, Mr. Lastrada, do you recall a birthday party two years ago for a Mr. Tao Lien?”

“Yes, I do. Rather vividly.”

“And would you be so kind, sir, as to relate what happened at this party between Mr. Dupree and a young man by the name of Gem?”

“Ah, well, Gem was Tao’s lover at the time. I don’t believe Anthony, Mr. Dupree, was terribly fond of him.”

“I object!” Anthony called out.

“On what grounds?” Jonathan purred.

“’Cause it’s opinion and it’s not supposed to be evidence and all that and…speculation! That’s the word!”

Katya reached over to pat Vincent’s arm. “Please stick to the facts, Mr. Lastrada.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Vincent’s smile for Katya faded before he went on. “At about seven or so, Tao came out of the house with a black eye. When we asked what had happened, Tao said he had run into a door. Anthony yelled, the court will pardon me, please, ‘Bullshit!’ and rushed into the house where he proceeded to punch Gem in the face. Just once, thankfully, but it did put him out. It turned out that a certain young woman had opened the bathroom door too fast and had, indeed, smacked Tao in the eye and his lover hadn’t touched him.”

“Thank you, Mr. Lastrada, you’ve been very helpful,” Jonathan said with a soft smile.

Anthony yanked at his chains. “OK, so I didn’t know! It’s not like the guy hadn’t been beating on Tao! He had! I was just doing what someone should have done before!”

“There’s no need to shout,” Katya said to Anthony in a soft tone that nonetheless carried a sting of ice needles. She waited until he subsided and then waved a hand to Jonathan. “Continue, please.”

“Thank you, your honor.” Jonathan turned to where Elric stood. “I have one last witness to call, if he would be so kind. Prince Elric von Melnibone.”

“I am pleased to be of assistance, Herr Prosecutor,” Elric said with an ironic little bow.

“Thank you, highness. Could you please tell the court what happened at your Samhain celebration two years ago?”

“Of course. It vas vell attended. Perhaps a hundred guests or so. Some of the guests hed gone out to the front lawn since it vas a hot night. Out of the night, ve heard horses hooves and a frightening epperition appeared. The Headless Horseman, on his bleck charger. Brendishing his saber, he rode straight toward my guests, his steed rearing and pawing as they scettered.”

“And the identity of the Headless Horseman, your highness?”

“Anthony Etienne Dupree.”

Jonathan looked at Anthony to see if he had anything to say but he had hung his head and only muttered, “No one got hurt…”

“Thank you Jonathan, dear,” Katya said. “You may return to your place.” Which was of course by Vince’s side. She patted his arm affectionately, stood, and paced slowly to Anthony.

“Do you have anything more to say for yourself, Anthony?” she asked when she stood directly before him.

He shook his head. “No, ma’am.”

“It seems to me a bit of a pattern emerged, wouldn’t you agree? Whether you’re having a bit of a lark, or you’re full of righteous anger, you have a habit of endangering not only yourself, but also anyone nearby. Do you really think this behavior acceptable?”

“No, ma’am,” he said in a small voice.

“Neither do I,” Katya said. “How do you plead?”

“No contest, ma’am. I can’t defend my actions.”

She pushed her fingers into his hair and made him look up while she bent, almost as if she were going to kiss him. Her lips stopped short though, a few inches above his. “I find you guilty, Anthony. Guilty of reckless endangerment. Lack of forethought. And little to no self control.”

She released him and waved Jerrett to come forward. “I sentence you to be flogged until I am satisfied you are repentant. You may, of course, make your sincerest apologies whenever you are ready.” She turned to go back to her seat.

“You may begin,” she said to Jerrett.

He gave her a slightly arched brow at her ‘permission’ but then turned his attention to the task at hand, letting the tails of the flogger slide though his fingers. He stood directly in front of Anthony, his booted feet slightly apart, an easy, comfortable stance. “Put your forehead on my boot. Do not rise until I allow it.”

It was the first he had spoken and the tone was a marked contrast to most of the other Doms present. Where they exuded cool and calm, this one’s voice was full of heat and the threat of pain, unpredictable, like a lightening strike.

Jerrett waited until Anthony lowered his forehead to the toe of his boot. He pulled back and then came down with the full force of his arm behind the blow.

Katya straightened and her lips compressed. Lack of finesse was one thing, but that blow had been simple brutality born of anger. “Unless you want that to be the end of this punishment, I’d lighten your stroke, Jerrett.” The way she said his name was like an angry whip crack in the room.

Jerrett gave her a little nod of acknowledgment but his lips were curled in a sneer. The next fall of the flogger was by no means light, but was more artfully administered and with less force than the first.

Still, Katya had begun with a general idea to let him go about ten minutes or so, and ended up calling a halt after five. “Enough.” The word sliced through the room, but was still cool and calm. What she wanted to say was ‘Chrissakes, I hope you don’t treat your boy like that!’.

“Sit up,” Jerrett barked. “Look at me.” When Anthony complied Jerrett said, “Sasha counts you as a friend, which is the one and only reason I will accept your apology. Do not ever try to come between us again.” He dropped the flogger on the floor in front of him and walked away, a measure of the heat and anger that crackled around him drained off.

Tears ran down Anthony’s cheeks. His hands were shackled behind him and he couldn’t wipe them away, couldn’t pretend they weren’t there. The pain was pretty damn incredible but he could have withstood more. He wished Katya hadn’t called a halt since he deserved so much more.

“Please, sir,” he began softly, his voice a wispy specter of its usual overexcited exuberance. “Please…I am sorry. That I came after you like that. Threatened you. I…if you’d seen him…what he did to himself…I lost my head. It was a stupid thing to do and even though I didn’t mean to really hurt you…I could have. I’m very sorry…I hope you can forgive me someday. I won’t try to come between you, I won’t. I just want him to be happy. Please. Even if you tell me I can’t see him ever again…I want him to be happy.”

“You can ask him yourself if he’s happy,” Jerrett said without stopping.

Elric touched Keit’s arm, made a gesture and Keit immediately went to Anthony’s side to unfetter him and help him up. He held Anthony gently while he got the chains undone, wiping the tears from his cheeks and offering a bit of comfort because he knew Jerrett would not.

“Orion, will you help Anthony up the stairs to go see Sasha, please?” Keit asked quietly and Orion took Anthony’s other arm, pulled him up with ease and steered him toward the stairs.

Keit returned to Elric’s side, needing a bit of comforting himself. He kept his eyes firmly on the floor and his expression carefully blank.

It didn’t fool Jerrett, who was standing near Elric. “You don’t approve, Keit?” he asked unnecessarily. He knew by the way Keit was behaving he was not happy.

“It’s not my place to approve or disapprove, sir,” he answered mildly.

Jerrett smiled, very good, point for him. “But you don‘t approve, I can tell.”

Keit struggled with his words for a moment and then just stated the obvious. “You were…harsh, sir.”

“Not as harsh as I could have been, and you know that,” Jerrett said in a low murmur.

Keit only inclined his head in acknowledgement.

“You’ve made your point, Jerrett. There’s no need to belabor it,” Katya broke in.

Jerrett turned toward her, his brow arched and a little ironic smile on his lips. “You don’t approve either?”

Katya chuckled softly. “Do not try to play intimidation games where you are clearly out of your league.” She did not add ‘boy’, but the little pause was clear enough. “It might not be Keit’s place to call you on the carpet, but I certainly can. That was a pitiful display.”

Jerrett laughed, but it sounded a trifle uneasy. Everyone here had been in agreement with him that Anthony had gone too far and must be reined in. That sort of equated to them being ‘on his side’. Now he felt the tide turning. “I don’t believe I invited you to give me a dressing down, Ms. Katya.”

Kat smiled sweetly, at her most angelic, as she slowly stood. If Xavier had been there he probably would have frantically tried to tell Jerrett to start groveling, or maybe just run.

“I don’t believe I need an invitation, you irresponsible, arrogant, petulant child.” Katya took a few steps toward him, and somehow managed to make him look little and insignificant even though she was a full head and shoulders under his height. “He was contrite, he understood what was being said and why, you merely had to reinforce the lesson. Instead you took the opportunity to vent you anger. Stupid.” She spit the word out.

“You never, ever punish in anger. The line between domination and abuse should never blur. You want to teach a lesson about self control you damn well better first know what that is to begin with. If I ever hear of you going after someone with a flogger, whip, or even a bare hand in anger, Anthony coming after you with a sword will be the least of your worries. Is that perfectly clear?”

Jerrett cleared his throat. “Yes, ma’am.”

Keit’s head whipped around so hard his neck popped. His mouth hung open. Was that actual contrition in Jerrett’s voice? He had expected him to blast her back. He had been cringing inwardly, waiting for the backlash. He was frankly amazed that Jerrett could even bend this far to admit he might… just might, have done something inappropriate. He managed not to say ‘holy shit!’ out loud.

“Good,” Katya said. “Now stop playing with Anthony and go accept his apology for real. He earned it, and Sasha will pick up something’s not right unless you do.”

Jerrett sighed, but he inclined his head in a gentlemanly gesture and headed up the stairs to do as she asked. Keit stared after in utter amazement until he disappeared and then looked at Katya like she had just performed some kind of magic. Katya winked at him and gave him a warmer smile.

Up in the kitchen, Anthony had halted his escort.

“Hold up, Orion,” he murmured. “I don’t…want Sasha to see me like this.” Orion looked puzzled so he went on. “Dressed…wanna get dressed first.”

He tried, first with an attempt to sit in a chair to get his pants on. Big mistake. God. Ow. Then standing, which would have had him flat on his face if Orion hadn’t caught him. The big man took pity and helped him get his feet into one pants leg and then the other. Maybe he was hurt worse than he thought. Weird how that worked. The after-pain was often so much worse than the during-pain. Worked that way when he hit a bad landing jousting, too.

At the back of the house in the den, Sasha snuggled closer to Drew. They looked for all the world like two lost waifs in a storm, huddled together on the leather couch. Drew had reached for Sasha’s hand first, since he shook so badly, but they had both needed someone’s arms, the tension in the house palpable.

“What do you think they’re doing down there?” Sasha whispered. “All this time?”

Drew was kind enough not to say what he really thought was going on. “Probably talking, Sasha. Don’t worry, Vince told me they weren’t going to fight. No one’s going to get hurt.”

A moment later Anthony walked in with Orion. Perhaps hobbled would have been a better word. He had on a bright smile and straightened from Orion’s support to hold out his arms but Sasha wasn’t fooled one bit.

Though he wanted to rush into those open arms, he forced himself to a slow, gentle approach and reached up to smooth Anthony’s white-blond spikes when his arms folded him close.

“How bad, hon?” Sasha whispered.

“Oh, now, none of that, sweet thistle pie,” Anthony told him cheerfully. “I’m up, I’m walking, better than I do after work some days. It’s so damn good to see you, you just don’t know. I’ve missed you so.” He stopped to take Sasha’s face between his hands. “I’m supposed to ask you, and I would have anyway, are you happy these days, sweetie?”

Sasha wasn’t certain which answer would be worse for his poor Anthony. He settled for the truth. “Yes. I am.”

“Good. All right. Good.” Anthony nodded, his smile a little lopsided now. Sasha wasn’t going to see him upset though, no, no, no. And he wasn’t really. Upset. It was more of a tight, melancholy feeling, a bit of loss, a bit of realization.

“I’m even happier now that I can talk to you again.”

Anthony laughed. “Don’t you just say the sweetest things?”

Drew smiled; they were cute together. Personally, and very privately, he thought these two would have been a much better match than Sasha and Jerrett. He didn’t know what Sasha saw in him…well, other than his looks. Jerrett was gorgeous, no doubt, but Drew got uneasy whenever he was around, and he hoped he never had to be alone with the guy.

Speaking of which, he thought it might be a good idea to give Anthony and Sasha a few moments alone. He got up and took Orion’s hand to lead him back out into the hall.

Drew walked down the hall with Orion and as they neared the front parlor, Jerrett turned the corner. Drew moved out of his way and Jerrett gave him and Orion a little nod as he went past.

When Jerrett reached the den, he actually gave a polite tap on the door before entering. He tried not to bristle at the sight of Anthony’s arms around Sasha, and he was fairly successful. He didn’t snap and snarl although it was an effort not to pull Sasha away. He closed the door behind him.

“So, what’s the verdict?” Jerrett asked mildly. “Does he look well enough taken care of?”

Anthony backed off a step, unsure if he was being baited or tested or if the question was simply a prelude to something awful no matter what he said. “Yes, sir,” he offered softly.

Jerrett wasn’t quite sure what to say now. He wasn’t good at this sort of thing. He moved closer to them and lifted his hand to stroke Sasha’s cheek with one finger. unaware of the affectionate look on his face, or the way it softened his handsome features.

To Anthony he said, “I do understand losing one’s head. Especially when it stems from an overprotective streak.” His eyes moved from Sasha to Anthony. “No real harm was done, let’s just put it behind us.”

“Yes, sir.” Anthony tried to run a hand through his hair, an automatic gesture, but it pulled his back. He winced and put his hand down, trying for more casual as he leaned a hip against a nearby recliner for support. “I guess maybe I should ask for terms. Or at least rules of engagement, right?”

Here it was again, someone asking Jerrett to lay down the rules when he hadn’t really given it much thought. He crossed his arms and drummed his fingers restlessly. “I don’t mind if you’re friends with Sasha, call, hang out, hugs, whatever… but that’s about it. I’m a selfish, greedy bastard and I don’t share very well. It never seems to work out.”

“Selfish, greedy bastard, got it,” Anthony said with the crooked little grin he had when he wasn’t sure someone would take his teasing. It was probably way too early to be teasing Jerrett but he couldn’t help himself. “All right, good, good, I can do that. Is it all right if he stays after work Mondays and Fridays to watch the fencing? I, ah, always do better if he’s watching. The Prince has just been slaughtering me lately.”

“And that’s supposed to encourage me to let him stay and watch?” Jerrett asked.

Sasha spoke up when he saw Anthony’s face. “He’s teasing you,” he offered softly. With Jerrett it was often hard to tell, but Sasha was learning.

Jerrett raised an eyebrow at Sasha, but gave a small smile to Anthony. “Yes, he may stay and watch, if he wants to.”

“Thank you, sir.” Anthony’s grin turned up the wattage. “And you’re certainly welcome, too, sir, if you want to come on the nights his highness wants to use the epée so you can really watch him beat up on me.”

Downstairs, Elric turned to speak to Vincent and spotted Der leaned up against the wall. “Are you all right, mein schatz?”

“Yes, sir…grayed out there for a little. I’m better now,” Derelict answered on a slow breath.

“Good boy. I hed vondered if there might be a need to carry you beck up.” A little frown of concern creased Elric’s forehead. Jonathan had crawled into Vincent’s lap, his face hidden in the crook of his Dom’s neck. “Is he out?”

Vincent shook his head. “Simply distressed. He did so well, though.”

“I don’t feel like I did,” Jonathan muttered before he sat up to wipe a hand over his face. “Oh, man. That was rough. Is Sasha really safe with that monster? I mean, he’s so sweet and so…um…compliant. I just can’t see him speaking up to say no if something’s too much.”

“Sasha hed to be taught to say no,” Elric said. “And Jerrett is far from being a monster.”

Jonathan shivered hard. “I sure as hell don’t want him touching me.”

“Sasha is safe with him.” Keit said. “Jerrett might step all over his feelings, but he’d never hurt him physically.” Jonathan gave him a skeptical look and Keit shrugged. “That was probably the harshest I’ve ever seen him with a flogger, and he still didn’t leave any lasting marks. He chose a cat with flat tails when he could have picked one of the braided rawhides, or one with weights. Yeah, he beat the crap out of Anthony, but he could have left him a bloody mess.” Keit stopped with a tiny frown. Why the hell was he defending Jerrett? Again?

Katya watched the little exchange with interest. Whether she agreed with Jerrett’s methods or not, she had to admit it was creative. He could have just blasted Anthony with a list of wrongdoings, or simply flogged him until his arm wore out. Neither of which would probably have made any sort of lasting impression other than to leave Anthony feeling they were even. This way he saw it wasn’t just Jerrett who disapproved of some of the things he did and Jerrett was at least making a small effort to learn to be a better Dom.

Footsteps on the stairs drew her attention. Orion’s large frame appeared and then Drew right behind him. Such a little cutie that Drew. It was hard to picture him as he used to be. She had thought it would be more difficult to forgive someone who had hurt her Xavier so much, who had played a hand in disrupting their lives to such a degree. In actuality she found it hard to even think of him as the same person. She had to smile, he looked so incongruous dressed in jeans, jersey, and flip-flops.

If there had been any doubt left at all regarding Drew’s effect on people, the way every head turned towards him and the way three dark-haired young men lit up at the mere sight of him would have erased any lingering question.

Elric had to suppress a chuckle at the instant change in mood. He held out his hands for Orion. “All is vell upstairs, liebchen?”

“Calm waters, mein herr,” Orion answered as he lifted each white hand to kiss his Dom’s fingers. “The panther pulls his claws with the minnow near.”

“Ohmygod,” Jonathan stage whispered. “I understood what he said.”

“Prectice, kleine fuchs, it simply takes prectice,” Elric said on a soft laugh. He leaned up to kiss Orion’s cheek and then turned to offer his hands to Katya. “Thenk you so much, geehrte Dame, for agreeing to this. Jerrett hed requested thet I play judge but I am hardly impartial vhere Anthony is concerned. And your beauty is a much velcome sight in my rether grim dungeon.”

“Mm, you’re welcome. Always a pleasure to serve,” she said with a smile, making Jonathan choke on a stifled laugh and Der chuckle.

Elric was far too gentlemanly to do either. Ah, if he were younger, and if either one of them had even the slightest ability to bend– but he suspected Katya could not give up an ounce more control than he could, perhaps for many of the same reasons.

“So it is,” he said with a little smile, knowing she understood him perfectly.

Drew tried hard not to get crabby, but two weeks without any relief and he went from a normal healthy appetite to sex-crazed. The first week had been easy, he’d been so upset and depressed he hadn’t felt like getting laid anyway. But after Vince told him Der could come back after only two weeks the mood in the house changed. Everyone was more at ease and Drew’s sex drive came back. It did not help that Vince and Jonathan had no such restrictions. Every time he heard them it drove him nuts.

At that moment he was helping Jonathan with dinner, absently making salads while he watched Jonathan’s ass swish around the kitchen. He tried not to fantasize, it only made things frustratingly uncomfortable. He had to close his eyes as an image came to mind of Jonathan leaning him up against the countertop and clutching his naked hips, he could almost feel the way Jonathan would slide his pants down and rub between his cheeks. He swallowed hard when in his fantasy Jonathan entered him hard and panted in his ear. Oh god did he want that, so bad.

“Drew…sweetie,” Jonathan called for the third time. “Drew!” He shook his head when the boy startled. “You’ve been tearing that same poor piece of lettuce for the past five minutes. I’m not sure anybody could eat it now except ants.”

“Sorry,” he murmured.

“You okay?” Jonathan asked, rubbing a hand across Drew’s shoulders.

Drew groaned and turned toward him, slipping his arms around Jonathan’s waist. “Yeah,” he answered soft and breathy, his lips nearly bushing the side of Jonathan’s throat. He moved his lips upward, not actually touching but so close he could feel the heat of Jonathan’s skin on his lips. He blew a warm breath across Jonathan’s ear just how he knew Jonathan liked. His hands trailed down Jonathan’s back ever so lightly to the swell of his butt.

With a groan he pulled away, a pained expression on his face.

Jonathan chewed on his bottom lip, forehead creased in concern. “My poor sweetie. I’ve tried so hard not to tease but I’m doing it just by being here, huh?”

Drew nodded.

“And saying it’s just a few more days doesn’t help much, I know. Look, when Vince’s had me on lock down, I had to find something to keep my head from exploding.” Jonathan returned to chopping peppers to keep his hands busy. “I add numbers. Long, long strings of them. It helps, believe it or not. Point is, you’ve got all this extra, pent up energy, you have to find something to do with it. Some people do physical things. Run, pull ups, heavy lifting, whatever. But you have to learn to distract yourself.”

“I’ll try.” Drew said quietly. Not numbers though. Counting was what he’d used to do when he wanted to pretend whatever was happening to him wasn’t really happening. Jonathan didn’t know that though, and Drew didn’t want him to know he’d touched a nerve.

The next few days dragged on forever. By Saturday, when Der was supposed to come over and he would finally get the cock cage taken off, Drew was glancing at the clock every five minutes.

Vincent passed him at one point and stopped to whisper in his ear. “One of the unwritten corollaries to the laws of relativity is that time expands when someone thinks about it. Go help Jonathan.”

Easier said than done, since Jonathan was in whirlwind mode in the kitchen and tended to smack anyone’s fingers that touched a single thing. He did take pity on Drew, though.

“Here, sweetie.” He handed Drew a plate of homemade truffles from the fridge. “Put these out in the living room for before dinner. And then you can start on the table. I want the cream and red china and the little claw-foot flatware.”

Drew took the tray of treats and his fingertips itched to snitch just oooonne.

“Don’t you dare,” Jonathan warned.

Drew sighed, but he was smiling as he took the tray out and worked on setting the table just so to meet Jonathan’s exacting standards

Up in Der’s apartment, a familiar scene played out. He stood in his underwear, digging through his closet, various items already scattered about while the cats watched from the bed.

“What does a penitent wear?” he muttered to a shirt with leather cuffs. “Besides sackcloth. I mean, really, what is sackcloth, anyway?”

“Mrrra-eh,” Elektra said with definite impatience.

“Not that one? All right, fine…” He went back to rummaging until a rustle caught his attention. Eurydice was in the act of pushing all the leather pants he had laid out onto the floor. With this accomplished, both she and Elektra flopped down on a pair of soft, black wool slacks.

“Hmm, right, yes. Leather would be a bit cocky, I suppose. Such smart girls I have.”

“Mew-rah.”

But what to go with it? This was ridiculous and beyond the usual dating jitters. An anxious knot had lodged in his stomach all day which made no sense. Vincent was inviting him back. He would be allowed to see his loves again. This was a good thing.

Maybe it was the fear of screwing up again. No doubt.

The radio played softly in the background. He barely paid it any mind until a husky female voice belted out, “Black velvet and that little boy’s smile…”

Der chuckled. “But of course. Thank you, Ms. Alannah.” He pulled out a black velvet shirt and a flocked brocade Edwardian frock coat for a bit of formality. Hair brushed, knee-high boots pulled on over the wool slacks, he felt as ready as he ever would.

Strange how things tended to circle around and around. He’d done this before, he knew he had. He straightened his coat, smoothed back his hair and rang the bell.

Drew rushed to go get the door, almost as nervous at the one on the other side of it. He flung it open and grabbed Der in a fierce embrace.

“Oof…hey, there,” Der murmured into Drew’s hair. “Gods…it’s good to see you, sugar bear.”

“It’s good to see you, too,” Drew said in a hoarse whisper, although he wasn’t really ‘seeing’ him as he had his eyes squeezed shut and his face buried against Der’s chest. It had been so damn hard to go two whole weeks without being able to talk to him, to tell him he wasn’t mad at him, to let him know he didn’t blame him a bit…especially after Ethan and Quinn had come and hinted those were things Der was worried about.

After a few more moments Drew finally moved enough to let Der come in and led him to the living room where Vince had been waiting.

Without hesitation or hello, Der strode across the room and sank to one knee in front of Vincent. He looked into those endlessly deep, dark eyes and said, “I broke my promise, I betrayed your trust. I told you, with cavalier arrogance, that I would always look out for him. And you still want to forgive me?”

Vincent reached out and ran a finger down Der’s jaw. “There’s a two inch scar on your chest that says you’ve tried to look out for him as best you could.”

“I’m so sorry, Vincent.” Der leaned his head against that beloved hand. “I won’t say I’ll never screw up again, but I’m so sorry I hurt you.”

“Sh, enough now. I forgive you, dearheart, I’ve already said so.” He leaned in to whisper against Der’s lips, “My troubadour, my first love…”

The soft kiss they shared nearly made the air crackle and Der looked a bit dazed when he pulled back.

“I was just scared you’d change your mind,” he said with a crooked smile.

Drew came up quietly beside them, now that they seemed to have sorted things out between them. He still did not agree that Der really bore any responsibility for what had happened, but he was very happy Vince forgave him. The guilt he had struggled with despite Vince’s punishment washed over him again. He’d almost destroyed this, almost ruined everything.

He didn’t care what Vince said about temptation. Drew should have… well, he should have done a lot of things differently. How could he not have he learned his lesson? After Xavier, after Orion, after Suzy, and now Brandon. Every time he slept with someone else it ended with a terrible load of hurt.

He tried to shove those thoughts aside. This was supposed to be a happy occasion. He shouldn’t let the weight of guilt and depression drag him down. Not tonight.

Still on his knees, Der took Drew’s hand to kiss his fingers. He looked as if he had something to say, drew in a deep breath and stopped with a puzzled expression. “The whole house smells like…chocolate.”

Drew smiled then, and slid into Vince lap, still holding Der’s hand. “Jonathan’s making a special dinner in your honor.”

“Really?” Der blinked. “A dinner entirely of chocolate? That doesn’t sound like his Fussiness’ usual balanced meal.”

“Not out of chocolate, twit,” Jonathan’s voice preceded him down the hall. “But with chocolate, yes. You’ll just have to wait.” Despite his growling he came and took Der’s face between his hands for a kiss. “You doing all right, you big dork?”

“I am now, beautiful,” Der answered with a soft smile. He’d figured out long ago that Jonathan only called him names because he loved him.

“Good.” He handed Der the plate of truffles. “Have a bite. Try to behave for five minutes. Dinner’s almost ready.”

Der took a bite of one of the dark ones and heaved a sigh of pleasure as he watched Jonathan walk away. “Oh, I have missed that.”

Drew steadfastly did not look. The suggestive tone in Der’s voice already prickled over his skin. Der made a pleased rumble as the chocolate melted on his tongue and Vince’s cool scent was right under his nose and he felt the sudden press against sensitive areas as his cock tried to swell in the confines of its cage.

“Dinner first, my kestrel,” Vincent murmured when he felt Drew’s little squirm. “Der, could you please try to be a proper gentleman until then? Our poor Drew is still, ah, in harness.”

“Oh?” Der’s eyes widened and he put the plate down on the coffee table. “Ooohhh…sorry. Sorry.” He retreated to the sofa to arrange himself in a proper, dignified pose and put on an aristocratic English accent. “So, Vincent, old bean, how has your portfolio fared this season?”

His heart leaped when he pulled a little laugh from Drew.

Exactly five minutes later, Jonathan called them in to dinner and, oh, what a dinner it was. Der thought he had died and ended up somewhere much nicer than he deserved. They began with a little bowl of (who would have thought?) chocolate soup with raspberries which was followed by cocoa and coffee encrusted beef with rice in a mole sauce and a zucchini dish with orange and paper thin, tiny slivers of cocoa shavings.

By the time they reached the chocolate ganache cake and mocha liqueur, Der was nearly in tears he was so overwhelmed with delight. Relaxed and full and ready for whatever Vincent had planned next, for surely he had, he sat back with a happy sigh.

“My loves, it is time,” Vincent finally said from the head of the table. “Drew has been so patient. Jonathan, if you would take Der into the bedroom and get him ready, please.”

He waited until Derelict had been led out by the hand and then beckoned to Drew. While he unfastened Drew’s pants, he explained, “My love, we’re going to spoil Der tonight in every possible way and I think, because of these last two weeks, we each need some time alone with him. But I want you to go first.”

When he’d unfastened Drew’s cage, he waited for the inevitable rush of relief to pass before he went on. “Der will be…helpless when you go in to him. Please understand, this is something he very much needs tonight.” Vincent leaned in to kiss the tip of Drew’s budding erection. “Be gentle with him.”

Drew chuckled at that and kissed Vince. He meant to give only a light brush of lips before going off, but he’d denied himself even kissing the last few days as it was just more torment. His lips melted against Vince’s, his tongue caressing between his lips to tease along his tongue in a sinuous languid dance. He brought his hand behind Vince’s head and kissed him breathless until he pulled a little moan from his chest.

He finally pulled back, passion and heat and just a hint of amusement behind the desire burning in his hazel eyes. He left Vince gazing after him with nearly the same expression as he left with a slow caress across his shoulders before making his way down the hall.

In the bedroom he found Jonathan just finishing up. He had tied Der face down on the bed, his limbs spread and secured to each of the bedposts. He was blindfolded as well and had a bolster tucked under his hips to present a tempting invitation.

Drew put his finger to his lips and Jonathan was only too happy to play along. He kissed Der’s shoulders and caressed a hand down his back. “Be right back, just need to grab some massage oil.”

He went to get it off the dresser and handed it to Drew with a wink and a soft kiss before silently making his departure.

Drew didn’t intend to keep the game up long, but he wanted to see how long it took Der to guess a switch had been made. With a little smile playing across his lips he undressed and moved up on the bed between Der’s spread legs. He poured a measure of the oil into his hands to warm and then leaned up over his long back to start at his shoulders and work his way down.

Der heaved a contented sigh. The tension had built up to the point where his back hurt and he’d ended up pacing instead of sleeping most nights.

He drew in another deep breath. “Oh, that feels so — you’re not Jonathan. You smell nice but not like Jonathan.” He chuckled. “It’s my sugar bear. Are we alone?”

Drew giggled and leaned down to kiss the back of Der’s neck. “How’d you guess so quick?” He asked, placing more soft kisses along each vertebra. “And yes, Jonathan went back out.”

“You, my dear, don’t smell like apricots,” Der said sagely. He sobered and his voice became a little plaintive. “Sugar bear…I’m sorry. About everything. I hope things weren’t too bad here.”

“Sh, Der, don’t be sorry.” Drew murmured, his hands working in slow circles down Der’s back. “Vince was mad, but we worked it out and it wasn’t too bad.” That was the first time he’d ever blatantly lied to Der, but he silenced the guilty voice by telling himself it would serve no purpose but to hurt Der to tell him how truly awful things had been. “I love you, Der. I’ve missed you so much.”

“I missed you, too,” Der whispered, the understatement of the decade. He held his breath, telling himself not to be stupid. Drew needed relief, not to have to comfort some big, blubbering idiot. No tears. Gods, hadn’t he cried enough for a hundred people the past two weeks? “Drew? Kiss me…please…”

Alright, so the best laid plans and all that… Drew sensed Der’s distress, and even though he was still so hard he was pointing straight up he was a little distressed as well. He could put Der back the way he was before he went out. Right now he needed his arms around him. With just a few tugs he freed Der’s wrists and ankles and took the blindfold off. “Don’t tell Jonathan, okay?” he whispered as Der sat up. He slid into his lap and wrapped his arms around Der’s neck.

They had both been afraid they’d lost the other. They needed this, they needed time to reconnect and reassure each other and it would make it all the sweeter when they did get around to making love.

“I won’t tell a soul,” Der whispered into his hair. He hugged Drew tight, the feel of that slender body in his arms a balm to his soul. “I love you…I love you…” He wanted to go on, to say he’d never do anything like that again but Drew didn’t need to hear that now.

He lifted Drew’s face, a huge lump in his chest as those beautiful hazel eyes rose to meet his. With soft, searching forays, he leaned in to kiss Drew’s lips tenderly.

Drew kissed him back just as tenderly at first. The kiss swiftly caught fire. Drew’s fingers tangled in Der’s hair and he moaned into his mouth. He shifted around in Der’s lap and slid his legs around Der’s waist, wrapping around him and pressing close.

Der reached for the oil and drizzled some over Drew’s shoulders, letting the little rivulets slide down his back before kneading carefully with his taloned fingers. He had gone from hurting to heated desperation in the space of thirty seconds, his mouth devouring Drew’s as if he might die without his lips.

No claw sheaths, Jonathan had taken his clothes. He took one of Drew’s hands and slicked the fingers with oil, then urged it between Drew’s legs to his back door.

Drew eagerly circled around his rim with one slick finger while he kissed Der, his tongue undulating against Der’s, the little stud probing the roof of his mouth. His body sang, blood pumping fast already. He slid his finger inside and moaned into Der’s mouth. Within moments he’d added a second finger, and then a third, wanting more and wanting it now.

His fingers slid in and out in rhythmic motion while his other hand stroked in light caresses up and down Der’s shaft.

“Sugar bear…my sweet love…” Der whispered against his skin, lips traveling down Drew’s jaw to his throat. He urged Drew up onto his knees and wrapped his fingers around his wrist to halt the eager invasion of Drew’s backdoor.

“Look at me, hon,” he requested as he angled his aching cock to the puckered ring so precipitously readied for him. His free hand stroked Drew’s hair while he eased inside, his eyes devouring Drew’s heated expression, the way his full lips parted when he breached him. “So gorgeous. Don’t rush, sugar bear. Please.”

Drew didn’t know if he could slow down. So, he stopped. He held perfectly still with just the first inch of Der’s cock inside him. He brushed his lips slowly back and forth across Der’s lips, whisper soft, hardly touching him. His hands floated over Der’s shoulders and arms, soft as butterfly kisses. He waited until he felt he had enough control back and then slowly began to flex his thighs, taking Der a little at a time, inch by slow inch until he had him down to the root.

All the while he lavished kisses across his mouth and face and the line of his jaw to his ear and down his throat. “I love you, Der… so much,” he whispered across his skin.

Der had held still under this tender assault, only tipping his head back to let Drew reach his throat. Now he moved, gentle rolls of his hips, up into that tight embrace. It was more than sexual delight, it was the warm glow of a welcome home.

“I must’ve been a saint in my last life,” Der whispered as he held Drew close. “I certainly haven’t been good enough in this one to deserve you.”

That wasn’t true at all, Drew thought. Der had come to his rescue more than once, but of course that wasn’t why he loved him. He started to think about Saint Derelict. Patron saint of lost souls and kitty cats, whose icons are a pierced phallus and an airbrushed cat carrier. He started to giggle. Yeah, that was why he loved Der.

Drew wrapped his arms around his neck and buried his face there. Der plunged into him in several short hard thrusts that hit his hot spot perfectly. “Oh…ohhhh….ohhh, god, Der…”

Two weeks of denial and need caught up to him in a hot rush. Der’s arms around him…his lips at his throat… that magnificent cock moving in and out of him. Drew leaned back, changing the angle of his body to Der’s, letting him get even deeper. His cock was so hard it nearly hurt and was wet and shiny with the copious amounts of precum leaking steadily from his slit.

“Sugar bear,” Der got out in a tight whisper. “Don’t make yourself wait another second. Let me feel you come.”

As Drew let go with those lovely, sexy little sounds and the first tight spasm clamped around him, Der’s eyes rolled and he came in a sudden, breathtaking rush.

Drew shuddered in Der’s arms, another pearly rope jetting from the end of his cock as Der’s heat flooded him, and another, and another… and oh it felt so damn good as they came together.

Der put his head on his shoulder and Drew laid his cheek on top of Der’s head, both holding each other tight as they waited for racing hearts and heaving breath to slow. They held each other like that for quite some time before finally separating with more kisses and I-love-you’s.

Drew got them cleaned up and then put Der back the way he had found him, tied to the bed posts and blindfolded. He kissed his cheeks and his lips and smoothed his hand over his hair and left him with a bemused smile.

Drew’s own expression was happily sated as he curled next to Vince on the couch.

“My turn?” Jonathan lifted his head from Vincent’s shoulder on the other side.

“Yes, beloved, go and see him,” Vincent told him with a little pat to his butt. He chuckled as Jonathan nearly skipped down the hall to the bedroom and then he turned to kiss Drew. “Are you feeling more yourself, my love?”

Drew returned the kiss with a longer brush of his lips, “Oh yes,” he said, nuzzling beneath Vince’s ear. “I feel much better.”

“Good.” Vincent pulled Drew into his lap and rested his head on that slender shoulder. Despite heated kisses from several interested parties, he wasn’t at all sure he was up to actual lovemaking that evening. Wrung out and drained, the last few months had left him with few reserves.

Drew picked up on his mood easily enough and shifted around on the couch. “Lay down with me Vince.” He coaxed gently, and when he did Drew took him in his arms and held him tight. It was usually Vince that held him like this, but Drew was more than happy to coddle him a little for a change.

Sounds that could only be described as giggles drifted out from the bedroom and Vincent smiled against Drew’s shoulder. “Now there’s a sound I’ve sorely missed,” he murmured. “Drew, love…you do understand…well, how could you? It wasn’t that I blamed Derelict for what you did. It was more a matter of history and promises broken and the need to truly think through things I had simply let happen.”

“You punished him because he should have made me go and ask you instead of giving in to his own desires. I understand that, Vince, but it was still my fault.” Drew said, matter of fact. “I’m the one that hurt everyone.”

“And you wrap your guilt around you like a battle flag,” Vincent said softly. “The part that was your fault was your fault, for which you were punished. The part that was his fault was his, not yours. And the part that was mine, was mine.”

Drew blinked. “But you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Oh, my love…” Vincent trailed off on a choked breath. “Perhaps not in that instant, that spot of time. But I have made terrible mistakes. For which we have all paid dearly.”

A knot of anxiety formed in Drew’s stomach. He did not like the sad tone of Vince’s voice or that he felt bad or most especially that he thought he’d made mistakes. “No, you didn’t, Vince. What are you talking about?”

“Who was it then, who ignored all the warning signs and ended up in the hospital so that you were vulnerable and hurting and turned to Xavier? And then was unable to assist in any constructive way when Jonathan was kidnapped? Who was it but me who misunderstood what you needed and nearly shoved you at Orion? And then again misjudged watching you with Lola so that I gave permission where Suzy was concerned? Der saw she was dangerous from her first words to him — why couldn’t I?”

Vincent squeezed his eyes shut. “Please forgive me, my kestrel. I don’t mean to burden you. But I promised to protect you, to guide you. And in my arrogance I have made a muddle of it all.”

Drew stroked his fingers gently through Vince’s hair and kissed the tip of his nose. “And you accuse me of wrapping my guilt around me?” Drew gave him a little smile. “So, you purposely did those things just so you could hurt me, right? You thought long and hard about consequences and which choice to make, and then chose the ones you knew would create all kinds of damage, is that it?”

Vince just gave him a look, he opened his mouth to speak but Drew beat him to it. “Will you admit then, that you did the best you could, with the information you had?”

“No,” Vincent answered, tight-jawed and stubborn.

A long, deep groan drifted from the bedroom, followed by a series of sharp, gasping cries.

Something in those dark eyes shifted at the sounds of passion and Vincent buried his head against Drew’s chest. “Perhaps.”

Drew stroked Vince’s hair and kissed the top of his head murmuring sweetness and reassurance while he held him tight.

A few minutes later Jonathan sauntered out of the bedroom with a Cheshire grin. “All right, babes, he’s all yours. Beaten to his knees and all sweetness and obedience.”

Vincent sat up slowly, with a kiss for Drew and a snort for Jonathan. “You did no such thing.”

“Course not. But I did leave his head spinning so he’ll be nice and un-ornery.”

“Honestly, beloved, must you make up words when you can’t find one?”

Jonathan’s grin remained unrepentant. “De-ornerized?” He slid next to Drew as Vincent rose. “I’ll keep your spot warm.”

Jonathan and Drew both watched as Vince made his way down the hall toward the bedroom. When he was out of sight Drew turned to Jonathan with a little smile and he snuggled close. “I missed you,” he said, knowing Jonathan would know what he meant. They had seen each other every day, but had both kept their distance and Drew had been sleeping alone. He nuzzled his nose under Jonathan’s ear and brushed his lips along the base of his jaw.

“Mmm, sweetie, you just don’t know,” Jonathan said with a gusty sigh. He wrapped his arms tight around and rolled so Drew ended up on top. “I’ve wanted to do this and so, so many other wicked, terrible things for so long. And I’ve been such a good boy.”

He met Drew’s lips with a tender, searching kiss. “I think I deserve a reward.”

Drew ground his pelvis against him and kissed him with hungry fire. Every stroke of Jonathan’s hands over his body made him shiver with anticipation and longing. The needy little moan he gave against Jonathan’s lips suddenly ended on a dismayed groan. “We didn’t ask Vince if it was okay.”

“You must be–” Jonathan cut himself off. He’d been about to say they didn’t need permission, they had implicit permission to be with each other whenever they pleased unless one of them was being punished. But Vincent had been so down, so off these past few weeks. “So, go ask him.”

Drew grabbed another heated, quick kiss and scrambled up and over Jonathan across the couch and down the hall. He quietly poked his head into the bedroom and saw Vince hadn’t even made it to the bed yet, thankfully. “Vince…” he called. “Is it okay if… um, Jonathan and I, uh…”

With a slow turn, Vincent blinked at him, obviously startled by the interruption. Der’s gorgeous body, spread out, bound and glistening with a light sheen of sweat, had monopolized his attention.

He turned back, finished his walk to the bed and sat down before he spoke. “He’s ready that quickly? Goodness…” He stroked Der’s back. Jonathan had obviously cleaned him up before he left him. “So why isn’t my Coyote doing the asking?”

Drew blinked, “I…well, I-I thought I should ask.”

“You mean you mentioned it and he sent you.” Vincent let his hand wander lower to caress Derelict’s lovely, muscular butt. “Which makes me wonder what’s happening in that labyrinthine brain of his.”

He curled over to plant a kiss on Der’s thigh. “What do you think, dearheart?”

Der moaned and shifted in his bonds. “I think you’re making me crazy. Gods…I love your hands.”

A hint of amusement glinted in Vincent’s eyes when he turned back to Drew. “My love, tell our Jonathan that he may have you. But he needs to crawl in here and beg you for it.”

Drew’s mouth hung open for a second. “But…”

Vince’s raised brow stopped him and he closed his mouth. Confused, he turned and walked back out to the living room considerably slower than he’d run to the bedroom.

Jonathan looked at him expectantly and Drew licked his lips. “He said it was okay, but you have to come back into the bedroom with me and beg first,” he said, feeling awkward.

“Did he?” Jonathan’s smile softened. He pulled his shirt off over his head and left it neatly folded. “Goody. Our Prince of Night wants to play. What did he say exactly?”

Drew told him, word for word, and Jonathan slid off the couch onto his hands and knees to crawl down the hall beside Drew. When they reached the bedroom, they saw Vincent had been busy. He had stripped and maneuvered himself to lean against the headboard, his legs slid under Der’s bound arms, Der’s head in his lap.

A second look revealed the end of a vibrator protruding from Der’s backside, a red, phallus-shaped one they both recognized. Vincent held the remote for it in his left hand though it lay quiet inside Der for the moment. Der nuzzled blindly at Vincent’s growing erection with little whimpers of need.

“Beloved, you know better,” Vincent said. “All of it comes off.”

Without rising from the floor, Jonathan wriggled out of his pants and briefs and then knelt in front of Drew in nothing but his collar.

Drew glanced uncertainly at Vince and back to Jonathan. He cupped his face gently, curling his long fingers under Jonathan’s chin. He was still a little anxious but Jonathan was smiling and Drew echoed it with a faint smile of his own. “What do you want, Jonathan?” he asked in a softly suggestive tone.

“Drew,” Jonathan said in a soft murmur. “Gorgeous, sweet, knock-me-off-my-feet sexy Drew, please take me. Take me long and slow and somewhere Vince can watch. Please? Pretty please?” He batted long, dark lashes at Drew.

The little smile didn’t leave Drew’s lips. Though he didn’t actually answer he slowly took his clothes off and nudged Jonathan to turn toward the bed, still on his knees.

Drew dropped down behind him, curving the line of his body to Jonathan’s backside. He lifted Jonathan’s arms, running his hands up the undersides in a caress and bringing them back so they were looped around his own neck. Then he slid his knees between Jonathan’s thighs and very slowly and deliberately spread him wide while he nuzzled and licked at the crook of his throat.

He glanced at Vince as he slid his hands down the front of Jonathan’s body.

The look Vincent returned was full of tender heat. His eyes never left Drew as he shushed Der with his hands and coaxed his member into Der’s waiting mouth. His eyes slid half shut with the rush of pleasure as Der devoured him. A little moan from Jonathan brought a sharp intake of breath.

“My kestrel,” he whispered. “So lovely.”

Drew let his hands glide over Jonathan’s torso, up and down his ribcage, fingers brushing lightly over his nipples, over the smooth washboard of his abs, circling and teasing his fingers along his skin all the while murmuring sweetly into his ear. He finally dipped a little lower, his hand drifting between Jonathan’s legs, one delicately cupping his balls and the other caressing his cock.

Jonathan dutifully stayed as Drew had posed him while he took his time kissing, nibbling and caressing him.

Vince had left the little bottle of lubricant on the edge of the bed and it was easy enough for Drew to reach over and grab it. He leaned back enough so he could caress his graceful slippery fingers between Jonathan’s cheeks and he took his time teasing and caressing him here as well. He pressed his lips to Jonathan’s ear. “Tell me again…” Drew whispered. “Tell me how much you want, and how…”

“Oh…sweetheart,” Jonathan got out on a breathy moan, his cocky impudence melting with his rising desire. He fought to stay still, every muscles tightening. “I want your cock inside me…deep inside me…I want to feel like you can’t get any closer…oh…god…”

He stopped and panted as one slender finger penetrated. “I want you to take me slow, make me feel every inch of you, every beautiful bit.”

Drew felt the heat of those words shimmer over him and lost some of his concentration. He licked the outer curve of Jonathan’s ear and sucked his earlobe between his lips as his fingers worked in and out of him. He teased and played and drew it out as long as he could stand it before he slicked lube over his aching erection and angled it at Jonathan’s entrance.

He held at his tight ring for long moments more, his hands stroking over Jonathan’s body until he was quivering and moaning unrestrained. Only then did he push slowly inside him with a smooth stroke. “God… so hot… so tight, my beautiful Jonathan.” He panted along his neck and shoulders, peppering him with kisses.

Instead of leaning him forward, Drew leaned back, Jonathan’s body resting against his in a long lean line that displayed him beautifully for Vincent. “Ride me, sweetheart…ohhh, pretty please.” Drew pleaded with a soft groan of pleasure

“Yes, oh, yes,” Jonathan whispered. Arms still behind his neck, body held at an odd angle, another man might have had trouble with the request. Jonathan’s well-trained body responded without hesitation, thigh muscles bunched as he rose up slowly along Drew’s shaft and eased back down. A shuddering groan of pleasure breathed from him.

Der answered it with a soft moan and a series of mumbles around Vincent’s cock. With gentle hands, Vince lifted his head. “What was that, love?”

“It’s not fair. I can’t see.”

“You couldn’t see them at any rate. You’re faced the wrong way.”

“Please, please, just a peek,” Der begged at his most pitiful.

Vincent removed his blindfold and let Der turn his head so he could take in the lovely scene at the end of the bed. “Good gods,” Der whispered as he turned back to lick Vincent. “That’s not an image I’ll forget soon.”

His lips wrapped back around Vincent, Jonathan picked up his pace, and the soft moans were suddenly joined by the soft buzz of the vibrator inside Der. He cried out and whimpered, his whole body squirming in his bonds.

“Uhhhh… oh, Jonathan… yes, oh yes, that feels so good.” Drew panted, his hips arrowing up to meet his down strokes. He reached around and wrapped his hand around Jonathan’s turgid shaft, stroking him with slick fingers. When he heard the pitch of Jonathan’s moans change slightly he moved, bending forward until Jonathan was on all fours.

Drew knelt behind him, grasping his hips while he picked up a steady rhythm. “Spread your legs more…” he requested in a husky whisper and Jonathan did. Drew curled over his back, wrapping his arms around him and picking up his pace. “Mmm…. God, that’s so good. Does that feel good, love? I wanna make you come so hard…” he murmured, kissing and nuzzling the back of Jonathan’s neck.

“Yesohgodohfuckohyes,” Jonathan got out in a breathless rush. “It feels incredible. Sweetheart…I’ve missed you so damn much…damn…oh…tell me…tell me I can…someone…”

The sounds from Der had become pitiful in their desperation. Vincent stroked his hair, his own voice breathy and strained. “My handsome Derelict may come–” The announcement was followed by a sharp cry of pleasure and Der’s hips bucking hard against his pillow. “But as for Jonathan,” Vincent went on, his head falling back as his own orgasm took him. “Drew, he is yours to command.”

Drew’s soft mewls of heated pleasure huffed across Jonathan’s ear. His hips thrust in a quick hard rhythm and his hand pumped up and down on Jonathan’s hard cock. He felt his sac draw up, that dipping tightening feeling in his belly that said he was on the verge of an uncontrollable orgasm. “Go… come…” It was all he could manage to say before a keening moan tore from his throat and he thrust deep as he the spasms of release took him.

Jonathan heaved back against Drew’s sudden pounding, fists clenched in the sheets. “My sweet, sweet Drew,” he whispered before he cried out as his climax rocketed through him.

Drew shuddered and sank down with Jonathan, eyes closed and panting hard as they both recovered. He felt boneless and weightless, happily exhausted. Though, if Vince crooked his finger he just might be coaxed again, he thought with a sleepy little smile.

When he could, he pushed himself up and off of Jonathan, slipping wetly from his body. He rolled to his back and lay sprawled, eyes still closed and a dreamy smile on his face.

“My loves,” Vincent’s voice drifted to them soft and hesitant. “Would you mind terribly if I slept with Der tonight?”

Jonathan rolled off the bed and undid Der’s ropes before he leaned in to give Vince a kiss. “Yep, completely offended. Never, ever forgive you.” He stroked Vince’s hair, foreheads leaned together. “You need some time with him, babes. We understand.”

He gathered Drew up in his arms and brought him to the head of the bed. “Kiss Vince goodnight, hot stuff.” When Drew had planted a sleepy kiss as instructed, Jonathan carried him off to bed.

They snuggled, Jonathan trying not to worry. If things were truly settled between them, wonderful, but he wasn’t going to be able to sleep if he heard them arguing. A sound reached him from the other bedroom after a few minutes but not the sound of strife.

“Then someone sat me down last night and I heard Caruso sing… He’s almost as good as Presley and if I only do one thing…”

Derelict was singing to their handsome Prince. Jonathan smiled, remembering why he loved the big goofball so much.

“Must you go home?” Elric asked with a little frown. “I do wish you would reconsider moving here. It would be so nice to have you close, Frau Schiller.”

Elisabet put her tea cup down with a little smile. They always spoke in German together. Perhaps it was rude since none of the handsome boys who flitted in and out of the library understood more than a few words but it was difficult not to fall into the comfortable accents and familiar phrases.

“Some day, I think, your highness. But I think for now my Derek needs his own life without his mother’s interference. It is something of a wild life and I do wish he would settle down with someone nice but still, it is his life.”

He nodded, shifting his gaze to the bookshelves.

“You seem so sad today,” she went on gently. “It cannot simply be that you are homesick and need someone with whom to speak German.”

He managed a little smile and leaned his head on his hand. “You are right, of course. Though the German does make me feel better. No, I have a rift among my friends and I hesitate to intervene.”

“So, tell me. You cannot leave it there once begun.”

Briefly, efficiently, he told her about Sasha and Jerrett and about how their stormy beginning and current relationship affected Keit and, more directly, Anthony.

“Ach, boys,” she said on a snort. “They always make things so complicated. I think that you cannot hope this will simply fly away, all of this. You have one torn between his old world and his new, one uncomfortable and worried, and one completely heartbroken. There are probably other things you need to discuss with this man, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Then go, discuss, negotiate. What stops you?”

“The thought that I might make things worse,” he said on a dry chuckle then waved a hand. “No, no, you are right. I will not delay any longer.”

He took her hands at the door and kissed her cheeks in farewell with the promise that he would write. They had corresponded since their first meeting a few years before, actual, handwritten letters on stationery, his austere and formal, hers with little flowers and birds on the margins.

“Watch over my Derek,” she said softly.

“Always, Elisabet, always,” he answered, his smile warm for her and then a bit wistful as he watched her drive away.

He stood a moment more, gazing out the window, hands clasped behind his back, then he turned and reached for the phone on the hall table.

“Herr Jerrett…yes…I’m glad I find you home. I hoped you might allow me to call on you some evening this veek. Et your convenience, of course.”

Jerrett invited the Prince to come over the following evening.

Sasha fluttered about, fussing with hors d’oeuvres and wine and making sure everything was just so. Jerrett debated telling him to sit down, but he figured if he didn’t let him fuss he would sit there and fidget, or worse. He let him go and wandered off so he didn’t have to watch all that nervous energy.

Elric rang the bell since Orion had his hands full. Keit had been left at home with a gentle explanation. There was no need to complicate things.

The door opened a scant thirty seconds later to Sasha’s nervous smile, and the rest of Sasha, impeccably dressed and pressed.

“Süsselein.” Elric stepped in to give him a peck on the cheek. “You look lovely. Is the lord of the manor about?”

Of course he was, stepping into the hall as Sasha took the Prince’s hat and gloves. The sun had been setting as they left the house, no need to tempt fate. Orion came in behind him with a wooden cabinet which looked heavy enough to require three men to carry. He merely stood with it clutched between his hands, patiently awaiting instructions and showing no strain at all.

Jerrett gave the cabinet an enquiring look and gestured for Elric and Orion to come in further while Sasha got the door behind them. “Not only am I graced with your presence but you bring gifts as well?” Jerrett asked. It was exactly those types of statements, in that tone, that made people say he was arrogant, condescending, sarcastic. Sasha had been learning a lot of it was really a dry sense of humor, one most people did not appreciate.

“Come in, please. You can set that down over there if you’d like, Orion,” Jerrett offered.

Once that task had been accomplished, their guests seated and suitably fussed over by Sasha while Jerrett looked on amused, he asked, “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company this evening?”

“Several things,” Elric began as he settled back in his chair, wine glass in one hand, the other stroking Orion’s hair where he knelt at his side. He gestured with his glass to the cabinet. “The first, vhile I vould like to take credit for being such a generous guest, I am merely bringing to Sasha vhat is his. The confinement cabinet vas a gift to him two years ago. Ve hef simply kept it in my house because it did the most good there. It is pedded inside and there are screens hidden in the carving on the short sides. Clever little screens. They keep the light out but let air in and allow you to hear if something is not right. I hef put Sasha’s straitjecket inside for him as vell.”

He smiled at Jerrett. “It occurred to me thet it might be more appropriate to keep it here now.”

“Well, I suppose that will work better than the closet,” Jerrett said, almost under his breath. He didn’t like the idea of putting Sasha in that box, even less than he’d wanted to put him in the closet. He understood it was what Sasha himself wanted, but Jerrett couldn’t help thinking of what it would be like for him. He would damn near fight to the death before someone put him in a box.

The smile faded and Elric put his wine glass down. “Herr Jerrett,” he said gently. “If you are not comfortable vith it, I vill take it beck vith me. Sasha’s anxiety attecks are serious, though, if they are prolonged. In a medical sense.”

“I can take care of what’s mine.” Jerrett did not snap, but it was close.

Elric sighed and rubbed a hand over the side of his face, a headache starting. “I do not suggest otherwise. I hef only come to clear things betveen us so there are no misunderstendings, not to dictate or to lecture. If you vould like to keep the cabinet, good, if not, I take it beck vith me. As simple as thet.”

Jerrett made a small gesture with his hand. “No, leave it. That does remind me of something I wanted to talk to you about, though. If Sasha does something that merits punishment, I prefer to handle it myself.”

“This could create…difficulties in consistent handling of discipline vithin my house,” Elric answered softly.

Jerretts lips curled in a not-altogether-friendly smile. “I do understand the need to keep order in your household, but I won’t compromise on this. Let me put it this way, if Keit did something to warrant it, would you let me mete out his punishment?”

The question and the manner in which it was put raised Elric’s hackles. He was inwardly amused at himself, that he imagined he could feel the rush of testosterone at the mention of such things. “I did not say no, Herr Jerrett,” he answered softly rather than allow any irritation to show. “I only suggest it could cause issues.”

He shifted his gaze to the far wall. “Caroline does not belong to me, either. Though I hef never discussed punishment vith her Domina.” He tapped a finger on the arm of the chair, thinking. Then he gave Jerrett a wry smile. “Vould you like a phone call or vould you prefer I send a note home vith Sasha if he hes misbehaved?”

Now Jerrett’s lips twitched in amusement and some of the tension drained off. “I’ll leave it up to your discretion, whether the matter needs to be resolved immediately or can wait until he arrives home.” His eyes shifted to where Sasha perched on the edge of his seat. “But you’ll do your best to behave at work, won’t you, sweetheart?”

“Yes, sir,” Sasha answered earnestly.

“Sasha is a good boy,” Elric said with a little chuckle. “Especially vhen he is kept busy.” He returned his gaze to Jerrett. “If I might suggest the rest of our discussion take place in private? There are perheps issues ve should discuss entre nous.”

Jerrett inclined his head graciously and rose to lead the way to his private study, leaving Sasha to keep Orion company.

The room had a more lived-in feeling than much of the rest of the house, a dark wood and leather den. Elric settled in the comfortable wing chair offered him and leaned back. “Since you hef brought him up, Keit vas vone of the items I vished to discuss vith you.”

Not exactly what Jerrett wanted to hear, but not entirely unexpected either. Jerrett sighed as he settled into the chair next to Elric. “I hope he’s gotten over his little fit of jealousy.”

“Hmm, it vas not jealousy, precisely, though his ections vere terribly inappropriate.” Elric tented his fingers in front of him. “He hes alvays been your chempion, your staunchest supporter, and thet hes changed. He is so angry, perheps seeing patterns familiar to him. It concerns me. I vould like there to be peace betveen you, if it is possible.”

“I can talk to him, Elric, but I can’t promise anything,” Jerrett said seriously. “Keit went too far with his meddling…but I suppose I shouldn’t have taunted him.”

“Please understend, his, ah, meddling vas out of concern for Sasha. There are many people who react to Sasha this vay. His…wounded vulnerability brings out such things, I suppose.”

“Asking me to stay away from him was one thing. Telling Sasha he should keep away from me was quite another. I didn’t appreciate that, and he still hasn’t apologized,” Jerrett said. “I said I would talk to Keit, but how that turns out will be largely up to him.”

Elric nodded. “So. Vone may only expect so much. I vill speak to him and hope for the best.” So much bristly indignation in this one, so much pride. It might make his next request more difficult, or perhaps less.

“My last reqvest is concerning a certain young man vith a predilection for sharp objects.”

Jerrett drummed his fingers once on the arm of the chair and then was still. If he really had been the panther Orion named him, his tail would have been swishing in irritation. If Elric thought he had been bristling before, he had been mistaken. Just the mention of Anthony and he looked ready for an explosion. This did not bode well.

“Yes?” Jerrett prompted softly.

Elric held up a hand. “Please, hear me out. You may find this…interesting. True, our Anthony is capable of the most spectecular overreactions I hef ever vitnessed. And he did so in volcanic and idiotic feshion thet night. Keep in mind, of course, thet he found Sasha sitting on his bathroom floor, blind drunk and covered in his own blood.”

He leaned forward, hands clasped between his knees, as close to a position of supplication as he would ever get. “Please keep in mind as vell thet he hes loved Sasha for a long time. And hes known all along he vould lose him to another man. So. He hes begged me to esk if you vould see him. To be completely cut off from Sasha…is a terrible thing for him. He esks me to relate thet he vould do anything to apologize to you. I do stress the anything clause in thet phrase, he made it qvite clear.”

Jerrett gave a short bark of laughter. “Anything, as long as he gets to see Sasha again, you mean.” He paused. There was a lot of opportunity to be vindictive here, but contrary to what was said about him, he was not often cruel on purpose. “I need to think about this before I agree to anything,” he finally said.

“Of course. I vould certainly say the same in your place.” Elric sat back again, more relaxed now. He regarded Jerrett a moment. “Sasha is very precious. I’m so pleased to finally see him heppy.”

“I think I said the same about Keit, not too long ago,” Jerrett said.

Elric laughed softly. “A fair trade then, Herr Jerrett. Shall ve go and see how our lovelies are getting on?”

They found Sasha sitting on the floor playing cat’s cradle with Orion, the tip of his tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth as he tried to take an odd pattern from him. The pattern collapsed to Sasha’s laughter and Orion’s smile. It was so good to see him… glowing. Sasha was glowing.

The visit lasted a bit longer both for the sake of politeness and because Elric actually enjoyed talking to Jerrett. When they finally rose to go and Sasha scampered off to fetch his things, Elric took his host’s hand. “A lovely evening. Thenk you. Call me, please, vith your decision regarding Anthony and if it is yes, let me know the terms. You are velcome to full use of my dungeon, if you need it. Or if you need him delivered on a silver plate, hogtied and gagged vith an epple, simply let me know. There are few things thet cannot be accomplished vith a little plenning.”

When they had gone Jerrett gathered Sasha in his arms and sat down on the couch with him. “Your friend Anthony wants to apologize,” he said. “Will it bother you if I don’t want you to see him?”

Sasha blinked. He’d been so busy settling in with Jerrett, he hadn’t had much time to think about what had been happening with Anthony. A guilty pang hit him and then the guilt turned anxious. Not see Anthony? Ever again?

“Oh…” Sasha stared at his hands. “I…I would be sad, sir. Not to see him. And it would be…hard not to. Sometimes. Since he’s at the Prince’s house twice a week at least. He’s…” He stopped and shook his head. Jerrett didn’t want to hear about how sweet and wonderful Anthony was.

He took a slow breath. “He is my friend, sir. And…and he’s been there through a lot. When I needed someone. And I’m…I’m sorry about what happened between you. It was my fault, that whole, stupid night.”

Jerrett waved that away as unimportant. He was quiet for a few minutes, thinking things through. There were many things to consider here. Jerrett didn’t like the idea of Sasha seeing Anthony, he didn’t trust the man.

True, in the end he had been mostly bluff and bluster, but that didn’t mean one day he might not follow through. He had gone after Jerrett for Sasha, but if he got impatient or jealous with him, would he go after Sasha to make a point? Jerrett was sure if he asked around he’d get a negative answer. Oh, no, Anthony would never do that. And that’s what people always said about their friends and neighbors before they were on the evening news for killing their ex-lovers.

So, there was that to consider, Next, Jerrett had a habit of chasing old lovers away. Keit had told him it was flattering at first, but after a while one started to lose respect for someone who was so insecure. The fight this caused between them was of legendary proportions and had been the first time Keit left him. He was not so pigheaded he couldn’t learn from his mistakes.

Those were very good reasons not to let Sasha see Anthony again, as far as Jerrett was concerned. However, this man was a good friend to Sasha, and Sasha would probably hurt a lot more than he let on if Jerrett forbid him to see him again. He would also be setting up potential issues, pretty much guaranteeing Sasha would eventually have to break this rule.

Jerrett sighed. “I need to talk to him first, before you see him again.”

“Yes, sir,” Sasha answered softly, not daring to hope, not daring to seem pleased. He did kiss Jerrett’s cheek and snuggle closer. The issue was a thorny one for his handsome Dom, he could see that, and he resolved he wouldn’t push or plead however the final decision went.

They got cleaned up, dressed and went back out. As Drew sat with Der and Brandon talking he started to realize he might have made a mistake. It had been Der he was responding to, and Vince and Jonathan would have no problem with Drew disappearing with Der for a little romp in the sheets. But, it hadn’t only been Der. He should have asked first, and he was starting to feel guilty.

He waited, not wanting to get anyone upset while they had a house full of guests. As soon as everyone had gone though, he knew it was time to clear things up with Vince.

“Vince, can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Of course, my love. No need to ask.”

“I…I um, wanted to tell you that…earlier Der and I, uh, got a little passionate and… well, Brandon was there.”

Vincent stilled. He had been putting glasses on a tray, helping Jonathan clean up. Now his long fingers twitched and he dropped a glass onto the tray with a clatter. His voice was soft and cool when he spoke next. “I presume that by ‘there’ you do not mean to indicate he stood and watched. Or ambled in unawares.”

Drew had been worried, but now he felt a sinking dread in the pit of his stomach. The soft tone did not fool him. Vincent was angry. “No,” Drew answered, just as softly, but for entirely different reasons. “I’m sorry, Vince. I should have talked to you first.”

“Yes, you should have.” Vincent took up the crutch he’d leaned against the table. “For so many reasons. I find it truly difficult to comprehend…after everything we’ve been through recently…” He turned and moved off, shaking his head.

After a moment, his study door closed quietly.

Jonathan had come out of the kitchen. “What did you say to him, hon?”

Drew blinked back the sting in his eyes and tried to clear the lump in his throat. His own fault. He could have shown a little restraint. He felt like a total slut now, and worse he was terrified Vince wouldn’t forgive him. He swallowed hard. “I-I walked in on Der and Brandon earlier. Der… he just looked so good, and…” He spread his hands helplessly.

“Oh, boy.” Jonathan blew out a slow breath. “Schiller needs to be horsewhipped for getting you in trouble.” He patted the air with both hands, tamping down on the tendrils of jealousy that wanted to surface. This was so very much not the time. “No, no, I know. You’re a big boy and you should have thought it through yourself. Too late now.”

Jonathan thought for a moment, running his hands through his hair. “Look, sweetie. I think the thing he’d be most pissed about is that you didn’t ask him. I don’t think I need to tell you why. But don’t let him brood in there. I know it won’t be a fun talk but you let him stew over things, he’ll just get worse and all icy and withdrawn and shit. No one knows better than me, right?”

Jonathan’s reaction was better than Drew would have dared hoped, and at the same time made him feel even worse. He did not deserve to have so understanding a boyfriend. Before he went to plead with Vince he moved into Jonathan’s arms. “I’m sorry, Jonathan…” He had to know. “Are you mad at me?”

“Oh, honey, don’t ask me that right now,” Jonathan said as he rolled his eyes. But Drew looked at him with those big, pretty eyes and he couldn’t just wave him off. “Honestly? Yes. Some. Though if it was me and I’d walked in on the big goofball with that five-alarm hot fireman, I don’t know if I’d have done much better.”

He smoothed a hand over Drew’s curls. “And I hurt Vince once that way, too. So I don’t have a lot of room to talk, do I?”

Drew put his head to Jonathan’s shoulder for a moment, glad at least that he was talking to him and hadn’t shoved him away. Yes, Jonathan had hurt Vince, but he hadn’t gone quite as far, had he?

Drew lifted his head and kissed Jonathan’s cheek, murmuring apologies again. Then he picked up his courage and walked down the hall to Vince’s office. He knocked on the door and got no answer.

He bit his bottom lip. “Vince?” he called softly.

Still no answer. He was not willing to just barge in. He put his forehead against the door. “Vince… please…?”

Nothing. He had never thought having someone ignore him could be so painful. Not that he didn’t deserve it. He turned and let his back slide down the door until he sat with his knees pulled up to his chest and his arms wrapped around. He wouldn’t go in uninvited, but he would wait right there until Vince came out or let him in.

Jonathan came down the hall to check on things and threw up his hands with an exasperated sound. “No, no, you can’t let him do this…”

He took Drew by the arm, pulled him up and opened the door with a huff. Vincent hadn’t locked it, which meant that on some level he wanted someone to come talk to him.

Vincent sat with his chair turned, back to the door. “What is it, Jonathan?”

“Oh, no, you don’t, you don’t get to use the Prince of Darkness voice on me. You’re going to talk to Drew, or at least listen to Drew, and I’m not leaving until you two work this out.”

A pale hand waved languidly from behind the chair, permission, perhaps, or an indication that he didn’t care what they did.

Drew felt about two inches tall. He wished the floor would just open up and swallow him. How could he have hurt Vince like this? If there had been a way to do so he would have horsewhipped himself.

He moved when Jonathan poked him and went around to kneel at Vincent’s side. “Vince…I know ‘I’m sorry’ isn’t good enough. I’m so stupid! I-I should have tried harder, not gotten so…carried away. I’m sorry I hurt you, more sorry than I know how to say.”

Vincent stared unmoving into some far distant landscape. When he finally spoke his voice was barely above a whisper. “What more can I possibly do? What is it that I’ve missed, somehow? That you are unable to think through your impulses? Do I ask too much? Is there something you need to tell me?”

The soft words might as well have been knives. They cut to the bone. Drew had never been more ashamed of himself. He had let people use and abuse him in the most degrading ways imaginable and he hadn’t felt as disgusted with himself as he did right then. What was wrong with him that he couldn’t follow the simplest of rules?

Vince meant the world to him, the things he did for him were beyond amazing. He treated him better than anyone else ever had, and this was how he repaid him. He thought he might die of mortification on the spot. He did not deserve Vince. Did not deserve Jonathan. Didn’t deserve this life.

Vince was waiting for him to say something and nothing would come. All that ran around in his head were ‘I’m sorry, I love you’ and neither were good enough.

“I’ve always understood that it might be difficult for you sometimes,” Vincent went on. He still hadn’t moved but something in his tone had changed, subterranean ice cracking. “I know I can’t…do the things a whole man could do. So when you have asked, I’ve always said yes. Has it become too much? Living with a scarred, mutant cripple? Do you… do you need something else?”

Clarity finally hit Drew like a bucket of ice water dumped over his head. He had never once considered Vince might feel this way. “God, I am so fucking stupid!” he said before he even realized he was speaking aloud. “Vince…” He stopped himself and shook his head. Saying that he didn’t think of Vince as ‘crippled’ and didn’t even see his scars would just sound like he was being placating when in fact it couldn’t be any more true.

“Vince, you know how someone who has anorexia looks in the mirror and see’s themselves as huge, when really they’re skin and bone? I know this is going to sound stupid and not make any sense, but I know why they do it, I do the same thing. Only, it’s when I look at anyone.

“When I look at you I don’t see with just my eyes… You are strength and beauty, and that’s all I ever see when I look at you. I don’t ever need anyone else but you and Jonathan. I love everything we do together, I have never once not been completely happy and way more than just satisfied in bed with you. I went in with Der because I love him… not because I’m not satisfied.

“Please Vince… I am…just pathetic, and I don’t deserve you, but please please don’t ever think you are any less to me.”

Vincent blinked and finally turned his head to look at Drew. Then he did something Jonathan had never seen him do while he was in Ice Prince mode. He buried his face in his hands and started to cry.

“Christ,” Jonathan muttered, shocked and heartsick. He slid onto the arm of Vince’s chair to hold him. “Babes…don’t do that…come on now. We’ve gotta try and put things back in place here. You‘re the rudder for this little boat, hon. Don‘t leave us spinning in the current.”

Vincent unbent far enough to hide his face against Jonathan’s chest. He quieted after a few hitching sobs and then began to speak again, slowly, as if unsure of himself. “Derelict is banned from our lives for the next month. No one lets him in. No one answers his calls. No one seeks him out. Jonathan, I’d like you to call him and tell him so. I don’t know if I can.”

“All right, babes, I can do that.” Jonathan said with a worried frown.

“Drew will be in chastity for two weeks, beginning tonight. At the end of two weeks, we’ll revisit and see if it’s enough. There will be no phone, no visiting, no wandering about. To school. Straight home. And Jonathan, you will refrain from tormenting him or you will join him. And I…need to sleep alone for a few nights. I need…some time.”

Drew crept forward on his hands and knees. He took Vince’s hand and pressed it to his cheek. Vince didn’t exactly snatch his hand back but he allowed the touch for only a moment before pulling away. Drew couldn’t have been more devastated if Vince had slapped him in the face. In fact that would have been better.

Drew made an anguished sound and burst into tears. He clutched at Vince’s leg. “Please don’t do this, Vince… Please! It’s not enough! Scream at me, beat me, lock me in Jonathan’s box… something….”

Vincent heaved an uneven breath. Upset, yes, angry, yes…but why was this so shattering, this bit of disobedience? He walked backwards in his mind, to other moments, talks and punishment and promises given…and that was it. No matter what he did…

“Drew, we’ve been here before,” he said, his tone puzzled and tired. “Regarding these issues of impulse control. Of thinking before doing. I have talked through it with you and punished you and even spanked you…and here we are again.”

Vincent drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair. “As a matter of fact, the only thing that truly seemed to make a lasting impression was when Jonathan was punished.” Oh, it sounded cruel and perhaps Jonathan would never forgive him for this…

“That’s it, then.” He stood even though Drew still clung to his leg. “Jonathan, you’re going in the box.”

“What?” Both Jonathan and Drew echoed the exclamation.

“If the only way to make a lesson stick for Drew is to force him to think about someone else, that’s what we must do.”

“Oh…damn…” All the color had drained from Jonathan’s face.

Drew shook. He hadn’t meant for this… His mind screamed no! no! no! but he watched silently as Jonathan went to the study closet and pulled out the little dolly with the confinement box on it.

Jonathan’s hands shook as he placed it on the floor and opened it. “Should I strip?”

“Only to where you’re comfortable, beloved.”

Drew was rooted to the spot where he huddled on the floor. He was horrified. Vince could have done anything to him… anything, and he would have accepted it as his due, but this… he knew how much Jonathan hated the confinement, how afraid he would be. “Vince… no,” he pleaded in a soft whisper, but neither paid him any attention.

Jonathan stripped down to his briefs in wooden, stiff movements. For Drew…for Drew…he could do this… He stole a kiss from Vincent, folded himself inside and took a deep breath as if he were submerging as Vincent closed the lid and locked it.

“If this is the only way to show you that your actions affect more than just yourself, so be it,” Vince said with finality.

Drew got it. He was in agony over it, but he got it. He curled forward and buried his face in his hands, sobbing his heart out, and where he had pleaded for a comforting touch a few moments before, now he would accept none. Not until Jonathan was let out.

Vincent knew he had to be careful. He felt as if his heart had been dropped from a great height, compressed and splintered, but he had to stay focused. The longest Jonathan had managed in the box had been an hour, early on in the relationship. It had been a harsh punishment but he had accepted a joint from someone at a party, not a small infraction. Vincent had let him out when he started screaming.

Five minutes passed, with Drew sobbing at his feet. Ten. Oh, he wanted to gather Drew up in his arms but he couldn’t, not now. Fifteen minutes and still Jonathan hung on, no sounds issuing from the box. Twenty minutes and there was a soft whimper. Twenty-five and the little sounds of distress came more frequently. At nearly thirty minutes, Jonathan let out a sobbing breath and called out, “Vince? Vincent!”

Vincent undid the latch and threw open the lid. Jonathan surged up and over the side to scuttle on hands and knees away from the box. Wild-eyed and shaking from head to toe, he wrapped his arms around his knees and rocked in a distressed, uneven rhythm.

Drew went to him and folded him in his arms, holding him tight. His own tears hadn’t stopped but he ignored them as he smoothed his hands down Jonathan’s back and kissed his temple. “I’m sorry, Jonathan, I’m so sorry.” He murmured over and over. “I’ll never ever do it again, I swear.”

“No air…there’s no air…” Jonathan looked at Drew but obviously didn’t see him. “So… dark…things…in the dark…”

“Jonathan!” Vincent said sharply.

His head snapped up.

“You’re safe, beloved. It’s done. We’re here with you.”

“Safe…” Jonathan echoed. He uncurled far enough to wrap his arms around Drew. “Please don’t make me sleep alone…please?”

Drew rocked him gently and shushed him, “You won’t sleep alone tonight, I promise,” he murmured. He looked up at Vince. “Let him sleep with you tonight, Vince, please? I’m begging you… he didn’t do anything wrong… he needs you.” Yes, he needed Vince, who would know what to do if he had a nightmare, who could calm him down when all Drew did was make things worse.

Drew pleaded with more than just his words, his eyes were haunted and there was something else in them. Something far worse than the pain and the guilt. Vince had done an excellent job of ensuring Drew learned this lesson, almost too good of a job, he’d almost gone too far. There were hints of fear in Drew’s eyes, and the distinct possibility that if he refused this request he wouldn’t have to worry about Jonathan forgiving him, Drew might not.

“Of course Jonathan may sleep with me,” Vincent answered softly. Gods. He wasn’t cruel. Not by choice.

Drew closed his eyes and sighed gratefully. He got Jonathan up and took him to the bedroom where he got him tucked in and kissed him good night. Then he got the chastity device from the bottom drawer and put it on himself, leaving the key on the dresser. He said goodnight to Vince. No kisses, no hugs. He didn’t deserve them. He slunk off to his room.

He looked at the bed and knew he couldn’t sleep on it. This punishment, as bad as it was, was only beginning. Der would be devastated. More people hurt because Drew was a stupid, fucking idiot. He could not curl up in the pillows and blankets they made love on. He curled up on the floor instead, and even though he wanted to get up a hundred times during the night to get the Ugly Bat to cuddle with, he made himself stay where he was.

The next morning, Vincent got up first. It had been a wretched night with Jonathan shaking in his arms after every wrenching return from nightmare, at least one an hour. He stopped at Drew’s door on his way to the kitchen. He’d had time to think about everything during the long night. The infraction was terrible, in light of Suzy and baby Angela and all that went with them. And what Drew had said afterwards had hurt, that he wasn’t looking for something different. No, it had simply been action without thought.

Despite all that, Vincent felt he had been harsh and cold. This was his beloved Drew, after all. He eased the door open, his heart skipping a beat when he saw the bed empty. But there Drew lay, curled into a fetal position on the floor, refusing bed and blankets, punishing himself.

Vincent sighed. All right, Drew had begged for punishment for himself. It was perhaps the only way for him to purge the guilt at this point.

“Drew,” Vincent called, loud enough to wake him. “Get up. We need to finish this.”

Drew had had every bit as horrible a night, if not more so. He had not really slept, fading in and out. He’d heard how terrible a night Jonathan had, and he berated himself every time he was awakened, knowing it was his fault, and not daring to go and comfort his love.

In his sleep deprived and confused state what he heard Vince say was they needed to finish it, as in he’d changed his mind, he was kicking Drew out. He scrabbled up and out after Vince, flinging himself down at his feet and wrapping his arms around his waist.

“Pleasepleaseplease no, Vince, please no, I can’t live without you! Please don’t make me leave!”

Vincent startled, overbalanced and sat down hard on the floor. “What? Sweet spirits…no.” He reached out to smooth the wild curls back from Drew’s eyes. “No, love. Come out to the living room. We have unfinished business. I should have done this for you last night but I wasn’t feeling well or thinking straight.”

He struggled back up, grateful, for once, for Drew’s help. Once in the living room, he placed a cushion at one end of the new coffee table. “Strip and bend over the end, here, please. I’ll be back in a moment.”

Drew was so relieved he would have happily walked over glass or any other thing he wanted just to hear him say he still wanted him. It did not exactly register yet what was about to happen, but he didn’t care. He stripped out of the pajama bottoms he’d been wearing, knelt and bent over the end table as Vince had instructed.

When Vincent returned, he had one of Drew’s belts in hand. Most of his own were too heavy and none of Jonathan’s were wide enough. He settled on the sofa where he would have a good angle and enough leverage.

“Now, my love, I don’t think we need to rehash what was done or who was hurt by your actions. I believe you have all that by now. But know that I do this because I love you. And because I want us all well and whole again.”

He ran his hand over Drew’s backside, landed the flat of his palm in a hard crack and then switched to the belt, which landed with a harder, sharper sound.

Drew put his head down and tried to breathe evenly. After a little while there was a rhythm to the fall of the belt across his skin, and awhile after that the sharp bite of the belt became oddly soothing. He wanted Vince to hit him harder but he was afraid to speak, afraid to ask for anything.

The pink blush of his cheeks became red, and then the red grew to a dark maroon and Drew held back every cry that wanted out.

Vincent was out of breath and sweating before a whimper finally forced its way between Drew’s clenched teeth. The next blow brought a cry to his lips and he involuntarily brought a hand back to try and protect his abused backside.

“All right, my love.” Vincent curled his fingers around that hand. “Enough. I can’t…” He put the belt down to rub at his chest. “I can’t manage any more.” He tugged until Drew transferred his head to Vincent’s lap. “You made a mistake. You’re taking your punishment. Stop punishing yourself as well.” He stroked Drew’s hair softly and whispered, “I love you so.”

Drew hugged Vince’s waist tight, the sobs he hadn’t allowed himself finally coming. Again and again he murmured how sorry he was and how much he loved Vince and how he didn’t deserve him, but was oh so grateful to have him and he would never never never hurt him like this again.

“It’s human nature to hurt each other, love,” Vincent murmured. “Though we can do our best to avoid the things we know will hurt.”

He looked up when Jonathan came down the hall, hollow-eyed and exhausted, phone dangling from his hand.

“You called him?”

Jonathan nodded.

“And he agrees to all of it?”

“Oh, yeah, not a problem,” Jonathan said with an airy wave. Then he sighed. “OK, maybe a minute or two of problem. He cried like a two-year-old. And I promised to tell you he’s sorry.”

Vincent nodded, a lump in his throat. “I think, my loves, that I want to go back to bed. I don’t…feel very well.”

Sprawled on his living room floor, Derelict didn’t feel too well, either. He stared up at the ceiling, wondering if he would ever stop being a moron. He’d gotten Drew in a boatload of trouble, upset Vince, and Jonathan from the sound of things, gotten himself banned from the company of those he loved and now…now he wasn’t even allowed to call Vince and talk it through.

Maybe this was the final straw. This would be the time Vincent wouldn’t be able to forgive him.

A knock on the door pulled him from his self recriminations. He got up to answer it and found Ethan and Quinn on his doorstep.

Ethan smiled, “Hey Der, we were in the neighborhood and dropped by to see…” He tapered off. “Sweetheart, are you okay?”

“You mean besides being a thoughtless monster? Oh, sure. Just grand.”

Ethan’s brows went up. He followed Der in when he turned away, Quinn still tucked under his arm. Der flopped down on the couch and held his head in his hands. Ethan sat across from him in the chair.

“You are hardly a thoughtless monster, Der. What happened?”

Der shook his head without lifting it. “Tell me that again after I’ve told you…” Which he did, about Brandon and Drew and how he had conveniently forgotten to ask and what had happened after.

Ethan sat with his hand resting lightly on Quinn’s thigh, listening. He sighed. “Der, this isn’t really your fault. It’s not like you held Drew down and forced him to stay. He knew he should have talked with Vincent first.”

“I know,” Der said miserably. “But Vincent trusts me with him, don’t you see? Trusts me to look out for him. And I didn’t.”

Ethan moved from his chair and went to sit next to Der, putting his arm around him and pulling him against his chest. “Der, you would never knowingly let harm come to that boy. Perhaps you got a little carried away, but if you’re guilty of anything it’s stepping on Vince’s toes. You knew Drew was safe with you, so you gave him permission to be there.”

He paused for a second, choosing his next words carefully. “Isn’t that just the sort of thing you two had trouble with when you were together? Who was going to be in charge of what? Give Vince a little time, sweetheart. He’s angry right now, but he has to know you didn’t mean any harm.”

Quinn slid up on the other side to snuggle close. “And it’s only a month, big guy. I mean, it’s not forever, right?”

“That’s just it,” Der whispered. “Maybe this time it is forever. Maybe I finally pushed Vince too far. I…was the problem when we were seeing each other. Vincent can’t play sub to anyone and me, I have problems with boundaries. Yes, he’s angry, because he invited me back into his life, let me share the joy and the love he found, and I screw it up. Especially after all they’ve been through and here he is, just wanting a bit of peace and security for awhile…why don’t I think sometimes? Why am I always so smart after the fact?”

“Der, he didn’t say ‘don’t ever come back’. If he meant it to be forever he wouldn’t have said a month, right? He might be upset with you, but he doesn’t hate you. Vincent is smart enough to know that it was Drew’s responsibility to get his permission, not yours.” Ethan stopped there, but the thought crossed his mind that if anyone should be upset at Der it was Drew. He doubted Drew would be mad, though.

“C’mon now, don’t keep beating yourself up. You know Drew wouldn’t want you to do that.”

For some reason, this made Der burst into tears. Quinn sighed and nestled closer to stroke his hair, then mouthed over his head, ‘good job’ to where he knew Ethan sat.

“Sh, sh, come on,” Quinn murmured as he nuzzled at Der’s throat. “Not like you’re all alone, big guy. Look, maybe in a couple days, Vince’ll feel better. And maybe I could talk to him for you. Not a ‘hey, Der wanted me to tell you’ kinda talk but a ‘hey, I saw him the other day and he’s really, really miserable without you’ thing.”

Ethan and Quinn stayed for quite a while longer, truth be told Ethan did not want to leave him alone. So much so that he was back the next day, and the next just to check on him. After a week he decided it was time for him and Quinn to visit Vince. Der was a miserable wreck and he couldn’t imagine things were all that happy over at Vince’s place either. He had some reservations about butting in, but something needed to be said.

He decided this time he would let Quinn do the talking first, though

Jonathan opened the door for them, subdued and much more quiet than usual. He led them into the living room where Vincent lay on the sofa with his laptop, encased in a fleece throw from the waist down. He looked fragile, his pale skin closer to gray than white.

Quinn made his way to where he heard Vincent’s voice and sat down by his feet.

“You’re looking good, hon,” Jonathan offered, since Vincent had returned to his work after cursory greetings. “Guess working with the puppies and kitties is working out, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s great,” Quinn smiled at his former employer. “I mean, it’s not for everybody, lots of messy stuff involved, but I like it.”

Jonathan managed a little chuckle at the gentle teasing. “It’s good to see you both. But I’m getting the feeling this isn’t just a social call, right?”

“Yeah, well…” Quinn rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, then reached out to pat Vincent’s foot. “Vince?”

“Hmm?”

“Look, I know it’s none of my business or anything but are you really gonna make Der stay away for a whole month?”

“You’re correct, it is not.” Vincent’s voice drifted to him, cool, quiet water. “And it is my intention.”

“Oh.” Quinn hung his head, fidgeting with Cricket’s harness.

He heard the little sigh he was waiting for and then waited a moment more until Vincent said, “Why do you ask?”

“’Cause I think he’s falling apart,” Quinn said to his feet. “I mean, he just seems to get worse every time we see him. He’s kinda mumbling to himself now and his apartment doesn’t smell so good and he just doesn’t, you know, hold up for long if you try and talk to him. Cries at hello. Can’t put two thoughts together.”

“He brought it on himself,” Vincent said, though there seemed to be some uncertainty in his voice.

Drew, who was sitting off to one side and had been silent up until now finally spoke. “No, Vince,” he said softly. “Der didn’t really do anything wrong. I know you’re mad at him, but you shouldn’t punish him for something I did.”

Vince did not respond and Drew lapsed back into silence. They had already had this conversation. They disagreed plain and simple. Drew hadn’t been able to change Vince’s mind and begging would only make things worse.

Ethan cleared his throat, this was ridiculous. All this misery for one indiscretion. “Drew, Jonathan, would you mind going for a little walk with Quinn please?”

That request froze everyone for half a second, and then there were a few murmurs of acquiescence and they all filed out to leave Vince and Ethan alone.

Ethan sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. “I’m not going to try and convince you that you’re being too harsh, although I think you are,” Ethan said with a resigned little half smile. “And I think Quinn’s already done a pretty good job appealing to you sense of pity.” He paused, gathering his thoughts. “Der’s convinced you won’t forgive him, he’s not taking this as a ‘punishment’ he’s acting like you’ve broken up with him, er… the three of you have. Actually he’s acting like you all died.” Ethan sighed, and waved a hand.

“What’s your intent here Vince? I have to know because every time I leave Der alone I worry about him, and he won’t come and stay with Quinn and me, although I’ve asked him to.”

“Derelict knows the terms of the arrangement. This isn’t the first time he’s disregarded them. Perhaps the last time I wasn’t harsh enough,” Vincent said a bit too softly.

Ethan propped his chin on his hand and looked at Vince speculatively. “How long have you known Der, Vince? I know I haven’t known him as long as you but even I know you’re not going to change him with this punishment. Oh, sure, you can pound this lesson home. I’m sure he’ll never get one of your boys involved with a stranger again. But eventually something will come along, some situation where he just doesn’t think through to the end of what might happen. And then what? Another banishment? How many times can you punish him for the same mistakes before he gives up and decides it‘s better for him to stay away?”

Ethan shook his head. “Please Vince, I’m not criticizing, I know I’d be furious if Der put Quinn in that situation. All I’m saying is don’t be so stubborn you do more harm than good. At least go and talk to him yourself. If you can’t work things out, then you can’t, but drawing this suffering out is just damn depressing.”

Vincent stared into some distant vision for a long moment, dark eyes chill and calm but far too still. “I do wish…” He stopped and shook his head. “Drew keeps telling me it wasn’t Derelict’s fault, that he didn‘t commit any offense. As if he were a child, not responsible for his actions. As if he and I had not discussed, in detail, what it would mean if he became part of our lives.”

He raised his head to look at Ethan, his eyes shadowed and tired. “Honestly? I haven’t decided yet if I’m able to take him back this time. I can’t talk to him until at least that much is clear. That wouldn’t be fair to him, either.”

Ethan lowered his voice, even though he knew they wouldn’t be overheard. “Forgive me, Vincent, but I think you should make up your mind a bit more quickly. You have everyone twisting on the end of a thread here. What happens a month from now if you decide Der isn’t welcome? Then you just tell him, sorry don’t come back? And in the meantime you have Drew and Jonathan both expecting Der will be welcomed back, that this is just a temporary punishment. What will you tell them? You’ve changed your mind and they’re not allowed to see him anymore?”

Ethan shook his head. “I won’t say any more about it. I didn’t come here to badger you, believe it or not. But I do hope you’ll think on it.”

“And what, pray tell, do you believe I have been thinking about?” Vincent got out in an anguished whisper. “Why I can’t sleep? Do you really, truly think I haven’t belabored all of that? Ad nauseum? Gods…” He dropped his head into his hands, perilously close to breaking down.

Ethan’s expression softened. He tended, as did most people who knew Vince he’d wager, to think of him as much older. He had a very put-together persona, he was intelligent, stable, successful and exuded calm strength that was rare in a younger man. But, he was only nineteen and shouldering some hefty burdens.

Ethan didn’t know how Vince might react to an overture of comfort, but at this point he didn’t much care. He moved over next to him and put his arm around his shoulders, drawing him in close.

“Please…don’t do that,” Vincent whispered but his body said otherwise as his hand clutched the front of Ethan’s shirt and he buried his face against that broad chest. The tears fell in near silence, though they still came, only the occasional strangled sound accompanying his hitching breaths.

For Ethan, he had no need to be strong. Ethan didn’t depend on him for anything. He couldn’t even do this with Victor, who did rely on him but in this strong, warm embrace, he could simply be a very young man who had swallowed too much pain too early in life.

Ethan knew enough to let him go, offering nothing beyond the shelter of his arms. Eventually Vince quieted though he made no effort to move away. When he spoke again, his voice was hollow and tired but steadier.

“I don’t know what it’s like anymore. To just be myself and not have anyone need me to make decisions for them. Since I was ten…my mother died, my father dove into crippling depression. He needed me. My little sisters needed me. I’ve always tried to think things through, to be certain a thing was the best course for everyone before I’ve acted. But lately…oh, merciful spirits…lately my decisions have taken us to dark and terrible places. To a fire that nearly killed my Jonathan and left Drew shattered. To a girl’s suicide and to Drew losing his baby. To Der nearly dying on the front lawn. Ethan…I’m so tired…”

Ethan stroked a hand gently over Vincent’s shoulders. He had worried that once the tears had stopped there would be that awkward feeling when you shared too much with someone you didn’t really know, but it didn’t feel awkward at all to simply hold Vince. “Hon, there’s a difference between being responsible and obsessing over your every move as if your life were a big game of chess. Life doesn’t show you all the pieces in play and moves to make, you can’t possibly see every single outcome.

“You do the best you can, Vince. Better than a lot of people. Your boys love you for that, among other things.”

He was quiet for a moment. He’d already said he was going to let the matter of Der drop, and he didn’t want to sound like he was badgering him, especially not now, but… “Vince…” He actually gave a soft chuckle. “I know I just told you to think, but I take it back. Don’t think. Don’t go down every avenue and possibility. Just answer one question, only the one, no thinking about it allowed… Do you really never want to see Derek again?”

“Of course it’s not what I want–” Vincent began but Ethan didn’t let him finish.

“Well, then the rest of it doesn’t matter much. You can’t see the rest, you don’t know how and who will be affected by what. If it’s a mistake, it’s a mistake… you are allowed to make them occasionally.”

Vincent heaved a sigh, his head still resting on Ethan’s chest. He did recognize that he made mistakes. The problem was that his tended to be rather disastrous. But this…this was Derelict, whom he had loved from the first time he’d set eyes on him, standing naked and pretending nonchalance on an art class platform.

“Phone. Please,” he requested softly and sat up when Ethan handed it to him.

Der’s phone rang three times and then a shaky voice answered, barely recognizable. “Vince?”

Vincent hesitated and then said, “I was dreaming, it was a hundred and ninety degrees…”

Silence greeted him, then a choking sound.

“Come on, Der,” Vincent coaxed. “Don’t disappoint me.”

“We were crawling around on our knees, ‘til the sun came up at quarter to three,” Der finished the stanza in a choked whisper.

“That’s my Der. You still have it.”

“Never lost it…Vince? Are you calling to tell me goodbye?”

Vincent frowned. “Dearheart, why in the world would you think I’d do something like that over the phone?”

“’Cause you’re mad as hell and you’re not gonna take it anymore?”

“No. That is, yes, I’m angry with you but no, I didn’t call to tell you goodbye.” Vincent twisted the blanket with his free hand. “I would say I’d come over to talk to you but I’m not feeling very well. I…Der, I love you. Don’t forget that.”

The sounds from Derelict’s end of the phone could only have been him in tears.

“And Drew’s punishment is only for two weeks. So I’ve decided it’s not quite fair to punish you longer. We’re at the end of the first week already. Do you think you can hold out one more?”

“All…all right…yes.”

“And you can call me if you need to. Not Drew yet, since it’s part of the penance and I don’t think it’s a good idea at the moment. But when it’s done, it’s done, and we’ll have you back. All right?”

“Vince…” Der couldn’t seem to catch himself. “I’m so, so damn…sorry…”

“I know, dearheart, I’ve heard. Please take a shower, take care of yourself. I’ll talk to you soon.”

They said their goodbyes and hung up. Vincent sank back against the sofa, exhausted but less empty.

Ethan smiled at him and patted his shoulder gently. “Feel better, don’t you?”

“Yes. Thank you.” Vincent gave him a wan, spare smile. “For the shoulder and the ear.”

The front door opened and Cricket poked his head in first, followed by Quinn. “Hey, is it OK for them to come back in their own house? I mean, it’s a nice day and everything but Drew’s no fun to walk with right now, he’s walking kinda…weird. And slow.”

“Yes, you guys can come back in. We’re done,” Ethan said.

“Come here, my kestrel,” Vincent requested softly when Drew made his reappearance. He waited until Drew had settled beside him, nestled in his arms. “I have some things to tell you but first you need to tell me something. Are you angry with Der at all?”

Drew blinked, “Why would I be mad at Der?”

“He tempted you when he should have been a friend and reminded you of your promises. He caused you quite a bit of grief.”

Drew’s eyes slid away from Vince to the floor. “I suppose…that’s one way to see it,” Drew said after a moment. He really did not want to have this conversation in front of Ethan and Quinn. Actually he didn’t want to have this conversation at all. He didn’t know where Vince was going with this but lately no conversation they had turned out happy. “I’m not mad at him, though.”

Vincent took him gently under the chin and waited until Drew looked at him again. “I simply wanted to be certain. If you were, we could have arranged something. However, since you aren’t, I don’t suppose you would mind too terribly when Der comes to dinner next Saturday to celebrate the end of your punishment.”

It actually took a second for it to sink in, what Vince was saying, and then Drew smiled, a pretty rare occurrence that last week. He was so relieved he didn’t know what to do except wrap his arms around Vince and bury his face at the side of his neck.

“Oh, dear,” Vincent said. “I don’t know if that’s a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’.”

Jonathan snickered, though he shot Ethan a ‘how the hell did you do that?’ look while Quinn wrapped his arms around Ethan and murmured, “You’re a good man, McFarland.”

For a few minutes, Vincent held his Drew simply because he could. The long, sleepless nights caught up to him like being hit by an armored car, though. He could barely hold his eyes open.

“You and Jonathan may begin planning dinner anytime you wish. Not that Jonathan enjoys that sort of thing,” he said on a yawn. Then he disentangled himself from Drew’s arms, pulled his legs back up onto the couch, lay down with his head in Drew’s lap and went to sleep.

Brandon pulled up in front of the condo wondering if he should really be there. A small get together was what Vincent had said, now that they had the condo repaired and they’d moved back home. He’d asked Brandon to come, and said he was grateful for the help and consideration he’d shown. Stuff like that usually made Brandon uncomfortable. He got a lot of that kind of gratitude in his job, and it always made him feel a little weird.

He would not ordinarily have gone, but this time he made an exception. He liked them, he felt so bad about what had happened to them. That was true, and he kept it firmly in mind, and tried to ignore the other part that said he was here because he wanted to see Drew again. Hoped to see him happy, for once. He sighed and headed up the walk.

Der had been looking out the window with Jonathan. “Hmm, he is gorgeous. In a baseball and apple pie kinda way. You want me to find out which way his pendulum swings? I could ask him…”

Jonathan swatted him. “Shut up. I just said he was cute, not that I wanted to jump his bones. Christ, Schiller.” He hustled off to the kitchen to see to incredibly necessary things.

“So much fun to embarrass,” Der murmured, watching Jonathan’s adorable little butt as he hurried away. He turned when the doorbell rang and greeted the fireman with a huge smile. “Well, hello, there. I remember you. You kept me from bleeding to death on the front lawn.”

Brandon smiled and took Der’s offered hand. “All in a day’s work.”

Der let him in and Brandon looked around. A small get-together, he supposed some people would consider it small. They must have a lot of friends, predominantly male, he noted.

Drew came up to them, smiling at Der. Was that the first time he’d seen him smile? Maybe for just a second when he’d come to tell them about Susan. Damn. The boy was friggin beautiful. He didn’t even catch what he said to Der, some bit of chatter and then he kissed his cheek and wandered off again.

Brandon tried not to be obvious about checking him out and he thought he did a pretty good job.

“Professional interest? Making sure everything’s still in the right places?” Der asked in a soft, teasing voice. He hadn’t missed a damn thing. He gave a little dismissive wave of his claws when Brandon’s ears turned pink and he looked about to protest. “Wsht, don’t fret. Half the people in this room will have whiplash from our Drew walking by before the night’s done. Common ailment, never fear.”

“I, uh, damn.” Brandon fumbled and cleared his throat. “Vince is a lucky guy.” Which was about the same as saying, ‘you caught me looking, but I wouldn’t make a move that way’.

Der’s smile turned a little sad. “Oh, what a lucky man…yes, he’s had a lot of both kinds of luck in the last couple years. Sort of hoping the bad luck part has run it’s course now.”

Brandon gave a little nod of agreement and they both glanced over to where Vince sat within a knot of friends. Jonathan came out of the kitchen and bent to give Vince a kiss and then flitter off again.

“How do they…um, I mean, I thought Drew and Vince… but then there’s Jonathan, and you know, the thing with Susan. Trying to figure out who’s with who has gotten confusing.”

Der chuckled and took a sip from his wineglass. “I’ll get you a program. Or maybe it’s a menu. One from column A, one from column B, two appetizers per customer, plate sharing is encouraged.”

He laughed at the look Brandon gave him and patted his shoulder. “I’m sorry. It’s really not that complicated. Vincent and Jonathan lived together first, they took Drew in and both fell head over heels. And I get to share the bed sometimes. With whoever wants me.”

“Susan, though,” his voice dropped half an octave as the smile slid from his face. “She was just someone Drew met at school. Who happened to become obsessed with him. And manipulated her way into his life and then even, once, into his bed.”

He turned away, a tremor in this voice. “I’m sorry…that’s all a little hard to think about still.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up something painful,” Brandon apologized softly. But that did explain several questions he’d had on his mind.

Brandon looked at Der with real concern, and he wanted to say something more, but they were interrupted. Yet another gorgeous boy, this one with sandy blond hair and pretty baby blues, came up and slid an arm around Der.

“Hey big guy, how’s the pussies?” Xavier asked with a gamin grin. He’d gotten rather fond of Der’s babies while he’d been looking after them.

Der managed a valiant recovery and smiled down at Xav. “Hey, beautiful.” He leaned in for a quick peck on the cheek. “They say thank you and they miss your visits.”

“Make sure you stroke Elektra’s belly for me when you get home, she loved that,” Xavier said and then flashed a smile at Brandon. “So who’s your friend?”

Der rolled his eyes. “Someone kitty-sits for a couple weeks and suddenly he’s an expert.” His arm still around Xavier, he extended a hand towards Brandon. “This is the gallant Brandon Grant, the firefighter who prevented several potential extra disasters during and directly after the fire. Brandon, this is our lovely resident troublemaker, Xavier Gavrilov.”

Xavier shook his hand and stayed a while longer to flirt with the firefighter, then he spotted Dave and excused himself.

“I think every hot boy in the city has found their way to this room,” Brandon murmured to Der with a chuckle.

Der took another long pull from his glass. Well, there certainly wasn’t any more question about what made the man’s head turn. He kept his tone light, his eyes perusing the room as he said, “You’re not so shabby yourself, you know.”

Brandon shook his head and gave a little self self-effacing laugh. “Maybe, but in a different way.” He gave Der an appreciative smile and wink, because Der was definitely hot in a different way, too. “And ‘not too shabby’ can’t really stand up to smokin’ hot, right?”

“Your pardon.” Der put a hand over his heart and offered Brandon a little bow. “I have a bad habit of understatement for the sake of irony. You are, without a doubt, take-me-in-the-back-room-wouldn’t-kick-you-out-of-bed-for-eating-cookies-and-cracker-jack hot.” He gave Brandon a warm smile. “The pretty boys are all lovely. But a little strength — it’s a wonderful thing sometimes, too.”

Brandon finally realized Der was flirting, in a subtle way. He’d missed it, he was so used to the big come on. So… what did he think of Der? He was attracted to him, he certainly wouldn’t mind getting to know him better. “Well, that’s good to know,” he said with a smile. “Shall we play twenty questions, then?”

“Oh, goody,” Der said with a little grin, claws drumming on his glass.

This was getting more and more interesting all the time. He‘d teased Jonathan about the baseball and apple pie thing but there was something about Brandon that hinted at more than just the usual jock, not the least of which was he didn‘t run screaming when an oversized goth with fangs talked to him. Interested? Oh, hell, yes. The physique was hot and the eyes were intriguing and heartbreakingly beautiful.

“I do love games. You start.”

“What do you do for a living?” Brandon asked.

“I am an artiste,” Der intoned dramatically, then grinned. “I paint cars. Detailing, special custom work, that sort of thing. ‘K, my turn. I already know what you do.” He thought a moment, not wanting to start with anything too personal. “Where’d you grow up?”

“I’m from all over, really. My dad was in the military. We moved around a lot.” He answered. “What about you? Are you from here?”

“I came down here to go to school but I’m from up the coast. Closer to Berkeley. My Mom still lives up that way, though she’s been down here the past few weeks to, ah, supervise my recovery.” Der let out an embarrassed chuckle. “Her one and only. I’m afraid no matter how big I am, she’ll never think of me as grown.”

All right, on to the more personal, his curiosity was killing him. “So, are you out? Or only in certain circles?”

“What do you mean? You think I’m gay?” Brandon gave a look of shocked surprise and put his fingers to his chest. “Why would you think that?” Then he cracked up and ruined it. “Sorry, sorry.” He cleared his throat, grinning. “I don’t know how to answer that really. I don’t hide it, but don’t go out of my way to tell people. The job makes it… hard. There’s a couple guys at the station that know, my chief, the LT.” He shrugged. “I’m not embarrassed or ashamed or anything, just don’t go out of my way to put it in people’s faces or make myself a target, you know?”

“Alright, so, I don’t think you’ve got any issues being just who you are.” He chuckled. “I don’t want you to take this wrong, but you don’t really match your look. I can tell. Is the body art just for aesthetics, or are you trying to distract people from your soft side?”

Der raised a brow at the question, then took a moment to look around the room and sip at his wine before he answered. “Are you one of those people who think goths are all suicide-obsessed drug-addicted nihilists?” he asked softly.

“Give me a minute to go look up nihilist and I’ll let you know,” Brandon said, and then chuckled at the look Der gave him. “No, I don’t. Appearances seldom tell you much about a person. I only asked because I was curious if there was meaning behind the modifications, or if it was just you liked the look. The ink work is very nice, by the way.”

“Thank you. Yes, for the aesthetics, in part. But what you see–” He spread his arms. “Is what I am. Wolves have a soft side, too, you know. I make no attempt to hide it.”

Der’s smile returned. “And speaking of ink, would you have any?”

“Yeah, I got a few.” Brandon answered. Part of one was visible at the bottom edge of the sleeve on his t-shirt. He pulled it up to show the tattoo of the department shield with two crossed axes behind it. One of the axes had a fire hat hanging on the end.

“Those your numbers on the hat?” Der asked.

“Nope, those are my dad’s numbers,” Brandon said. “I have her, too.” Brandon turned and pulled his shirt off. Down the center of his back was an angel, her wings spreading over his shoulder blades. It was beautifully done in black and shades of gray. A ribbon coiling around the angel’s feet read Sharon, Jacqueline, and Melissa.

“Oh, she’s beautiful,” Der murmured. Not the least bit shy, this one, oh, no, stripping in a room full of strangers. He fought back the chuckle as Brandon caused a bit of whiplash himself for half the room’s occupants.

He traced a claw over the top edge of the ribbon, wanting very much to touch that chiseled, powerful back. “The names? Sisters?”

“Good guess.” Brandon said. “My mom and two sisters.”

“Not bad Schiller,” Xavier commented, grinning. “Ten minutes and you got him taking his clothes off.”

“It’s a rare gift,” Der said with a little bow in that direction. He was more serious when he turned back to Brandon. “Truly lovely. And I hope I’m not bringing up things I shouldn’t but are they all still with you?”

Brandon gave him a funny little look and slid back into his shirt. “They’re still alive, yes. The other one’s the memorial.” He touched the shield on his bicep. “The angel I got to watch my back.” There was also a sunburst tattoo around his navel that Der could see most of, but the rest disappeared under his jeans.

“Ah. I misunderstood the symbolism. A fireman should have an angel looking over his shoulder, no doubt about that.” Der turned his right arm over and pointed a claw to the pair of big cats lounging on his forearm, a Siberian tiger and a snow leopard. “I do carry a memorial for my father as well.”

“That’s some nice work.” Brandon said. “I’ve shown you mine, now you show me yours?” he asked with a grin and wink.

“Oh, now, if you want to see all of it, we might need somewhere without such a large audience,” Der said a little too seriously. Then he reached up and pulled his shirt off as well so Brandon could see the extent of the tattoos and the piercings on his torso. “But I can give you a preview.”

While Brandon admired the jewelry, especially the bar with the suspended dragon pendant which hung from Der’s right nipple, a moving truck pulled up outside. Across the room, Vincent rose with a smile. “Ah, that would be my delivery.”

He swung himself over to open the door and then made his way down the walk to speak to the men from the truck. After a short conversation he headed back in and the men began to pull cloth wrapped bundles from the back.

“A little late,” Vincent said as he stopped next to Der to watch the proceedings. “I would have preferred this not to be quite so public. But there it is.”

“What is it?” Der whispered as he pulled his t-shirt back on.

Vincent’s little smile was maddening as he said, “Oh, you’ll see soon enough, my troubadour.”

During the rebuild of the condo Vince had taken the opportunity to make some changes, one of which was the door wall that led out onto the patio. The glass slider had been enlarged to a double hung glass that slid back from both sides. Not only did it provide a greater amount of natural light, and when open make it seem like the patio was part of the living room, but it provided one more essential requirement: a large enough opening through which the movers had no trouble fitting a baby grand.

Drew came out of the kitchen to find everyone preoccupied with something. As he moved to Vince’s side to see what had everyone’s attention he saw the moving van outside and knew right away what it was, even before the cloth-wrapped shape was lowered ponderously with pulleys from the back.

He looked at Vince and didn’t know what to say. “Vince…” He settled for wrapping his arms around him and burying his face into his shoulder.

Vincent leaned against him so he could hold Drew close with one arm. “I hope it’s all right, my love,” he murmured into Drew’s hair. “I didn’t simply want to replace the Vose with another. It was such a beautiful instrument and it felt…disloyal somehow. So I asked the nice folks at the piano dealer to look out for something special, a chamber instrument rather than something suited for the concert hall. If you don’t like it, we’ll send it back.”

Vincent could have ordered him a plastic piano in primary colors from Toys-R-Us and Drew wouldn’t have sent it back, but what he had gotten him was a far cry from that. The movers brought in and set up the piano. What was revealed as the protective cloths were taken away was a truly beautiful work of art with rich dark wood and classically carved legs.

Of course, the beauty of an instrument was not nearly as important as its sound and Drew could hardly stand still waiting until everything was accomplished with the move. By the time he sat at the bench he was itching to hear what the Mason & Hamlin Symetrigrand sounded like. So much so he forgot everyone else, at least for a few moments.

He played a few notes and then launched into the last thing he’d been working on, one of his own complex compositions. He listened critically to the tone and resonance and slowly began to smile. By the time he’d finished he was in love. Vince had known exactly what he liked, the richness and warmth of the tone perfectly matched the richness and warmth of the piano’s look.

Brandon had watched as Drew sat down at the piano, not knowing what to expect. He didn’t exactly listen to piano music. This though, was sheer beauty, no denying it. “Wow,” was all he managed to say to Der.

“Mmm, yep, I’d say that just about covers it.“ Der answered, a little tremor in his voice. He turned and kissed the top of Vincent’s head. “It’s so gods-be-damned perfect, handsome. Sometimes I think you work magic and you just don’t want to admit it.”

Vincent chuckled softly and swung himself over to sit next to Drew on the bench and encourage him to play something else.

“Oh, that’s so much better,” Der said as soft strains of Chopin wafted across the room. “You just don’t know how empty this room looked without the piano.”

They drifted farther into the room, towards the food, chatted softly and listened to the impromptu concert. The more Der talked to Brandon, the more he liked him and oh, yes, lusted after him.

At one point, Brandon reached for a piece of bruschetta and Der’s eyes followed hungrily as he bit off a piece. A little tomato sauce clung to the edge of Brandon’s luscious mouth and Der knew he wouldn’t be able to resist. He put a finger under Brandon’s chin and tilted his head up.

“You’ve left a little bit here,” he murmured before he leaned in to kiss the sauce off.

Brandon was so surprised he stood there looking stupid for a moment. “That was…unexpected. I mean, nice! Unexpectedly nice. Wait… that’s not what I meant.” He took a breath. “Can I start over?” He laughed.

Der had his hands clasped behind his back, rocking on his heels. “Oh, I think we’ll allow it this once. One more try.”

“Okay. Was that a kiss or were you just hungry?” he teased, and then laughed. “And if it was a kiss, do you want to go somewhere more private and try again?”

“I am hungry but there’s no ‘just’ about it,” Der said, the soft husky tone leaving no doubt as to what sort of hunger. He took Brandon’s hand and walked backwards as he pulled him down the hall to Drew’s room. “Drew won’t mind. He’s busy.”

The bedroom still smelled of paint, new carpet and detergent. Even the little Ugly Doll bat had been washed to banish the last hints of smoke. Der closed the door, put a hand on the small of Brandon’s back and gave him a soft smile. “Now, where was I? Oh, yes…”

He brought his free hand up to cup the side of Brandon’s face and leaned in to brush his lips softly over the ones waiting for him. A few teasing caresses later, he closed in for a tender, searching kiss.

Brandon was struck by two things nearly simultaneously. The first was that Der was a very good kisser. The second was that it was probably the first time he’d ever kissed anyone taller than he was and it was different. The relationships he’d been in, the guys he’d dated, were all more like Drew, or Xavier, or Jonathan. Slender build, average height, cute. Yeah, he definitely had a ‘type’ he usually went for, and Der was not it. And yet, he was still very attracted. His arms slid around Der as he pulled him closer and kissed him harder.

Claws combing gently through Brandon’s hair, Der pressed against the hard body offered to him. He slipped his other hand under the hem of Brandon’s shirt to trace along his ribs. Good gods…hard muscle even there. So damn hot.

He moved his lips to kiss up Brandon’s jaw to his ear where he whispered, “I’m betting you’re happier being the hose than the fireplug.”

Brandon chuckled softly. “I think I’m being stereotyped,” he teased. “Big guy, likes pretty boys, of course he’s a Top, right?” His hands came up so he could push his fingers into Der’s long hair. He smiled and winked at him. “My profile reads versatile bottom.”

“Oh, my, what a coincidence,” Der said with a look of almost-believable shock. “So does mine. Whatever shall we do?”

He lifted Brandon’s t-shirt and pulled it off over his head. “I suppose I’ll just have to be… flexible.” He yanked his own t-shirt off as well so they could stand chest to chest, hands roaming over bare skin and oh, damn, didn’t that feel just too sweet.

The make-out session got more serious and they moved to the bed. Hands and lips and tongue and lots of petting. Before more clothes came off though Brandon had to ask, “Um…are you sure its okay to, ah… here?”

“So long as we don’t leave a mess,” Der said with a grin. “Don’t worry, hon, it’s fine.”

“Okay.” Brandon wasn’t going to argue. He was not at all interested in stopping and picking things up later. Right now sounded great to him. So did getting the rest of their clothes out of the way. He reached for the buttons of Der’s fly and got them undone, eagerly peeling him out of his jeans.

His lips brushed over the scar on Der’s chest while his hands were busy and he quirked an eyebrow to inquire.

“And that’s fine, too,” Der said softly. “A little tender still, so I’d appreciate it if you don’t haul off and punch me there, but it’s fine.” He stopped short of saying ‘thanks to you’ since Brandon seemed to take the ‘just-doing-my-job-sir’ shtick to heart.

He lifted his hips to let Brandon slide his black jeans off and then as Brandon hooked his fingers into the waistband of his boxer briefs, he waited with that little mix of anxiety and anticipation fluttering in his stomach that always came with a lover’s first sight of his decorated cock.

Brandon slid them down to Der’s thighs and then paused. “Well… I don’t think I’ve ever been surprised by what I found in a man’s pants before,” he said, obviously quite intrigued. He couldn’t seem to help himself as he drew a fingertip slowly up the underside of Der’s shaft over each silver ball.

“I’m honored to be the first,” Der said on a chuckle that melted into a soft moan. He rolled down supported on his elbows. “You have the most wonderful hands.”

“I bet you say that to all the boys.” Brandon snickered as he shed the rest of his own clothes.

Lying naked next to each other they each had to do their own explorations. Careful touches, caresses and kisses. Brandon liked the jewelry, spending time kissing, licking and sucking Der’s nipples before he moved down to his navel and then lower

Happy to roll onto his back, Der’s hips lifted into Brandon’s attentions, little moans and quivers escaping when his tongue turned out to be as wonderful as his hands. When Der reached over the side of the bed for his jeans, Brandon tried to lift his head. Der pressed it back.

“No, no, you keep right on with what you’re doing,” Der said with a soft smile. “Just getting out some necessary things.” He pulled on his claw sheaths one by one, then set the condom next to them on the bed. “For your safety and mine.”

Brandon smiled and then couldn’t help laughing. “Sorry, sorry… I just pictured you in one of those orange hall monitor safety belt things. I have odd attacks of humor at inappropriate moments.”

“With me,” Der put a hand to his heart. “Humor is never inappropriate. Well, almost never.”

Fortunately it was only a temporary mood shift and after a return to making out things returned to steamy. Brandon got his taste of Der, in long strokes of his tongue up his decorated shaft. The beads made giving him head interesting, so did the soft moans and little rises of his hips.

He had his lips sealed around the head of Der’s cock and was gently kneading his balls when the door opened.

Drew froze a step inside the door. “Oops…uh, sorry,” he said quickly. “Sorry, Der.” He backed out and closed the door again.

“Drew!” Der rolled off the bed and stuck his head out the door without bothering to put a stitch on. “Sugar bear…it’s your room. Did you need something?”

“I-I…um…” Drew could feel the heat in his face and couldn’t help it; he knew he must be beet red. He shouldn’t be embarrassed, but it had just caught him completely off guard to find Der naked, on his bed… with the very hot firefighter. “I w-was j-just…I, um…” Jesus Christ, he couldn’t stop stammering. What the hell had he needed? He couldn’t even remember. God, Der looked yummy standing in the outline of the door… His mouth watered and he was suddenly hot with more than just embarrassment.

“CD!” he suddenly said, and swallowed with a dry click. “A CD, for Xav. I can get it later.”

Der almost choked on the chuckle that wanted out. The boy was so damned adorable when he was embarrassed. So cute, the way his face lit up like a bonfire, so beautiful…

A memory smacked into him of waking up in his sick room from a disorienting nightmare, Drew’s soft voice above him, Drew’s gentle hands untangling sweat-soaked sheets and soothing him, Drew snuggling in with him when he couldn’t settle, going down on him when he still couldn’t sleep.

“You sure could,” Der said with a soft, inviting smile. “Doesn’t mean you can’t come in now.”

“I didn’t mean to… you know, barge in on you.” Drew said softly, but he moved toward Der almost unconsciously. Moth to the flame, magnetic attraction, Drew couldn’t resist coming into Der’s arms.

Der moved back a little, letting Drew come into the room and closing the door again. Drew’s hands came up to his chest and slid around his neck and Der bent to kiss him, those inviting lips and the sultry look he gave him just too much to resist.

Brandon watched them kiss and the way Der’s hands caressed down Drew’s back to cup his cute little butt and he thought they just might start another fire here. Holy crap but they were hot, and so were the possibilities…maybe.

Der let the kiss heat to molten before he broke it off gently. With Drew still held in the circle of his arms, he turned a bit to indicate Brandon. “I do believe you two know each other?”

Drew just nodded.

Brandon grinned and said, “We’ve met.”

“Well, good. The preliminaries are taken care of then.” Der moved Drew in front of him, back pressed to his front and let his hands slide down Drew’s torso in a slow caress. At his waist, he tugged Drew’s jersey from his jeans and slid the material back up the way he’d come.

Drew tilted his head back on Der’s shoulder, a contented hum coming from him as Der’s hands caressed up his chest and paused to play with his nipples. He tugged the ring gently and Drew bit his bottom lip.

Brandon watched the little display with eager eyes. Drew lifted his arms at Der’s urging and Der pulled his shirt off.

Drew reached back to slide his hands into Der’s hair and Der slid his hands back down his torso, this time moving lower to caress over his narrow hips and work his button and zipper free. Drew was relaxed against him, no, more than relaxed. His butt pressed enticingly back into Der’s crotch and his fingers kneaded the back of his neck and skull encouragingly. He didn’t seem too concerned that Brandon was there and so Der continued to undress him. Sliding his jeans and boxers down he brushed his fingers over Drew’s erection and elicited a soft little moan and a writhe from his hips.

“God…” Brandon breathed. “So frickin hot…”

“And the fireman should know,” Der murmured with a little grin as he curled forward to plant a soft, sucking kiss at the side of Drew’s throat. “Sugar bear, do you want the incredibly hot firefighter to fan the flames?”

Drew paused for just a second and then nodded his head.

Brandon rose from the bed where he’d made sure to stay until he received such an invite. For a fairly large man Brandon moved with a sinewy strength. He came to stand in front of Drew, keeping just a few inches between them. He lifted one hand to gently cup the side of Drew’s face and bent his head to kiss him with tender heat.

If it had been the two of them alone Drew probably would not have kissed him, definitely would not have been standing there mostly naked, but Der was here with him and that made things feel more right. That, and it was a very nice kiss. After a moment of two Drew opened to him and let him explore a bit further.

Brandon’s hands slipped over Drew’s hips and continued on to caress Der behind him, never letting his lips leave Drew’s. This was like having a fantasy suddenly come to life. He finally lifted his mouth from Drew only to transfer his kiss to Der.

Der moaned into the kiss, hands traveling over both lovely bodies, his cock nestled hard and aching in the cleft of Drew’s cheeks. Slowly, still kissing Brandon, he moved to the side and finally broke the kiss to sink to his knees. He nuzzled at Drew’s slender thigh and then Brandon’s thicker one. The scent here was amazing, the musky spice from two aroused males.

“Oh, yummy,” he murmured as his licked up Drew’s shaft. “A second buffet.” His tongue slid over Brandon’s smooth head and then he alternated, kissing and licking from one to the other.

Drew combed the fingers of one hand into Der’s hair. He looked so sexy down there and he loved the feel of his lips and tongue and… for some reason Jonathan popped into his head. Jonathan wouldn’t mind him sneaking off with Der, but he might not like Brandon being with them. “Der… I think I should…oh…” Der slid his lips over the head of his cock and Drew temporarily lost the ability to think or speak.

Brandon’s lips closed over his again. He could feel Der’s hand caressing his back and Brandon’s joined his, moving in slow circles and then down over the curve of his butt. Things seemed to be moving fast even though Der was taking his time. They were moving to the bed, Der guiding him there still on his knees.

Drew sat and Der moved up to join them. Der kissed him and Drew melted against him, he was so keyed up, so turned on… but… “Der… maybe… I should…” Der sucked the skin at the base of his throat into his mouth and Drew moaned, his thoughts scattering.

“Hmm?” Der hummed against Drew’s skin but he wasn’t really asking seriously and soon forgot that Drew seemed to have a question as he pressed that sexy little body back onto the mattress.

He didn’t need to ask anyone’s permission for his liaisons so his brain conveniently stuffed away the knowledge that Drew did. He reached for Brandon instead to take a nipple in his mouth in a hard suck while his sheathed claws gently kneaded Drew’s balls.

Brandon began to kiss his way down Drew’s body, the desire to have a taste of him nearly overwhelming. When he reached Drew’s rigid staff he paused for a moment to kiss the pulse point in Der’s wrist, still caressing between Drew’s legs. Brandon thought Drew had a lovely cock, not huge but certainly enough to satisfy. His mouth closed over the end and he stroked him with one hand while he stroked the other over Der’s backside.

Drew made these incredibly sexy little sounds. Oh, but this boy could easily wrap him around his little finger if he’d wanted to.

Der moved around so Brandon could have unobstructed access. Brandon’s ass was amazing, high, rounded, firm globes. “Mmm…climbing ladders does wicked good things to glutes…” he murmured as he kissed the top curve of each mound.

He pulled the oil from Drew’s nightstand and poured a bit out in his palm as he kneaded Brandon’s cheeks. Watching Drew squirm and moan had him so overheated, he thought he might not last long enough to get where he wanted.

Brandon lifted his mouth from Drew for a moment to turn his head and look at Der. He shifted, lifting his ass a little higher for him.

“You do know how to make a man’s head spin,” Der said with a husky little chuckle. He teased the oil down the cleft of that beautifully offered backside, his pulse pounding in his erection. With Brandon still watching him, he circled the rim and eased one slippery, silicon-clad finger inside.

“Mmm, I may have been told a time or two,” Brandon said with a little wriggle of his hips and then gave a husky moan as Der’s finger slid inside him. He watched Der for a moment more and then returned his attentions to Drew, sliding him back in his mouth hungrily.

Der teased and readied him for a few minutes but maybe not as long as he normally would have. He felt dizzy and intoxicated and hadn’t had more than a half glass of wine. With practiced ease, he rolled the condom on one-handed, angled himself at the entrance and groped for one of Drew’s hands as he eased past the heavenly tight ring.

Brandon groaned and Drew shivered with the sensation of his lips vibrating around his cock. Der and Drew both eased into him at the same time and Brandon’s knees nearly melted with the pleasure racing through him. He took Drew in further, moving up and down on him in quicker strokes.

Drew swallowed hard, his hips rolling with Brandon’s rhythm and his breath coming fast. He kept that pace up and it was going to be over in no time. One hand tangled in Der’s, he moved the other into Brandon’s soft dark hair and gently guided him to slow down a little.

“Easy, easy,” Der murmured, his free hand gripping Brandon’s hip to slow his gyrations as well. Then since he couldn‘t resist a bad pun when it was so freely offered, added, “Where’s the fire?”

Brandon gave a little purring ‘mmm’ around Drew that was half chuckle but it had very nice results. Drew moaned and thrust a little harder, his fingers tightening in his hair. Such a beautiful sexy boy, he wanted to make him come so bad, but he did slow down a little, drawing out the sensual play as he moved between their bodies.

Over Brandon’s shoulder, Der caught Drew’s gaze, sultry and infused with pleasure. He mouthed, ‘I love you’ as he pulled halfway out of Brandon and thrust back in. He continued this way, slowly out, harder return thrusts, as he watched Drew’s beautiful face and stroked Brandon’s gorgeous body.

Brandon lost himself in the roll of hips and caress of hot hands and the taste of Drew in his mouth and the mounting pleasure building in his body. He wanted this to go on and on and at the same time he edged closer and closer to his climax.

Der stroked in and out his body, the little metal balls along the edge of cock stimulating in ways he hadn’t even thought about. All too soon he was there, ready, and a few quick hard strokes of his cock had him shooting like a fountain.

“Oh…good gods…” Der breathed as Brandon’s sleeve clutched him hard. His head tipped back, eyelids fluttering shut as he took two hard quick thrusts and let the pressure explode up from his balls.

Drew whimpered, panting hard as he watched the two gorgeous men thrust and flex and moan. Brandon’s warm mouth sucked at him, the tight ring of his lips pulling him off. The muscles of his abdomen bunched and he was about to come when the little thread of panic gripped him. His fingers buried in Brandon’s hair he tugged him back with a soft cry that could have been pleasure or fear.

He was so close that Brandon’s lips barely left him as the jet of pearly cream pulsed from the head of his cock and spattered Brandon’s lips. He opened his mouth and caught the next few bursts on his tongue.

Despite the myriad distractions, Der hadn’t missed the little bit of twitchiness. He eased out of Brandon sooner than he normally would have and slid down on the bed to curl around Drew. “It’s all right, sugar bear. Hold onto me. It’s all right.”

Drew turned to press his cheek against Der’s chest and snuggled close, but he didn’t cling as tightly as he would have liked to. He didn’t want to make Brandon feel like he’d done something wrong.

Brandon licked the sweet taste of Drew from his lips and slid next to him on his other side. His expression was a mix of sated happiness and confused concern. Despite Drew’s precautions he knew something was amiss.

Drew took a deep breath, filling himself with Der’s warm comforting scent. When he was steady again he turned his head to give Brandon a reassuring smile. “That was very nice.” He said softly.

“Definitely,” he said with a tender look for them both.

“Oh, good. So glad we could measure up to your exacting standards,” Der teased. He leaned over to give a soft kiss to Drew and then one to Brandon. “Shall we rejoin the party, gentlemen? I’m hungry.”