Fearless

by R. G. Alexander

  Lies. A little truth. More lies. Don’t let him see.

  Only Rory had to know Elder meant every word he said. That he wished Rory had died in place of his wife or with her instead of being such a disappointment.

  That he was weak. A faggot. A mistake.

  James brought him back to the present with a snap of his fingers. “Are you even listening to me?”

  “I wasn’t sure you were really here.” Rory forced a smirk. “The ghost of my missing brother only shows up every third full moon.”

  “Put a sock in it, pretty boy,” James sighed, cracking his neck and stretching his lean body as if he were preparing for a fight. “This place looks smaller now, doesn’t it? I have memories of getting lost playing hide and seek with Brady, but now I have no idea where anyone could hide in a house this small.”

  There were places.

  Rory tried to see their home through his brother’s eyes. The frayed recliner his father lived in. The shelf of awards and medals Sol had earned throughout his life, covered in dust. The large flat screen they’d all pitched in to get him last Christmas. The old, charred coffee pot in the sink and the closed blinds, now a dingy yellowing gray from age. Everything was in shadow. Tainted.

  It was so different from his aunt and uncle’s home. That place was always filled with sunlight. Or maybe it was happiness.

  His uncle used to bring a little of it to them when he came to see them over the years. A toy, a bag of candy, books Rory hid under his bed. Once, he’d even brought Owen’s bike over and taught Wyatt and Rory how to ride it while his father was at the station.

  Shawn might have failed to patch up his relationship with his brother during those visits, but he—along with a middle school librarian, a handsome Social Studies teacher—had become one of Rory’s unintentional guardian angels.

  He would have run away in a heartbeat if he’d thought Shawn would take him in. It was all he used to dream about before David came along.

  “What’s Solomon doing up there? Napping?”

  Out of the three of them, Younger had been the only volunteer to enter Sol the Elder’s room to fill a small overnight bag with necessities.

  Rory had only joined the trio to get away from the hospital and Shawn’s questions. Since Wyatt and Noah had to work, Brady was taking a turn with their uncle in the waiting room until the latest scans came back.

  He wasn’t sure why James was still hanging around. “You should go look for him. Maybe Elder was stashing drugs in the walls and his oldest boy is hiding the evidence.”

  “Maybe you’re in a shitty mood because I took you away from the pleasure palace,” James shot back easily. “Does our sweet little cousin know what you’re up to in her house?”

  Rory grinned evilly, appreciating the change in topic. “Our sweet little ménage-loving cousin? She planned it, the schemer. Left me alone with my own set of bookends while she took hers to the island.”

  “She’s on an island?”

  “You really are missing out on all the best family gossip.”

  James scowled. “I hear what I need to.”

  “How’s Donna?” At least he has a mom to hang out with. Stop being a prick.

  Younger’s voice halted any potential response from James. “Why are you baiting him, Rory? He’s here now. That’s enough.”

  “I was only curious. It’s not like we need another hungry man hoarding Finn Again leftovers.”

  James eyed him with a strange expression. His lips curved again, tightening the scar on his face. “I think our baby boy misses me, Solomon.”

  “Younger,” his brother corrected. “And we all do, James. I’ve told you that before. Many times.”

  Rory smiled. Solomon used to hate his nickname. A few months ago he’d changed his tune. He wondered if it had something to do with his resignation from the force. He’d ask him, but they’d never spent a lot of time in deep conversation. With ten years separating them and Solomon being the overachiever that he was, he didn’t have much in common with Rory.

  He watched him set down a gym bag and a fraying, faded backpack that looked familiar. “Hey, that’s mine.”

  “I don’t think so.” James shook his head. “I packed your room into a U-Haul for your eighteenth birthday. I would have remembered that purple eyesore.”

  Rory wanted to argue but he couldn’t. James had a photographic memory and though Rory had used that backpack for his last two years of high school—crammed it full of books and writing journals and carried it everywhere—James had already been out of the house for years by then.

  “Oh yes, the birthday ousting. I love Memory Lane. Let’s stay here forever,” he quipped before starting toward the door. “You guys coming?”

  “Ousting?” Younger said, the authority in his voice forcing Rory to slow down. “You feel like explaining that?”

  Shit. Elder’s reaction today was putting him off his game. “Sure. My name is Rory. I’m the smartass of the family. Other than inappropriate sexual commentary? That’s kind of my thing.” Fun Rory. Lying Rory. Pretend Rory.

  “Hell.” James laughed, but it wasn’t a happy sound. It was…weary with an edge of bitter knowledge. “You didn’t ask to be moved out for your eighteenth, did you? When you came home and acted surprised I thought you were joking.”

  He wasn’t. He’d gone to breakfast with David at their favorite diner to celebrate his coming of age over waffles and bacon. When he got home, his brothers were all moving him out and telling him manual labor was a shitty birthday request. They’d thought it was what he’d asked for, but the truth was, as soon as he was legal, his father had kicked him out.

  “Does it matter?”

  “Of course it does.” Younger clenched and unclenched his fists, looking around the room as if the walls held an explanation before settling on Rory. “You said you didn’t need help unpacking because your friends were meeting you at your new apartment. You’d planned it.”

  For someone who’d paid so much attention to all of them, Younger didn’t look happy that he’d been wrong. To be fair to his brother, Rory had been too skilled at hiding by then.

  But he didn’t want to lie. Not now. Not today. Maybe Rig’s favor was still in his head, he wasn’t sure, but he felt compelled to tell them the truth. “I drove the U-Haul to a coffee shop and searched the listings until I found a place I could afford. David and his father helped me move in that night. I told them it was my birthday present to myself.”

  His brothers looked so pissed he felt the need to soothe them. “I was going to leave anyway. That’s why I’d been working for my self-defense teacher and assisting my gymnastics coach.” He’d saved next to nothing from the few hours he’d been able to help out, but luckily he’d also sold a short story to a magazine. A bit of fiction about the trials and tribulations of a gay football mascot. It had been his saving grace. That entire check was the down payment on his shithole apartment. It was also the last time he’d written something that wasn’t for a grade. He didn’t have time for pipe dreams if he was going to pay his rent and put himself through school.

  Neither of them knew about that either. “I was glad you were all there to help.”

  “I don’t understand why you didn’t tell us.” There was something in Younger’s eyes that Rory couldn’t deal with. Didn’t want to.

  Fuck. He hated all of this. “Look, it was no big deal and it happened years ago. I should get going anyway. I have company I left to help with this, and Duck and Goose need to be taken care of.”

  “Duck and Goose?” James asked, puzzled. “I thought their names were David and Anthony?”

  Rory’s laugh was one of relief. “Jennifer’s dogs, James. Not the men. Please try to keep up with the Finn newsletter. There are a lot of new members, canine and human, in the family now.”

  Younger walked over to him, still frowning. “I really think we need to talk about what happened today with Sol.”

  Was he kidding? “We don’t talk about things on thi
s side of the Finn family blanket, brother. You know that. We brood and avoid each other and committed relationships like they’re some kind of infectious disease. We laugh at our pain and act as tough and cynical as Elder wanted us to be, and God forbid we ever show him or anyone else a sign of weakness.”

  “He used to hit Solomon.” James used his voice quietly, but it filled the whole room like the clanging of a bell. “When I did something wrong, if it was a weekend and he was sneaking a drink or two? He’d hit Solomon for not doing his job as my older brother. Then he’d hit me for good measure, because I looked like my mother instead of him. Devil-green eyes,” he pointed out grimly.

  Rory rubbed his temples, feeling claustrophobic. Unsure. “No. He always talked about you. Bragged about the two of you.”

  James shrugged. “And yet, no matter how hard Solomon tried to protect us from it and distract the old man, every one of us earned Sol’s disapproval or felt his belt. You weren’t the only one. Just the last.”

  Rory looked down, knowing he’d inspired his father to more creative extremes when it came to punishments. Knowing there was no way to talk to them about it. Not without falling apart. “Thank God he didn’t marry again, I guess. We’re better off without another screwed up Finn around.”

  “You can talk to us, Rory.” Younger’s voice was careful but he could hear the concern. And an urgency he didn’t understand. “We’re here for you. James isn’t trying to be dismissive.”

  James sent a sharp look to Younger. “Of course I’m not.” He turned toward Rory. “I meant you aren’t alone. None of us have to stand here and pretend he didn’t fuck us up just because he’s in the hospital. We’d be hypocrites if we did.”

  “Thanks. I know what you meant.” Rory forced his feet to move until he reached the door. “And it’s all good, really. We’ll talk later. I’m going back to Jen’s now, so call me if you need me.”

  He was shaking by the time he turned the truck’s ignition. He drove back on autopilot, haunted by images of his father’s twisted face on that hospital bed, and memories of a childhood he’d long since buried in the back of his mind.

  If Rory was more together he could have been the rock his brothers needed, helped them the way he’d helped Stephen and Tasha during her pregnancy. But this was Elder, and Rory couldn’t handle it. He’d done the bare minimum and then he’d run away. The only silver lining was that it wasn’t out of character, not for the kind of person half his family assumed he was.

  When he opened the front door, Duck and Goose were dancing around him as if he’d been gone a year, the smells in the house made his stomach growl and he could hear Rig and David talking animatedly in the kitchen. Laughing.

  They were still here. And because of that, it felt like home.

  Neither of them said a word when he joined them, but they pulled him into their arms and held him as if he were something precious. He closed his eyes against the tenderness their touch evoked inside him. The need. This. This was what he’d always craved. Who he’d always needed.

  And any minute it could all be taken away.

  Rig fed him from several pans filled with more Rigatelli family leftovers—stuffed shells, clams and homemade tortellini—and the three of them sat in the living room watching television as if nothing were wrong. Nothing had changed.

  His head was on David’s lap, strong hands stroking his hair, and Rory reveled in each caress. He wanted to stop thinking. He wanted to enjoy the moment. He needed…

  “What are you doing?” David asked when Rory lowered himself to the floor between his legs and reached for the tie on his sweatpants.

  “It’s my turn. I need to taste you.”

  He tossed the pants away, his eyes on David’s growing erection as he licked his lips. “Can I?”

  “Please,” David said softly without hesitation. “I’ve needed your mouth on me all day.”

  Perfect. Everything they said was perfect. Everything they did.

  “You coming, Rig?” Rory asked without glancing over his shoulder.

  Rig’s laugh was devilish. “I hope so. But you’ll need to let me use my tongue for that to happen.”

  Yes.

  The three of them stripped in silence and then Rory was reaching for David’s heavy shaft. “I love your cock.”

  “You’ve mentioned that before.” David sounded amused. “Show me how much, Roar.”

  His mouth was watering. He needed this. To lose himself in them. To be touched. Loved by somebody. By them. He shuddered as Rig rubbed the tension out of his back and kissed his shoulder.

  “We’ll make it better, Rory.” Rig’s breath warmed the back of his neck, making him smile. “Let us give you what you need.”

  “Thank you for staying,” he whispered so quietly he wasn’t sure either of them could hear.

  Rig kissed him again, watching as Rory started licking David’s smooth, salty shaft. God, it tasted so good. Better than dinner. Warm, willing David. Best dessert in the world.

  “That’s a beautiful thing,” Rig said over his shoulder. “I’d join you, but I have an ass to attend to. One I’ve been dying to get back under my tongue for a while now.”

  His skin was so sensitive he could feel Rig’s breath like fingers down his spine as he lowered his head. He knew what was coming. Was desperate to feel it. To have both of them.

  Rory’s mouth opened wide tried to take as much of David as he could, his tongue tracing a vein up the shaft and making David moan and grip his head in reaction. “That feels so good. Your mouth feels so good.”

  Rory’s body shuddered when Rig spread his ass cheeks and yanked his hips back. “Don’t stop until David comes in your mouth,” he ordered. “No matter what I do to you, don’t stop.”

  Rory’s lashes fluttered in agreement as the weight of his need drew them down. David’s scent and taste were driving him insane. Rig’s hands on his body… This was real. David wanted him—Rig wanted him—and this was real.

  Rig buried his face between his cheeks and immediately started tonguing his hole. Rory’s shout vibrated against David’s cock.

  “That’s right,” David said, fingers tangling in his hair and tugging him closer. “We’ve got you. I’ve got you. Let me fuck your mouth, Rory. I love it as much as you love my cock.”

  Rory groaned, letting David’s hands guide him up and down his thick shaft. His eyes watered and he choked on saliva and skin, but that just made him want more. More. Make me take it. Fill me up.

  Rig pushed his tongue deep and nibbled at the ring of muscles and nerve endings like he was starving. He dropped his head lower and sucked Rory’s balls into his mouth one by one until he was shaking, until all he could think about was touching himself until he came. But he didn’t.

  They had him. They wanted him. They were in control.

  “God that’s hot,” David said huskily. “Do you like what he’s doing? How his tongue feels?”

  Rory nodded as much as he could against David’s hands.

  “Would you let me do it?”

  Another desperate nod. Anything.

  Rig was growling against his ass now, tongue flattening and teeth biting and Rory wasn’t sure how much more he could stand. When Rig’s fingers started pushing against him, Rory covered David’s hand with one of his own and pressed.

  David got the message, moaning Rory’s name as he lifted his hips and started to use Rory’s mouth to get himself off. “Oh fuck, that’s good. So deep I can feel you swallowing around me. God, Rory, I’m close.”

  Rig’s tongue was buried deep inside him, his hands smacking his cheeks so hard it stung as David started coming down his throat.

  Yes. Fill me up. Need you both. Love me. Take me.

  Tears were sliding unchecked down his cheeks by the time he’d swallowed the last drop. He’d heard Rig find his release behind him, felt the warm wetness on his thigh, felt the hard hands making gentle circles on Rory’s back as he recovered.

  David tilted his head up and cuppe
d his chin. “What can I do?”

  He didn’t know what to say, or if he could even speak at all. He needed them so badly.

  More.

  “Fuck him,” Rig answered for him, his voice rough as sandpaper. “That’s what he really needs, and we both know how long he’s been waiting for you to take him.”

  “But I don’t know how—”

  Rig tugged Rory to his feet and half carried him to the stairs. “He’s already been prepped, and we both enjoyed it. Now we’ll take him to bed so I can watch you fuck his sweet ass. It’s been on the top of my bucket list since I knew he was willing.”

  Rory’s too.

  A part of him knew they were doing all of this for him. Taking away his worries. Taking charge. This was exactly what he wanted. But he couldn’t stop shaking.

  Rig tossed him on the bed he’d slept in the night before and he rolled onto his back, watching through emotion-blurred eyes as Rig kissed David and took his cock in hand. It was already hardening again, growing with every firm stroke.

  Rig lifted his lips to grin at Rory. “Our bull has stamina and he’s easy on the eyes. I say we keep him.”

  David elbowed him lightly. “Look who’s calling me a bull, Beefaroni.”

  “Funny too.” Rig slid his hands around and squeezed David’s ass. “Someone needs a spanking.”

  Rory scraped his teeth across his lower lip at the idea of watching that. David noticed and left Rig’s arms, crawling onto the bed to join him. He ran his hands over Rory’s chest and the erection that was already leaking with the need for release. “Is this really what you want, Rory? We could wait until you’re feeling better.”

  He shook his head so hard it throbbed and Rig swore. “Damn, look at him. He needs this now, Mills. Take care of our man.”

  Rory started to roll over to show them how ready he was, but David stopped him. “Not this first time. I want to see your eyes when I take you.”

  Rig slathered his hands with lube and joined them on the bed, stroking David over his condom before sliding two fingers deep in Rory’s ass, making him cry out in need.