by H M Wolfe
''Yes, I should. Taking care of their submissive is one of the most important duties of a dominant. To my great shame, I failed in carrying that out before. And I hope you can forgive me for that.'' Ian spoke in the same tender voice.
Warrick knew better than to protest the man's words. Instead, he attacked the pancakes. ''They taste divine. Thank you, Master.'' he moaned in delight.
'' Does this mean I'm forgiven?'' The older man's face brightened as he tentatively touched Warrick's cheek. ''I've been pretty busy this morning. I've been doing some cleaning in a certain area of the house, namely the playroom,'' he continued with a smirk. ''I thought it was about time to start using it again. I wanted everything to be spot on for when we do.''
”The playroom? Oh, Master, thank you so much for giving me the chance to serve you again. I won't disappoint you; I promise.'' Warrick said, his eyes shining with gratitude.
''I know you won't, pet. I'm sure about that, and I never doubted it. I was only waiting for the right moment. You are the best submissive a Dom could ever wish for.'' Ian affectionately spoke, as his big hand petted the young man's head.
''I love you, Master!'' Warrick blurted out. ''Sorry, I shouldn't have said that. It somehow slipped out, and now I can't take it back.'' He spoke quickly, in a nervous voice, ''It's the truth.''
Ian didn't reply, as he was busy fighting against the lump in his throat. Finally, someone saw past the sternness associated with his Dom persona. He noticed the man, everything he had to give, and all his flaws. And the fact that the someone in question happened to be the one who ignited the fire of passion in his heart was nothing short of a miracle.
And there was the other aspect that made Ian feel accomplished. Not only as a man but also as a Dom. That was the trust and openness Warrick showed him. Of course, Olivier hadn't kept anything hidden from him either, but he didn't have any of the emotional baggage the other sub brought into their relationship.
Besides, he hadn't said the magical three words. Not even once, over the seven years, they'd been together. It was always Ian who'd said them; the other man was just echoing his words. And then the realization came, hitting him in full force. Olivier hadn't seen him as a man; the respect owed to his dominant was the only feeling the younger man had ever had for him.
Realizing Warrick was tensely waiting for his reply, Ian managed to swallow the lump and reply. ''How do you love me, pet? What do you feel for me?'' he finally spoke, his gentle voice soothing Warrick's jangled nerves.
''Well, it's complicated. I've never felt threatened by your presence. Nor have I found your frown intimidating, not even at the beginning. I felt almost instantly attracted to you, I've been attracted to the quiet strength you emanate, too...I'm sorry. Expressing my feelings was never something I was very good at.'' Warrick whispered, lowering his head.
''I noticed that from the start, and I always wondered why.'' Ian climbed onto the bed, holding his sub to his chest. ''I know your mother didn't love you as much as she loved Vinson and Valeran, but still...''
''It was Memere, mom's grandmother. She couldn't stand us, but there was nothing mom could do about it. She had nowhere to go. One day, I saw something and decided to protect my brothers. I did everything in my power to keep them safe, but I couldn't talk to them ever again. Not how I used to before, anyway.'' Warrick recited.
''What was it that you saw that day?'' Ian asked, starting to massage his sub's tensed shoulders. ''What could be that bad?''
''Master, the seeds were there the whole time, but I deliberately pushed that memory into the back of my mind. I desperately wanted to get over it, to deny what I saw...The relationship between them...Master, it started under my very eyes, and I let it develop into what it is today.'' Warrick whispered, overwhelmed with guilt.
Ian got up from the bed, took the tray into the kitchen, and started to clean their plates so that Warrick couldn't see the pain in his eyes. The young man's confession broke his heart, and the revelation about the punishments he'd had to endure from such a young age made him boil with anger. Everything was over, Warrick had risen from the ashes more than once. It was about time for him to stop burning.
Ian let out a heavy sigh. No, he thought, it wasn't over in the least. All those things had to be discussed with Vinson and Valeran. And it was his duty, as a Dom, to convince his sub of the necessity of that talk. It could either make Warrick stronger or break him, but this time, he would be there to pick up the pieces.
CHAPTER 11
''I
have some great news for you guys!'' Vinson barged into the imposing dining-room of their house, where his mother and brothers were waiting for him to start eating lunch. ''I'm going to be a father!''
''Oh, sweetie, congratulations!'' Maeve left her seat, wrapping her arms around the young man's neck and kissing him on the hair. ''You have no idea how happy your words make me. I've been waiting for this moment for so long,'' she whispered. ''You and Isobel will make great parents for that baby; I have a feeling.''
''Thank you, mom.'' Vinson hugged the woman tightly, happiness written all over his face. ''I asked for her hand in marriage earlier, and she did me the great honor of accepting my proposal.''
''You did what!?'' Warrick's stern, cold tone, and livid face made his brother freeze on the spot. ''Please, tell me I didn't hear you correctly and that you didn't propose to Isobel Hoskins?'' he repeated, his voice becoming pleading. ''I'm not saying that you shouldn't take care of the child. That you shouldn't provide for them, but marrying...What about your studies, your dreams of becoming an architect? Are you going to give up on them just like that?''
''Well, as you said earlier, I have to provide for my child and soon-to-be wife, college will have to wait. I talked to Mister Hoskins; he understood my situation and offered me a job inside his construction company.'' Vinson enthusiastically spoke, his eyes shining with hope.
''Well, then. I guess there's nothing left to be said on the subject.'' Warrick said in an indifferent voice, shrugging. ''I'm sorry, but I can't congratulate you on giving up on your lifelong dreams to play at the mature, responsible man.''
Curled at his brother's side, Valeran remembered the devastating pain he felt at the news of his other half getting married. Of course, he understood Vinson's reasons and was proud that his brother had decided to stick with the woman who was bearing his child. Instead, he could have left her, as their father had done, but the pain was the same.
The worst thing was that Valeran still shared his room with Vinson, and he couldn't express his sorrow with him around. However, when he did, it was to Warrick. He was the one who held him and offered him solace in his awkward way. He was the one who listened to his pointless, long ramblings about how empty he was going to feel inside, once Vinson was married.
And then, his lover had hugged and kissed Valeran all over, saying that he would never abandon him. They'd made sweet love to seal that pact, and Valeran believed the words of the one he'd shared everything with since the beginning. He delved in his studies, won all the possible scholarships and contests, making his mother proud.
Every time his brother came home with another prize won at the competitions he'd participated in, a soft look appeared in Warrick's eyes, and he was the first to congratulate him. Meanwhile, the encounters between him and Vinson became shorter, their lovemaking more intense, somehow impatient, even. But Valeran didn't complain; he just took everything his brother had to offer.
Until that one fateful day, when the man he loved didn't want him in his life anymore, he'd appeared on the doorstep of the little studio Valeran had bought with the money he made by selling his pictures. His savings plus a loan generously provided by Warrick had purchased it. Without stepping inside, the man had announced that the two of them couldn't see each other anymore. That announcement had shattered his heart to pieces.
Pain, sorrow, emptiness, devastation—the words were not enough to express what Valeran felt that day and over the next several months. It had
been the most creative period of his career. That was when he'd painted the most celebrated of paintings. He'd made a name for himself in the art world. He was soon known as the painter of feelings or the painter in the wind.
Vinson started to shift, then opened his eyes, the brightest of smiles appearing on his face when he saw Valeran was awake. Cupping his beloved's face with both hands, the man captured his sweet-tasting lips in a short, gentle, but also intense kiss. It was filled with promises for later.
''Morning, beautiful one! How long have you been awake?'' Vinson ran the pad of his thumb along his lover's jaw, taking in every little line.
''For quite a while. But, since you were sleeping, I decided not to wake you up. I spent the time thinking about a lot of things, instead.'' The sincerity and warmth in Valeran's voice made Vinson's heart flutter.
''And what were you thinking about? If it's not a secret, of course.'' He murmured in his Vale's ear, running a hand up and down his back.
''I don't have anything to hide, especially from you. I was thinking about you, me, and Warrick. About us and the future that awaits us.'' Valeran spoke in the same voice from earlier. ''Vin, I think we should go to Ian's and talk to our brother, explain to him...''
''No!'' the other man said in a stern voice he immediately regretted. ''He can't understand and won't listen. He's blinded and deafened by his prejudice.''
''You don't know Warrick. He's not like that!'' Valeran passionately defended his brother. ''Back when...when you were married, he encouraged me to move forward. He wanted me to keep on painting and to participate in extracurricular projects. Maybe he's not great at using words to express his feelings, but was, and still is, very proud of me.''
''It's me, I'm the one who disappointed him. The one whose choices he disapproved of.'' Bitterness mixed with sadness in Vinson's voice. ''I tried to explain my decision to Warrick, right after I made my announcement. But he wouldn't listen. He just turned his back on me and...''
''There's something you don't know.'' Valeran gently placed a finger on his beloved's lips. ''When I went to check on him, a few minutes later, I saw our brother crying. It was...I can't compare it with anything I've witnessed, before or after that.'' The young man shook his head, a worried look in his eyes.
The image of his reserved, almost stern brother crying his soul out made Vinson's heart wrench in pain. He would never have imagined the magnitude of the effect the news of him getting married would've produced on Warrick. Of course, after three years since Isobel had walked away, Vinson knew that marrying her was one of the worse decisions he ever made. But how could Warrick have been so sure about that back then?
Suddenly he realized. It didn't have to do with the idea of marriage; or with the woman to be his bride. His taciturn brother mourned the death of Vinson's dreams. His dreams which they had shared as teens, the only bridge of communication between he and Vale, on one hand, and Warrick on the other.
The buzz of his lover's phone brought the man back before he could start blaming himself for losing the connection with their brother. He intently stared at Valeran's face, trying to figure out who'd sent him the message, but the expression his twin harbored was hard to decipher.
''Warrick messaged me.'' Vale finally spoke. ''He wants us to meet and talk. Your place or Ian's, the decision is up to us, he said. His partner is not at home so that it will be only the three of us.''
''Tell him to come here, then. I'm not in the mood to leave the house.'' Vinson suggestively winked, but his message passed unnoticed. ''And the whole thing with my place, your place drives me crazy. Why don't you move in here with us?''
''Because there's no space for all my painting supplies, and none of the rooms is bright enough to be converted in a studio.'' Valeran patiently explained. ''We've had this discussion before, remember?''
''Yes, I do.'' Vinson huffed in annoyance. ''But that doesn't mean I'm thrilled about the idea.''
''Warrick answered my text. He'll be here in about an hour. Would you care to join me for a shower?'' Valeran ignored his brother's comment, for the second time in less than ten minutes.
''Get under the shower with you, and doing the naughty? Who am I to say no to such a tempting offer?'' Vinson grinned.
The two got under the shower, hot droplets of water cascading over their skin, while they lathered each other's body with soap and aromatic oils. They slowly ran their hands up and down each other's bodies, setting them on fire. Their kisses came naturally. They were a gentle battle for dominance between the two, won by Vinson, as usual.
At a certain point, Vinson ended up facing the wall, and Valeran saw the opportunity and seized it. Parting his lover's legs a little more with his knee, he positioned himself at his well-oiled entrance, and slowly entered him. Pressing Vin to the cold tiles of the shower, Vale rocked his hips in and out of Vin's tight hole, rapidly. The lovemaking was a combination of hot and sweet, slow, and urgent. Every move Valeran made was turning the men into a panting, moaning mess.
It didn't take long for Vinson and Valeran to reach their climax. Just as they did with everything else, the explosion of their passion rocketed through them at the same time, a look of pure bliss on their faces. Still panting with their pleasure, they finished their shower and got dressed, fighting hard to keep their hands off of each other. Fortunately, the buzz of the doorbell announcing the arrival of Warrick put an end to that torture.
''Hello and welcome.'' Vinson greeted him, gesturing to the inside of the house. '' We're happy to have you here.''
''Hello, brothers. It's always good to see you.'' their guest smiled tiredly. ''How are you and the little ones? I miss them a lot.'' he continued, stiffly hugging the two.
''We are good, thank you. So are Wilmot and Marinette.'' Valeran hesitantly smiled as the three headed into the living-room. ''How about you?''
''I'm much better, thank you.'' Warrick took a seat, ''Back to the office in full force, and that is the reason why I haven't had any free time on my hands lately. With Christine ready to give birth any day now, poor Mallory needs all the help he can get.''
''Are you the only one in that office?'' Vinson asked, a little irritated. ''Doesn't he have other people who can do the job? Don't get me wrong, but you just got back after a challenging period and...''
''Thanks for worrying over me, but you shouldn't. Really, there's nothing I can't handle. Of course, there are many other employees, but I'm the head of the department. I can't let others do my work. However, I didn't come here to talk about work, so I'll get straight to the point: how does it feel to be with your brother?''
CHAPTER 12
''W
hat?! I can't believe you!'' Vinson exploded. ''You come here! Into my house! Under the pretext of discussing and straightening up the misunderstandings between us! And instead, you are invading our privacy and demanding to know...''
''Calm down, it was a simple question.'' Warrick flatly replied. ''Since you aren't willing to answer me, let's talk about the weather. Then I'll go home.''
''No,'' Valeran pleaded. ''Don't go, brother. Not yet. I suppose that it doesn't matter who answers the question. Am I right? Every time I'm in Vin's arms, it feels like heaven. He's so sweet, takes so much care of me. He makes me feel like the most important person on Earth. He's always meticulous in preparing me. He's gentle, patient, and delicate when...you know...'' A light blush crept up on Valeran's neck and cheek when he said those last words.
''Thank you, Vale. I appreciate your openness.'' Warrick offered his brother a weak smile. ''You may want to keep a low profile, especially when the kids are around.'' He continued in a semi-professional tone.
''That's it! You've overstepped the line with that one!'' Vinson had lost control again. ''How dare you...''
''I'll leave. It's obvious that I'm not wanted here.'' Warrick said to no one in particular. ''But before I go, I'll say what I came to say because I care too much about Wilmot and Marinette to leave things like this. Did you ever think about the i
mpact your relationship would have on your chances of getting full custody of the children?''
''Isobel didn't want our children in her life, and Mister Hoskins hasn't expressed any interest in filing for their custody, so what's the point of this whole discussion?'' Vinson asked in a somewhat calmer voice.
''That was because his only daughter was alive and well.'' Warrick continued in the same official voice. ''However, rumors are that something terrible happened to her a few months ago, and now he's looking for a reputable custody lawyer or office who will represent him.''
Vinson looked at his brother as if he was speaking Chinese. He was unable to comprehend the dimensions of the catastrophe because that was the word that described the situation most accurately. His wife was either dead, or totally incapacitated, and that voracious father of hers was after the children. His children.
Still under the impression of Warrick's words, and trying hard to process the recent information, Vinson cast a glance in his brother's direction. He'd screwed up again, royally, the man thought. He was angered at his hot temper and lack of patience. Indeed, Warrick didn't come there to talk about his feelings. He came to help, and all he did was yell at him.
