by Sean Michael
He'd made it about seven steps when his cell rang. It was home. “I'm fine.”
“Grey...” It was Whit. “Come home and talk to him. He's beside himself.”
“Tell him I'm fine.” His words were curt, but his heart ached, feet already speeding towards his Raine, his heartbeat. “Are you with him?”
“Yes, but it isn't me he wants, Grey, it isn't me he fought with.” Whit sighed. “He looks as miserable as you sound and you're both breaking my heart.”
“That's cheating.” He finally stopped and flagged down a cab. Home. He needed to be home.
“I don't care.”
He shook his head. “Whit...”
“I don't care, Grey. All's fair in love and war, right? And I love you both. Come home.”
“I'm coming. I need a towel.” He hung up the phone with a growl and within breaths, he was home. Once his stiff fingers got the outside door unlocked, he took the stairs two at a time. He wouldn't pretend nonchalance. Raine would know.
Whit met him at the upstairs door with a towel, hands peeling away his wet coat. “Oh, Grey...”
“Is he okay?” He wrung out his hair, wiping his face after putting the booze on the side table.
“He's dry and home. But that's all he's got on you.”
“I'm fine.” He took a deep breath and forced himself to look at Whit, smile. “We fought. We're brothers. It happens. Thank you for calling.”
“I can see you're fine. So fine you were out in the rain getting soaked.” Whit shook his head and took his arm, pulling him toward the fire. Whit slid the towel through his hair, taking away the worst of the wet. “Raine, he's home, come and make up now.”
He heard a soft sob, Raine's eyes set in a look that he knew better than anyone. “You left.”
“Don't pout.” Not now, Raine. I wasn't going anywhere. I always come home.
“I'm not pouting! I was worried. You left! I was scared! What if something had happened to you!” Don't leave me alone here, Grey. Please, my Grey, my heart. Please, I was so scared.
He almost melted, pulling Raine close, but he held up his cell phone instead. I was close by. I am not the one who leaves. You were not alone, Raine. You could have called.
Big tears gathered in Raine's eyes. “I shouldn't have to. You should be where you belong. Where we belong. You should not disappear.” My Grey, I was scared. I need you here. We are three now. Three. Not two. Not one of us and Whit. Never. One heart, my Grey.
He sighed, shook his head. “I am here, Raine.” I am where I belong, brother. I am. I could not leave you. I have only breathed alone without you for six minutes. Six.
Whit was watching them, looking from one to the other, obviously following the conversation, even if he could not hear it and did not know the exact words. “Would this be easier for you both if I went to my office for awhile?”
“No.” One word—two voices.
“We have to settle this together, Whit. Talk together. Be together. We are family, yes, Grey? Isn't Whit our family?” Raine was shaking, nerves shattered.
He nodded. “Yes. Yes, Raine.”
Raine was right. They needed to talk. Together. Be together. Family.
Whit smiled and nodded. “Yes.”
Then Whit sat down on the bear rug in front of the fire and held out his hands. “Sit with me, please?”
“I'm wet, Whit.” Two sets of upset eyes looked at him and he sighed, starting to strip out of his clothes.
Raine walked over to the bed and brought his robe over, holding it open. When he was naked, Grey shrugged on the warm cloth and then turned, offering Raine a soft kiss. “Thank you.”
“Grey...” The cry was soft and sad and Grey pulled Raine close, walking with him so they could sit with Whit, near the fire.
Whit touched them both, a hand on each of their legs, rubbing gently. “It feels so wrong—the two of you being at odds like this.”
He nodded and sighed. “It is hard, but all families fight.”
Raine curled up in his lap, stroking his arm. “But not all families hurt as much, my Grey. And it was my fault, the fight.”
He blinked. Raine's fault?
“What happened?” Whit looked as if he would sit there with them forever if that were how long it took them to resolve this.
Grey looked at Raine. He didn't want to do this. He loved Whit. Loved him. Didn't want to lose those eyes, that laugh.
Raine turned to look at Whit. “We disagreed about telling you things about our past. About the way we made love. Grey was scared and I pushed too hard. Threatened to speak to you without him here.” Raine looked back at him. “I'm sorry, my Grey. I should not have.”
“You fought because of me?” Whit sounded horrified.
Grey looked up. “No. We disagreed about how you would feel about our past.”
Whit frowned. “Why didn't you just ask me?”
Grey sighed and rested his forehead on Raine's shoulder, Raine's hand in his hair. “Because Grey is in love with you, Whit. Because he doesn't want you to leave, to be angry with him, to be frightened of him.” A soft chuckle sounded. “I told him you wouldn't, but he's in love. He doesn't listen.”
Grey just closed his eyes and let Raine speak for him.
Whit's fingers were warm and gentle against his face. “I don't understand, I'm not going anywhere. Why would I ... why would I be angry?”
Raine held him close. “Whit ... You've seen the pictures, the photographs, the way we played. The leather, the toys, the whole thing. Have you ever wondered about them? Why we did it? Why we don't now?”
Whit blushed and looked away for a moment. He looked back at them both. “You know I like the photographs. Of course I've wondered.”
“I need that. Not often. But sometimes I need it—need Grey to make me fly, make me scream, make me come. I need him to bind me, touch me. See me.” Raine's shiver transmitted itself to Grey, making them both moan softly.
Whit licked his lips, a soft sigh blowing across them. “You glow together.”
“We do.” Raine's voice was relaxed, warm, hand still stroking his hair. “Grey is scared, our Whit. Grey is scared to lose you, so he shows himself so slowly. He hides his hunger. He hides his need, so he won't scare you.”
Whit's hand slid up along his leg, pushing into his robe to stroke his stomach. “I think I'm missing something—I still don't understand.”
Raine sighed softly. “Grey. My Love. Talk to Whit.”
“Raine...”
“Do you want to tie me up, too and are afraid of my reaction? Or do you not want to tie me up and are afraid I'll feel left out, hurt?”
Grey opened his eyes, looked at Whit. “I want you to see. I want you to play. I want you and I don't want to hide. I don't want to lose you.”
Whit's eyes grew dark. “You won't lose me.”
“I love you.” He relaxed back into the comfort of Raine's arms. There was something laughable about the fact that they were discussing his tendency to dominate and he was resting, shattered and protected within his gentle brother's arms, needing to be loved.
“I love you, too, Grey.” Whit leaned forward, bringing their lips together in a soft kiss. “You and Raine, always.”
Raine's hand stroked Whit's hair as Grey watched Whit's beautiful eyes. “It will be fine, Grey. Now that there are no secrets. If we want to play, if we decide not to. It's us. Our decision. Our family. Sweet, dear Grey.”
Whit nodded. “I can't promise it's something I'll want to do. I won't know until ... I've tried it. I know I like the pictures—they turn me on, so I'm pretty sure I want to watch, if nothing else. But no matter what, Grey, I won't leave because of it. Not unless you make me go.”
“Never.” Grey shook his head, twining his fingers around Whit's, Raine's sliding atop. “One family.”
“Are you feeling better, Grey? Raine? Is everything okay?”
Grey nodded, slid down to rest his cheek against Raine's thighs. “Better.”
Ra
ine's fingers combed through his hair. “Yes, lovely Whit. Everything will be fine. Kiss me.”
Whit did, hand sliding along his face as Whit kissed Raine, long and slow. He turned his lips into Whit's palm, kissing softly, breathing in the sweetness of Whit's skin.
“Now, my loves, what do you need?” Whit sounded as if he would give it to them, no matter what they asked for.
“Come here. My turn.” Grey held open his arm, robe falling open with the motion, searching for his own taste of Whit's mouth. Whit bent, other hand going to Raine's face as he kissed Grey. He could taste Whit's love and his eagerness to be a part of them.
They kissed, sweet and easy and long, until he needed more. Then he felt Raine shift, his brother's hands easing Whit down into his arms, stretched against him. Then Raine pressed against his back, warm and fluid. Just what he needed then and Raine knew. Raine always knew. Whit's arms went around him, one sliding back to stroke Raine, the other warm and gentle along his own skin.
He wasn't even aroused, just basking. Floating and holding and being held and breathing in Whit's air, feeling Raine close behind him, listening to his lovers speak periodically—not trying to understand the words, just loving the sounds of ease and peace and sweet laughter.
Whit disappeared at one point, almost bringing him out of the place he'd slipped into, but then the sweet man was back, a blanket draping over them as Whit pushed back into his arms. He wrapped around Whit with a rumbling noise and heard Raine's soft laughter at his shoulder, hands stroking and soothing all his skin. Whit rubbed against him, skin soft, warm, smooth up top and hairier below the heat at Whit's middle.
He rubbed back, humming happily. He hadn't slept, but he felt rested, warm and relaxed. Then Grey heard Raine's whispered, “oh, our Grey's waking ... so sweet, so soft and lovely,” so maybe he had.
Then Raine's lips trailed over his jaw, Whit's over his forehead, and it didn't matter.
Fingers, Raine's longer, Whit's warmer, trailed over his skin, touching him along his back, sides, arms, chest, belly, hips, thighs. His cock was ignored, Whit and his twin teasing him.
He rumbled softly, lips finding Whit's shoulder, hand molding around Whit's fine ass. He kept his eyes closed, kept rubbing between them and on the rug and enjoying the safety and dream-like quality of the air. Whit whimpered, hips pressing close, hot cock sliding along his stomach, leaving a burning trail along in its wake.
Oh, he liked that ... the sound, the touch, the smell. He pressed against Whit, only to be distracted by the soft licks between his shoulder blades, his Raine's hum against his back. Whit's hands grasped his hips, encouraging him to match Whit's movements. As his lips covered Whit's, Raine picked up their rhythm, rubbing against his ass, leg sliding atop his. The motions started slow, but began to speed as hunger flared between them, making them rock together before the fire.
“Oh Grey!” Whit's voice was full of passion and need.
He groaned, almost growling against Whit's lips. “Love you.”
“Yes! Yes!” Whit called out and pushed harder against him.
Raine's sweet cry pierced the air seconds before heat hit his back, pushing his body over the edge. “Yes!”
Whit's heat spread across his belly. He drank the pleasure from Whit's lips, licking and shuddering as they rode their aftershocks.
“So good,” murmured Whit. “Love you so.”
“Yes. Love you.” He sighed into Whit's lips, smiling.
Whit smiled back, licking at his lips.
“So ... when do you want to tie me up?”
He blinked and laughed, rolling atop of Whit and kissing him hard. “I think we should tie Raine up together first.”
Raine chuckled. “But not tonight. Tonight we need soup and a bath and cuddling in the covers for Grey.”
Whit looked disappointed. “Not tonight?”
Raine's head peered over his shoulder. “Not tonight. Grey catches colds. And his head got wet.”
Grey grinned at Whit. “I'm fine, Raine.”
“Until tomorrow morning when there are sniffles and a sore throat.”
“Raine.”
“And then you start coughing and running fever.”
“Raine...”
Whit chuckled, hand reaching up to cover Raine's mouth. “Stop fussing. I don't want to do it if you don't want it, Raine.”
Grey chuckled as Raine gasped. “Fussing? Grey? Did you hear that? Whit said I was fussing!”
Grey leaned forward and kissed Whit, whispering. “Tomorrow. It's Saturday, the shops will be closed on Sunday so the marks will have faded by Monday.”
He made a mental note that they would have to play with Whit on Friday, because that milk white skin would show his marks beautifully.
“I'm hard just thinking of it,” Whit whispered back. “I keep seeing that look in his eyes, the one in the picture by your side of the bed.”
Grey and Raine shuddered as one, crying out together, Raine's face burying in his hair.
He reached back, twining his fingers with Raine's, feeling the promises that beat between them, inside them.
Whit's hands slid over his face, over Raine's face, eyes full of want and need and love. Their Whit.
“Love you.” Their twined hands reached out, wrapped around Whit's waist. “Our Whit.”
“Yes, loves. Yours.” Whit nuzzled against him. “Always.”
They nodded, together, hearts beating. “Yes. Always.”
* * * *
Raine was already up when Whit woke, Grey curled around him, holding him tight.
There was a tray of food on the bedside table, along with a tall, thin vase containing two red roses.
There was a note and he reached for it, smiling at Raine's fancy writing. “My loves, I am getting ready for you. Enjoy your breakfast. I love you, Raine.”
Anticipation was licking through him, excitement and nervousness making butterflies flutter in his belly. He was hard, too. Harder than just the usual morning wood. Turning back to Grey, he kissed his lover softly, and then again and again, each kiss longer, deeper. Grey purred into his kiss, lips soft and open, body so warm. Raine was right, there was something about just-awake Grey that was special.
“Can we make love?” he asked, rubbing against Grey, letting his lover know just how much he wanted.
“Mmm ... mmhmmm.” Grey rolled until he was atop that warm body, Grey's hips rolling against him, slow and easy.
“Oh good.” He kept moving, rubbing and stroking and kissing Grey. Grey's hands fell to his ass, pulling him closer, thighs parting and cradling him.
“Do you know what we're going to do yet?” he asked, a shudder running through him at Grey's touch.
“We're going to make love to him, make him fly.”
Grey's eyes opened, slowly, dark eyes sleepy and warm.
He chuckled, gazing down. “We always do that.”
“Yes.” Grey stretched, rubbing lazily. “Which one do you like best? The photos?”
He nodded, eyes going automatically to the photograph on the wall next to what he thought of as Grey's side of the bed. “The one where he's got come on his face, the rope crisscrossing his body, cock bound, hard and dripping. He should look shattered in that picture, but he doesn't, his eyes...” A shudder went through him. “He looks whole.”
Grey shivered and nodded. “Yes. My sweet Raine.” Grey rolled them again, looking down at him, hips rocking. “You will help me?”
He spread his legs, cradling Grey just like Grey had cradled him. “I'm not sure you need me, but yes, I will help you. I want to.”
“I need you.”
His lips were taken in a deep, hungry kiss, one hand sliding beneath his hips to pull him closer.
Oh. Oh, he could live with that. He wrapped his legs around Grey's back, pushing as close as he could, letting Grey set the rhythm, the speed and tempo between them. They rocked together, motions hard and quick, Grey's tongue pushing into his lips, hungry. He opened wide to Grey, mouth and
legs and heart.
It didn't take long, Grey's body driving him higher and higher, deep growls vibrating through him, before Grey jerked, stiffening against him. The heat that spread between them and the scent of Grey's pleasure combined, spurring his own orgasm and he came, his cry pushed into Grey's mouth.
Grey rocked gently for a few more moments and then relaxed against him, humming softly. “Morning.”
“Yes, it is.” He smiled up into Grey's dark eyes. “A good one, even.”
“Mm ... yes. Raine?”
He nodded, excitement returning. “How do you usually start?”
“Coffee.” Grey winked at him, eyes twinkling. “And a shower. Hate mornings.”
He laughed, leaning up to kiss Grey's smiling mouth.
Grey kissed him easily. “He's at the gym. We should get ready.”
He watched as Grey stood, grabbed a plum and headed for the bathroom, humming low and growly. He could smell the coffee Raine had left percolating and he followed Grey. They could shower together and then eat. Or just drink coffee—he was buzzing a little, butterflies of anticipation dancing in his stomach.
The water started, Grey relaxed and easy, slowly shaking that long hair out. “You okay, Whit? Nervous?”
He stepped in with Grey, hands automatically going to the long hair and helping Grey wet it down. “A little. Excited, too.”
“Yeah? Raine's going to be working out, steaming, meditating.” Grey's voice was a low purr, rumbling. “Getting clean inside and out.”
His breath caught in his throat. “Oh ... And you usually just shower and have coffee? What else?”
“I plan, get out the equipment, get the apartment ready.” Dark eyes smiled at him. “I get things ready for after, when we're tired and just wanting to relax.”
“Do you want me to wash your hair?” he asked, reaching for the shampoo when Grey nodded. “So what would you like me to do to help? Or am I supposed to just watch this time?”
“We should decide what we want, exactly. Then we'll plan. We've got to go buy food, too.” Grey knelt in the tub, giving him easier access.
He worked the shampoo into Grey's hair, loving the familiar motions. “So what do we want?”
“We don't like hitting. He loves to be bound, to be filled, to be brought to the edge over and over.” Grey shivered. “I love seeing him spread wide and needing.”
