Braided

by Michael, Sean

  He and Paul nodded together. The three of them slept well together, all piled up and warm and close.

  "Wonderful -- that's settled, then, and I'll have my stuff sent here. Do either or you have any questions or concerns? Or rules of your own you'd like to see implemented?"

  Paul tilted his head. "We decorate each other, a lot, which can get messy and well, scary. And...can I have a guarantee of my morning shower with Peter?"

  Peter grinned. Shower. Right. Paul wanted morning orgasms. Still, showers were nice and Paul was so sweet in the mornings....

  "I don't mind the decorating, though sometimes I will ask for something specific or for you to change something. As for the showers...." Bowie's eyes narrowed as he looked at Paul. "Morning showers yes, morning blow jobs -- no, no guarantee on those."

  "Damn." Paul grinned over, mischief written all over his twin's face. "It was worth a try."

  Bowie chuckled. "That cheekiness will try us both, Paul."

  Bowie stood. "Now. How about we all shower together, complete with blowjobs and then the two of you can do something about the scariness. I would very much like to see you as you are naturally -- but I am not making it an order."

  "F...f...for you."

  Paul nodded. "But we won't leave the rooms that way."

  Peter nodded. They weren't ready.

  "That is acceptable. You can work on it while I'm working and then recolor or whatever tomorrow morning."

  Bowie held out his hands to them. "Come with me, my pretty Pets. I want to love you before I leave you for the day."

  They stood, pushing into those warm arms, cuddling in for kisses.

  This was the easy part.

  Chapter Four

  They were ugly.

  Oh, gods and fishes, they were so plain.

  They'd gotten the skin tone right pretty quickly -- the palest gold, matched from his tattoos -- but the hair had taken all damned day to find the dark brown with a touch of cherry-red deep inside.

  Paul'd cut a good five inches off Peter's hair and shortened his own to shoulder-length -- maybe he'd shave it off tomorrow. They didn't have on any color, any makeup, anything pretty.

  Well, except for Peter's nipple rings. They'd pierced the other one while waiting for something or other earlier.

  Peter was curled up on the settee, flipping through the vidfeed, wrapped in a white gauzy gowny thing. He was in his robe, ordering roast, waiting for Bowie.

  Waiting for Bowie to come home and see them.

  The door opened softly, Bowie letting himself in. "Oh. Oh, my beautiful boys. Look at you."

  Peter ducked his head, blushing, and he sighed, shook his head. "We're ugly ducklings, Bowie. No decoration at all."

  "Oh, the decoration is pretty, but your skin is fantastic and your hair color... thank you for sharing yourselves with me, my pretty Pets." Bowie just beamed at them.

  Peter chuckled -- really chuckled and wasn't it a sexy sound -- and stood, heading to welcome Bowie. It looked like he floated over the floor, hair and gown swirling.

  Bowie opened his arms to Peter, purring and taking a kiss. "Don't I get a kiss from you, too, Paul?"

  He nodded and headed over, offering Bowie a long kiss that was so sweet, so warm he forgot about being ugly, forgot about breathing, just felt.

  Bowie held them in his arms and smiled at them. "I find you perfectly lovely as you are. Both of you. Now what shall we do tonight, hmm?"

  "I ordered roast." He twined his fingers with Peter's. "And a chocolate cake."

  Peter grinned. "I...i...ice cream?"

  "Yeah."

  Peter reached up and stroked Bowie's hair. "G...g...g...g..."

  "Did you have a good day at work? Getting used to it?" Paul asked.

  "Yes, I did, but it was long -- I wanted to be here with you. What were you going to say, Peter?"

  Paul took a deep breath, biting back his sigh. He knew what Peter wanted to know, damn it.

  "G...g...good for y...y...you? You l...l...like it?"

  "You changed on purpose,” he accused.

  Peter frowned at him, head shaking.

  Bowie, slid a hand gently over his cheek, one finger across his lips. "You have to be more patient, Paul. I know it's hard for you, but Peter deserves to be heard." Then Bowie turned to Peter and smiled. "I can take or leave roast, but cake and ice cream are not to be turned down."

  Peter grinned wide, nodding before leaning up to kiss him, asking forgiveness, which Paul gave easily, tongue sliding into Peter's mouth.

  "Will it be here soon? Or do I have time to watch you suck Peter off?"

  Peter's eyes went wide, a soft moan vibrating between them. Usually, when Paul gave Peter a blowjob it was to drive him crazy, bring him higher and higher and not let him come. It just wasn't something they did regularly, so Paul explained that to Bowie.

  "I didn't ask if it was something you usually did, I asked if we had time for you to do it. I've seen him suck you off, now I want to see you suck him off."

  "We have time." He gave Bowie a frown. Hells, he was just trying to share something with the man, not weasel out of it. He wasn't a complete fucking bastard. He loved Peter.

  Bowie's fingers slid across his forehead, smoothing his frown away. "Relax, Paul. You might just enjoy it, hmm?"

  "I do enjoy it. You don't understand. I was just telling you about us. Just telling you."

  He started to tighten up, then Peter nuzzled his jaw. "Sh...sh...sharing, B...b...b...b...bowie."

  He smiled into Peter's eyes and nodded. "Yeah. Where do you want us?"

  Bowie gave him a light kiss. "I'm sorry if I assigned false motives to you, Paul. I will sit over here on this...cushion? The two of you can use the couch."

  He nodded and led Peter across the room, tickling and teasing and groping as they went, making Peter squeak and giggle. They landed on the couch in a tangle, Peter's eyes dancing, lips clinging to his.

  Bowie settled on the cushions, eyes on them both, like a caress. "You should both be naked. So pretty."

  "Off with your dress, Petey. You can waggle your butt at Bowie." He winked, shrugging off his robe.

  "B...bitch." Peter started unbuttoning, grinning wide.

  "Slut."

  "Uh-uh."

  He giggled and pounced as soon as Peter was naked, kissing hard. "Are too."

  Bowie's chuckles were warm, reminding them he was there, watching them.

  Paul licked down Peter's body, lingering at the places he knew made Peter twist, made his twin arch, his hand working that stiff cock with firm strokes as he worked his way down. He was careful to avoid the newly pierced nipple, only breathing over it, making Peter cry out, tangle fingers in his hair.

  There was a soft gasp from Bowie. "Oh. How sensitive is it?"

  "He can come from playing with them." He breathed out again, drawing out another cry, another tightening of those fingers. "The best part will be tomorrow, when he's working and I can make him crazy."

  "If I let you," Bowie murmured, giving him a wicked smile.

  He stuck his tongue out, hiding the motion by licking Peter's nipple, then scooting down to touch his tongue stud to the barbell in Peter's cock.

  "A matched set," murmured Bowie. "Exquisite."

  Peter was leaking, close already; his hands had driven the heat up and up. He took Peter's shaft in deep, fingers moving to push into Peter's body, spreading the tight hole as he swallowed. It didn't take much before Peter arched, filled his mouth with seed, squeezed his fingers tight. So pretty, so hot, his sweet lover.

  Paul pushed up, taking Peter's mouth, cock desperate to push inside that tight heat.

  There was a soft cry from Bowie, the scent of Bowie's come unfamiliar but strong in the room.

  "Beautiful, thank you," murmured Bowie. "Come here, Paul -- I want to taste him in your mouth."

  He whimpered softly, but pushed away from Peter and stumbled over into Bowie's arms, lips open.

  Bowie kissed him deeply, tongue sweep
ing into his mouth. He could feel Bowie's hands at his cock and when the kiss ended he found his erection bound in leather, balls tucked up tight against his cock.

  He whimpered softly, hips still moving towards Bowie's touch. "No fair. I did what you asked..."

  "Yes and after we have eaten you will be rewarded for your patience, Paul." He was given another kiss just as a soft knock came at the door.

  Peter stood and stretched, padding over to the door. "L...l...l...leave it."

  He moaned, snuggling close. After they ate? Oh, he hoped no one was hungry.

  Bowie gave him a soft smile, stroking his back and his cock. "Come on, Paul, I'm starving."

  Peter had headed back over to the sofa, sliding his clothes back on, hair mussed and cheeks flushed.

  "Your twin is absolutely beautiful. Look at him glow."

  He smiled, tilting his head. Seeing Peter look plain reminded him of those hard, scary first days before they made themselves plumage. "He'd be prettier with blue hair."

  Bowie chuckled and goosed him.

  "Ow!" He wiggled and grinned, then tackled Peter, knocking his twin to the floor, kissing hard. "Look what he did to me, Petey? My poor cock. It'll turn purple and fall off!"

  "Think of how pretty it will be while it's purple before it falls off," Bowie called.

  Peter laughed, pushing him off onto the floor before moving down to inspect his cock thoroughly. "'S f...f...fine. N...n...no purple."

  "Come on boys, the sooner we eat the sooner Paul can stop worrying about his poor prick."

  Oh, oh, heavens. Bowie could stay if all he ever did was make Peter laugh like that. Peter helped him up and into his robe, then went to go set the table, humming. Bowie picked up the food from the hall and brought it to the table, the three of them working companionably together.

  "Wh...wh...wh..." Peter was standing by the cooler, juice in hand.

  "What do you want to drink, Bowie?" He nodded as Peter smiled.

  Bowie raised an eyebrow at him, but didn't say anything about him asking for Peter. "The juice will be fine. So this is your roast, is it?"

  "It is. I love it. My family when I was growing up? We had it all the time." He took two of the glasses from Peter. "Milk for me, please."

  Peter nodded, leaning in to search.

  Bowie nodded, watching Peter's ass. "You aren't the only one with a hard cock, Paul."

  He arched an eyebrow, completely confused. "Huh?"

  Bowie chuckled and gave him a quick kiss. "You and your brother turn me on, Paul. You make me want like I've never wanted before."

  "Oh!" He grinned, cuddling in close, almost spilling his juice.

  "Mmm." Bowie petted him and then settled him in a chair. Peter was also treated to a kiss and seated at the table and Bowie dished up for them.

  Peter blinked at the amount of meat Bowie gave him, just like he blinked at the potatoes and carrots and greens. They looked at each other and quickly rearranged, leaving him with all but one bite of meat and Peter with all the greens and carrots.

  "Paul. The vegetables are good for you." Implacably, Bowie put several greens and carrots on his plate and gave Peter another bite of meat.

  "Vegetables are nasty, though. Especially green ones."

  Peter rolled his eyes, picking around the meat and eating the nasties. God, just because the man hadn't grown up with meat, didn't mean he had to be so...smug.

  "Do you take nutrient shots, Paul? If you don't, you'll have to eat more of them." Bowie gave him a grin, the man eating meat and vegetables and potatoes with gusto.

  "Shots?"

  He blinked. Oh. Oh, no. No shots. Not for...

  Peter was laughing, he could tell.

  "If you don't eat a balanced, nutritious diet, you need to supplement. Surely you know that? The easiest way is through nutrition shots. One a month. Although from what I understand they're developing a longer-acting one."

  "Once a month's not bad..." He tilted his head. "One shot and I never ever have to eat the nasty food for a month?"

  "One shot and you only have to have a bite every time it's served."

  Oh, that was no fair. "Damn. Still, one bite..."

  "The shot and one bite or there will be vegetables on your plate two meals a day."

  "Okay. Okay." He wrinkled his nose, nudging Peter's arm. "See? I'm getting out of the nasty greenies."

  Peter shrugged and stole another bite of greens, leaving most of the meat still on his plate.

  "And you, Peter, will need to eat more meat than that two meals a day or you will also have to take shots. Although it won't always be roast -- there are numerous sources of protein."

  Peter nodded. "D...d...don't care for it. B...b...b...but I'll eat s...s...some."

  "Wonderful! And you might not like roast, but there's chicken and fish and lobster." Bowie grinned. "That's my favorite."

  "L...l...l..." Peter sighed and nudged him.

  "What's lobster? Is it good?"

  Bowie tsked, and leaned over to stroke Peter's cheek. "I don't mind waiting, remember? Lobster is a type of fish. With a shell. Very yummy. They usually serve it with garlic butter. Mmmm."

  Peter made a pleased sound and Paul tilted his head. "Can we try it? Peter likes garlicky stuff and I like fish. There's a place down in St. Jude where you can buy the weirdest fishes all crisped up, remember it?"

  Peter nodded. They hadn't spent long in the slums, but that was one of the good parts.

  "I will definitely put it on the menu. At least once a week and if you both like it we'll have it more often."

  Bowie sighed contently and pushed away his plate. "How's your cock, Paul? Fallen off yet?"

  He blinked over, surprised. He'd been so busy relaxing and talking and such, he'd forgotten about the bonds. "No. Not yet."

  "Good. We'll risk the cake and ice-cream then." Bowie winked at him and gathered their plates together.

  Peter bounced up and brought the cake over, then the ice cream, putting the cake nearest to him. Then took the dishes from Bowie. "M...m...my turn."

  Bowie looked like he was going to argue, but Paul shook his head, putting one finger over his lips. No. No, Bowie wanted to see this.

  Hear this.

  Whatever.

  It didn't take long before the singing started -- low and soft and easy, lovely. "He doesn't know I can hear. He sings while the water runs."

  "Mm...thank you, Paul." Bowie took his hand and closed his eyes, head tilted slightly to pick up the sounds.

  It didn't go on long, but it...it made him proud. He'd saved that from being lost. He had. Just him. He squeezed Bowie's hand as the words faded and he started cutting the cake.

  Bowie dished out ice cream onto each piece of cake and soon they were eating the sweet. Bowie seemed mellow and relaxed, watching them with those green eyes that you just knew didn't miss a thing.

  His cake was gone almost immediately. Peter? Took forever, each bite having to be the perfect amount of icing and cake and cream.

  It was boring.

  He stole a few bites off Peter, helping to move them along.

  Bowie chuckled. "There's more cake, Paul, if you want another piece."

  "No, it's okay. I'm just helping Mr. Picky with his before it's tomorrow."

  "Mr. Picky? Says the man who won't eat vegetables." Bowie grinned at him, sitting back and working slowly -- very very slowly -- on his own cake.

  He'd finished Peter's cake -- well, he left Peter a bite of ice cream -- and then he started wiggling, hyped on sugar and bored.

  Soft sounds came from Bowie as he oh so slowly ate. The man was laughing at him! A look at the green eyes confirmed they were dancing and twinkling at him.

  "So? Tell us about you? Where are you from? Why are you here? Where did you learn to massage? Were you always dommy?"

  Bowie chuckled and pushed his cake toward Peter. "Was I always dommy? Why yes, I was, Paul. I'm from Old Terra, believe it or not, and I learned to massage from my mother -- now there was some
one who was dommy. She makes me look like a roll-over pussycat sub."

  "Wow." He took a minute and then nudged Peter gently. "Come on, Petey. We're all waiting on you. I grew up in St. Therese. People talked about Old Terra a lot. Do you miss it?"