Braided

by Michael, Sean

  "I am not!" Paul pulled away from his hold, promptly tripping over the coffee table and landing on a pile on the floor.

  Peter gave a short, sharp, frustrated scream, hands flying into the air.

  Bowie growled. "Enough." Bowie went and picked up Paul. "Get me my ropes, Peter. Before he kills himself."

  He blinked at Bowie, but went. Ropes? Paul was hurt.

  Weird.

  Keeping secrets.

  This whole thing was screwy.

  By the time he had the ropes, Bowie had Paul in bed and was stroking him, speaking softly to him.

  "Ah, good, Peter. Bring me the ropes, I'll bind him gently so he can't hurt himself." He got a reassuring smile from his lover. "He's stoned on the pain killers. We'll keep him quiet and still until morning."

  "O...o...oh. Qu...quiet? O...our Paul?" He gave Bowie a grin, a wink.

  Bowie chuckled, hand sliding along his side for a moment. "He'll be struck speechless by how beautiful you and I look making love."

  "Oh." He pushed into Bowie's arms, shivering, needing.

  Bowie gave him a long, hard kiss. "Let me tie him up so he can watch in peace and I will love the worries from you."

  Peter nodded, although he wasn't sure that was possible. He had a lot of worries.

  It didn't take Bowie long to bind Paul, nothing fancy, just holding him still, safe.

  Bowie lingered to give Paul a kiss, lips brushing his twin's. "You're home now, Paul. Just float and watch, sleep if you can."

  "Mmm... 'kay. Kay, Bowie. Love you." Paul gave Bowie a silly smile, eyes already unfocused.

  Bowie kissed Paul again and then turned to him, opening those strong arms to him. He pushed into Bowie's arms with a worried moan, dragging his eyes away from Paul and the cut above the bruised eye.

  "We'll take care of him tomorrow, Peter. For tonight the most we can do for him is show him what home is, hmmm?"

  "H...he c...came home." Peter pressed closer, shivering. "M...make it b...better, B...bowie? B...been a w...weird night."

  Bowie purred and pulled him down, licking at his lips, hands pulling away his clothes. He pressed closer, hands moving to push through Bowie's hair. His lover was tense, worried; he could feel it in the strong muscles, see it in the bright eyes. He rubbed and stroked, trying to give as much as he was given.

  Bowie rolled onto his back, pulling him on top of the solid body, hands sliding down to grab his ass and rub them together. He took one kiss, then another, pushing against Bowie's hands, wanting more. He received kisses and moans in return, those hands working his ass and his back, massaging and arousing together.

  Every so often they would look over to Paul, who was already sleeping, face turned like he was watching them. Bowie's body undulated beneath his, rubbing, sliding, building the arousal slowly, making him need.

  "Oh. Oh. B...bowie. L...l...love you." He hummed, moving faster.

  "Yes, my pretty Pet, yes. I love you, too." Bowie licked his lips, fingers sliding to his crack, teasing him.

  He smiled against Bowie's mouth, moving slowly, rocking. Enjoying the touches. One of Bowie's fingers slid over his nipple ring. He pushed into the touch, offering. Begging.

  "How can I pleasure you tonight, Peter? I want to send you flying. I want to soar with you."

  "R...ride you. W...want to f...feel you tomorrow." Want to feel you tomorrow when we deal with Paul.

  Bowie moaned for him, fingers pushing at his hole. "Yes."

  "Y...yes. Yes. B...bowie." He spread, hips jerking, pushing towards the touch.

  Bowie's fingers disappeared, only to push at his lips. "Slick them up for me, pretty Pet."

  He hummed, mouth opening, sucking those fingers in deep, pulling hard. He could feel it in his balls, a dull, deep ache.

  "Sexy man," murmured Bowie, fingers sliding from his mouth and pushing behind his balls, sliding wetly over his skin.

  "Y...yours." He leaned back, thighs spread wide. "Please."

  Two fingers pushed inside him, Bowie wasting no time now, stretching him. He nodded, moving faster, harder, toes curling.

  "So beautiful, pretty Pet, dancing on my fingers." Bowie pushed in hard and deep, the tips of his fingers brushing Peter's gland. He jerked, body arching with the pleasure, hard cock slapping against his belly.

  Bowie purred, fingers pulling out suddenly, large hands hard on his hips. "Now, Peter."

  "Y...yes." He moved, straddled Bowie's cock and took the hard flesh deep. In no time, he started riding, head thrown back, uninhibited.

  Bowie's purrs turned to growls, the hands on his hips tightening, helping bring him down hard, even as Bowie's thigh muscles bunched under his ass, thrusting up into him.

  Peter felt so sensual, so sexy, like he was special and beautiful and... "B...bowie..."

  "Love you, pretty Pet." Bowie pushed up harder, fingers digging into his skin. Bowie's green eyes were intent on him, watching closely, full of love.

  "Love." He pushed down hard, ass rocking as Bowie's cock nudged his gland. "Oh!"

  "Ah, there we go." Bowie shifted slightly and started pegging it with every thrust.

  "Yes." He nodded, fighting to catch his breath, time stopping.

  Bowie just kept thrusting, kept pulling him down, watching him, loving him, filling him. It took forever. Seconds. Hours. Heartbeats. Then he was coming, body clenching tight around Bowie's cock. Bowie roared, pushing up hard into him and filling him with heat. The hand on his cock slowed, moving slickly up and down his skin, making him shake with aftershocks.

  He slumped forward, eyes heavy, snuggling into Bowie. Bowie moaned for him, one hand sliding along his back, the other grabbing the covers and pulling them up over him and Paul. "There we are, my Pretties. All together and ready to sleep, yes?"

  He nodded, exhausted, worn. "D...don't forget. N...nine a.m."

  "Don't you worry about that, Peter. Don't you worry about anything." Bowie kissed his head. "That's my job."

  He met Bowie's eyes. "Y...you h...have a...a lot to worry a...about."

  "Oh, pretty Pet, it is a joy to worry over you and Paul."

  "H...he's going t...to be o...okay? Y...you'll h...help him?"

  "He's going to be just fine, Peter. We'll all go see Doc tomorrow and he'll make sure everything's checked out and taken care of. And then we'll get to the bottom of this injury he got earlier and we'll discuss keeping secrets and I'll spank him until he comes and we'll all be just fine, Peter."

  "Oh. O...okay." He settled in, curling into Bowie's arms. He trusted Bowie -- Bowie had understood him from the first, but was learning Paul, learning the things Paul needed.

  "We're fine, my pretty Pet. As fine as the skin of your cock."

  He chuckled, blushed, then let himself relax, sleep.

  Rest.

  ***

  Bowie had his boys at the doctor promptly at nine a.m., Paul's eye a technicolor mess -- no doubt looking far worse than it actually was. He'd called in to Mal and let him know the boys would be opening shop up late. His own duties weren't tied to a time -- there were plenty of able bodies to open the massage room and take care of things if he didn't get in until later -- but Peter wouldn't be any good for work while he was worrying over Paul.

  Doc called them in and was ready to begin the tests right away.

  Paul was upset, snappish, scared and sore, and climbed unwillingly onto the table, letting the Doc start poking and prodding. He stayed close, petting Paul's head, encouraging his Pet's cooperation.

  Ghost quietly brought over the machines to x-ray Paul's wrist and to ultrasound his side.

  "I want to go home, Bowie." Paul's eyes were dark, unhappy, worried.

  Peter fluttered, anxious. "S...s...soon."

  "As soon as Doc has you fixed up, Pretty." He tried not to frown, but Paul was acting...well, Peter had called it right: weird.

  "This wrist is broken," Doc confirmed. "I'll knit it back together. You won't be able to use it for a day or so and it'll be sore for a few more. And th
ere's not much I can do for your kidney. It's been bruised and will heal on its own, despite the prior injury. You have to have that kind of thing looked at by a professional, Paul. It could have killed you or it could have healed worse than it did." Doc shook his head.

  Bowie nodded. "I will impress that upon him."

  "When can I go back to work?"

  "You can go today, but I don't want you using the wrist and you have to be careful of your side."

  "You can keep your brother company," Bowie told Paul. "After we've talked."

  "Talked?" Paul winced as the doctor ran the bone mender over the swollen wrist, then wrapped a soft brace around it.

  "Yes. Talked." He didn't say more. It wasn't any business of Doc and Ghost's. It was between the three of them. He would get to the bottom of Paul's strange behavior.

  He would not lose this one again.

  Doc was finished fairly quickly and Paul got dressed, Peter helping with buttons.

  "Thank you, Doc." Bowie shook the man's hand. "I owe you and your boy a massage." He gave Doc a wink and took his boys home.

  Paul and Peter were quiet, cuddled together, Paul holding Peter close.

  As soon as they were home he put the boys on the couch and knelt on the floor in the middle of the sitting room. "All right, Paul. What's going on?"

  "What do you mean? I got in a fight." Paul leaned into Peter, cuddling.

  "And saved Peep from a worse beating than you took, yes. You aren't in trouble. You're home, and your injuries aren't terribly serious, but you've withdrawn and act like we're about to toss you out on your ear, and I want to know what's going on in your head."

  "You wouldn't toss me out. This is my place, too." Paul looked to Peter, hands twining and holding tight. "I'm not going anywhere."

  "Of course I'm not going to toss you out, but you're acting like I'm going to. Something's up, Paul. We can both see that. I'm not a mind reader and last time I tried, that ended in disaster." He leaned forward and took Paul's cheeks in his hands, kissing softly. "Talk to me, pretty Pet."

  "I... It's hard, Bowie. Hard. Things were bad when I was gone, but I made it. I wanted to come home and I did."

  "I know. And things are going well, aren't they?" He petted Paul, treating him almost as he would Peter.

  Paul nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, Bowie. Things are good."

  Peter's hands moved to slowly rub Paul's back, the touch gentle, sweet. So strong, learning so fast, their Peter.

  "Then you should trust me and tell me what's wrong. Is it about when you were hurt before?"

  Paul nodded. "I don't want to talk about it, Bowie. It's over. I was hurt. I'm better. You'd never have known."

  "And you're upset now because I do know?" He still wasn't sure why Paul was upset about this. Was Paul worried he'd be angry? Worried that he wouldn't be? How was he supposed to react? Aside from wanting to go out and beat the men who touched his pretty Pet, he wasn't sure what his reaction was.

  "No. No. I was just scared. Scared that it was going to happen again. Scared it was going to hurt again like before. Scared it was going to be bad." Paul shook his head, gave him a half-grin. "I was just being a dork."

  He growled. "I'll say you were. If you'd been up front in the first place, we'd have known why you were worried." He glared at Paul. "And you might be bigger than Peep, but you're hardly anyone's bodyguard. If I'd been with you this wouldn't have happened -- there's power in numbers. I won't lose you, Paul. Especially for no reason."

  Paul nodded. "We weren't looking for trouble. Peep needed a birthday present for Mouse."

  "I know, but it was late and the streets aren't safe during daylight, let alone the middle of the night. You should have at least taken someone... tall with you."

  He sighed and pulled Paul into his arms. "You've been very bad, Paul. I think Peter should suck you off in punishment."

  Paul chuckled, shook his head, gave Bowie a one-armed hug and a soft kiss. "I haven't been bad, just silly."

  "Is that what you're going to say when you're well and the punishment is a spanking?" he asked with a wink.

  Paul grinned and nodded. "Yep. I've given up being bad. I'm taking a page from Peter's book."

  Peter chuckled, still touching, still petting.

  He pouted. "Damn -- I'm going to lose my arm without you to spank."

  Paul kissed his cheek and his pout and then pulled back, stretching tall. "We'll find you a naughty little bottom, Bowie."

  He gasped and then laughed, pinching Paul's ass. "I'm rather fond of the one I've got already!"

  "This one's got to go to work." Paul gave him a grin and a wiggle. "I have to tattoo Staple today."

  He raised an eyebrow. "Again?"

  Paul nodded, but Peter frowned. "N...n...no."

  "Yes, I do."

  "N...n...no."

  Paul rolled his eyes. "Yes."

  Bowie put his hand briefly over Paul's mouth. "Why no, Peter?"

  "B...b...b...bec...cause t...the d...d...d...doctor said h...he couldn't u...u...use h...h...h...his h...h...hand a...a...a...and be...because I d...d...d...d...don't b...b...b...b...believe him!"

  Paul turned to Peter, eyes wide and hurt. "Are you calling me a liar?"

  Peter nodded. "Y...y...y...you left and k...k...k...k...k..."

  "I came back, Petey. I said sorry."

  "He wasn't finished, Paul. Continue, Peter."

  He stroked both their backs, trying to calm them.

  "H...h...he's k...k...k...k...keeping s...s...s...s...secrets!"

  "I am not!"

  "Th...then tell!" Peter was red-faced, angry.

  "Tell what? I got fucked and beat up bad and hurt and torn up and my friends found me and cleaned me up and I was real stoned and real sore and I'm fine now. Fine!"

  Bowie sighed, stroking Paul's cheek sadly. "I wish you'd let us be there for you then. We were so worried. And with good reason, it seems."

  "I couldn't. I couldn't find my way here and Hercules doesn't let users work here. I'd have had to leave." Paul shook his head. "I waited until I was all clean."

  He took Paul's hand. "Promise me you will never run away again. Promise me and Peter you won't cut us out."

  "I already did. I already did say. I'm sorry I left. I hurt and hurt. I bled. I'm home. I'm fine. Stop."

  "You started this all up again though, by keeping things from us. Peter was right enough about that." He shook his head. "Enough now though. Peter, pretty Pet, do you still believe he's lying or can we let it lie, make each other feel good and loved?"

  Peter sighed, shrugged. "L...l...let it a...alone."

  Paul nodded and leaned down to kiss Peter. "Good. Love you."

  Peter hugged Paul's neck and nodded. "Y...yeah."

  He nodded. "Good. Good." He gathered them both close, bringing their mouths altogether. They cuddled into him, both needing him, needing his strength. He slid his fingers along their spines, kissing them until they were all breathless.

  "Shall I take you both in my mouth?" he asked, hands moving to cup their balls, slide over their cocks. "Taste you together?"

  "Oh..." Peter's eyes were wide, surprised, Paul's closed.

  "I think we can manage it without causing Paul any further hurt, yes, pretty Pet?"

  Peter nodded, then tilted his head. "B...bath. L...let's f...f...float in the b...bath. F...f...feels good."

  "Excellent idea." He nodded and stood, holding his hands out to them. They came to him, his dark-eyed beauties, his boys. He purred, leading them to the bathroom, bypassing the shower in favor of the huge tub. "Oil or bubbles, my Pretties?" He turned on the water on to fill the tub.

  "Oil."

  "B...b...b...bubbles."

  The sweet laughter kissed the air. So different.

  "Maybe the oil? The bubbles will hide your sweet cocks and then how will I find them to suck?"

  Paul found some minty oil and handed it to Bowie. "We'll smell like candy."

  "That will definitely encourage me to eat you both up."
Grinning, he poured some into the water, the scent filling the room immediately.

  Peter helped Paul undress, then they slid into the water, Paul moaning, the lines of pain in the thin face dissolving. They were lovely together, so similar and yet so different. A challenge. One that would keep him interested for the rest of his days, he was sure.