by AJ Sherwood
Kyou gave up and kissed him harder, deeper. Brannigan sighed into it, settling a little. Kyou put his back to the edge of the sink and used it as leverage to tilt his hips up, a wanton invitation. Brannigan immediately pulled his leg farther up and around his waist, using it to press them in closer.
“Pants,” Brannigan whined at him between kisses.
“If you’d”—kiss—“just”—kiss—“let me”—kiss—“dammit, Bran!”
“Stop talking. Pants.”
Kyou gave up fumbling with the man’s front ties and just yanked the pants down and let them puddle on the floor. Brannigan seemed to think that was brilliant, as he promptly did the same to Kyou’s, then paused and looked Kyou over from head to toe. Kyou would have been a little shy under that intense scrutiny if he weren’t doing the same to Brannigan.
That…that was just unfair. Why the hell did Brannigan look like one of those Greek statues? Maybe working out routinely had benefits. And there was no way he compared to all of that muscle.
Brannigan clearly didn’t agree with that assessment. He had a ravenous expression on his face for a split second that froze. His hand came up, lightly touching the many scars on Kyou’s chest from all of his childhood surgeries. They were old, faded lines of white now but still visible. Kyou didn’t want him to ask or dwell on that right now. He slid a hand down, massaging Brannigan’s balls, and that jump-started the man like nothing else would.
Brannigan dove back in, sucking on that sensitive part of Kyou’s neck while his hand fell to one of Kyou’s nipples and tugged at it sharply. Kyou arched into the touch, a moan caught in the back of his throat. God, the man really did know what to do with his hands.
Kyou grasped the hot length of Brannigan’s dick in a firm grip. His hand stroked from base to tip, first exploring and getting the size of it down. Brannigan was perfectly proportioned, which meant that Kyou would have a lovely time getting fucked. Thank anything Kyou cared to name that Brannigan liked to top. May he be a dominant top, amen.
Brannigan liked the attention, clearly, but he pulled free enough to drop to his knees. He gave Kyou absolutely no warning before he sucked him into his mouth and slooowly eased his teeth across the head just to the ridge of the glans and back to the tip. It was incredibly erotic, bordering on the edge of painful, but caused Kyou’s dick to pulse in response.
Sparks of pleasure burst behind Kyou’s eyes. He found his hand in Brannigan’s hair with no memory of moving it there, loving every second of what his lover was doing. “Fucking shit, you’re a national treasure.”
Brannigan chuckled around him before repeating the motion.
Everything from that very talented mouth sent most of Kyou’s blood south. But there were still two brain cells in the back of his head functioning, and they rubbed together and got a thought out: Weren’t there supposed to be condoms and lube in the bathroom drawer?
Kyou’s hand fumbled one of the drawers open and he turned his head to look. Bingo. Two different sizes of condoms and a standard bottle of lube. Only in his imagination did the hallelujah chorus break out. “B-Bran—”
Brannigan pulled off with a pop. “What, caro?”
He pointed helpfully downwards. “Condoms and lube.”
Brannigan popped back up and the smile on his face was pure glee. “Thank fuck. Let’s get in the shower before I lose what’s left of my mind.”
Right. They were going to use the shower to cover sexy noises. Not to mention Kyou should probably have a shower before things continued much further. He stepped free of his clothes and went to the (thankfully wide) shower to start the water and get it heated. There was the snap of a condom as Brannigan slipped it on. He had no chance to turn around before Brannigan’s hands came around his waist.
Kyou loved the press of that masculine body against his back. He could feel how hard Brannigan was, how much he wanted him, and that was powerful, that feeling. Brannigan didn’t reach for him again to rile him up, though. He grabbed the detachable shower head and rinsed them both, then got the shower gel into play.
When Brannigan’s fingers slipped back in between his ass cheeks, Kyou let him stroke and play. Then he put both hands against the cool tile, tilting his hips up in clear invitation.
It was an invitation Brannigan was only too happy to take him up on.
Kyou took in the first finger with a sigh, the second with a whimper and a welcoming roll of the hips. He was tight, he could feel the resistance. It had been far too long since he’d had anything in there.
“Still good?”
“’s good,” Kyou sighed, eyes slipping closed for a second so he could concentrate on the feeling. “So good.”
A third finger, and that burned. Brannigan was using quite a bit of the lube, he could feel the slickness of it, and his fingers were still a little rough inside Kyou. He pressed back against them, wanting a fuller feeling and not getting it. Frustrated, he turned to look over his shoulder. “Now.”
Brannigan’s eyes were a little wild, breath coming fast. “You sure? I think I should stretch—”
“Take me,” Kyou demanded, breath harsh.
Whatever willpower Brannigan had left immediately, evaporating with the steam. He pressed in, the tip hard and blunt as it breached him. That momentary resistance, then Brannigan passed the ring of muscle and slid in. Kyou took him in, shuddering under it all, because that feeling was incredible. Why the hell had he been avoiding this man for six years? When they could have been doing this all that time.
Brannigan’s hands were back on his hips as he eased out an inch and then back in. All thought broke apart and spun free, and Kyou braced himself as his lover’s pace gradually picked up, then slammed into him. His body warmed under it all, and he found himself gasping against the tiles, grunting in time with the cock ramming against his prostate. It was too much—too much pleasure, too much heat, too much sensation. Sparks lit along his nerves, setting him on fire. Kyou needed relief, now. He needed it before he went mad.
A warm hand wrapped around him, stroking him, and that was better. That was more of what he needed to find relief. Kyou’s head tipped back, a garbled groan pouring out of his mouth. Almost. Almost, almost, almost—
Teeth set into the juncture of his neck and shoulder, biting down none too gently, and the pleasure and pain clashed perfectly. Kyou arched and came hard, a shout caught between his teeth.
Brannigan slammed into him, harder, faster, then hauled Kyou in tightly as his hips stilled. He panted against the bite mark, body shuddering as he came deep within Kyou’s body.
Kyou’s mind was gone. Synapses were not firing. Kyou.exe had stopped working. His knees wanted to give out, and he would have fallen to the floor if not for the hold Brannigan still had on him.
“Mmm,” Brannigan hummed against his skin, practically radiating satisfaction. “I knew we’d be good together. You could have warned me you were a sexy, sexy beast.”
Kyou tilted his head up so he could kiss the man’s jaw. “I think that’s you.”
They stayed cuddled like that for a few minutes. Eventually, it became too uncomfortable for Brannigan and he pulled free, tying off the condom and stepping out of the shower long enough to throw it away. He returned and reached for the shampoo this time.
Kyou could see how shower time needed to be a regular thing in their future. Kyou loved every second of this. He liked the hands in his hair, gently shampooing him, the way those strong hands washed his skin. He liked returning the favor and getting his hands all over Brannigan. It was intimate in its own way, different than the sex had been, but just as good. Sweeter. He felt somehow better connected to Brannigan. Which was strange. After six years and all that had passed between them, why did sex and showering together have that effect on him?
After a final rinse, Brannigan put his back to the wall and pulled Kyou into his arms. He came easily, putting his head on Brannigan’s chest and holding him loosely in return. Being pressed skin to skin like this was incredibly
lovely. Definitely more showers in the future.
“Are you ever going to tell me just how my father saved your life?”
“I wondered when you’d ask me that. And yes, it has something to do with the scars on my chest, as you’re so obviously wondering.” Not bothered, Kyou stayed as he was. “I told you that I was found on the doorstep of a fire station?”
“Yes.”
“I was born with five holes in my heart.”
Brannigan startled, his body flinching. “What?!”
“Oh, I’m fine,” Kyou assured him with a smile. “Thanks to your father. The state wouldn’t cover all of my hospital bills, and the charities for orphans never have enough money to see to all of the kids. Not really. Your father stepped in and directly paid for all of the many surgeries I needed. My condition was such that if I could just survive until adulthood, my body would be healthy. The trick was keeping me alive for eighteen years. It took sixteen surgeries, some of them minor, but by the time I was eighteen, I was healthy. My heart’s strong. But if not for your dad, I probably wouldn’t have made it. My medical bills were close to half a million.”
Brannigan touched the scars for a moment, brows pulled together. “But you’re alright now?”
“Perfectly fine.”
He mulled this over for several seconds. “Which is why you wanted to return the favor, somehow?”
“What better way than by protecting his children? I keep an eye on your sister, too, you know. It’s just that Isabella doesn’t find as much trouble as you do.”
“That’s not the only reason why you were so fixated on me.” Brannigan sounded quite sure of this.
Snorting, Kyou tilted his head up to look the man in the eyes. “Those are all of the secrets you’re getting out of me this morning.”
“Booo. Spoilsport.” Leaning down, Brannigan kissed him on the nose. “Water’s getting cold. Let’s get out, find breakfast.”
Kyou was loath to break the moment even though Brannigan was right. The water was starting to become distinctly cold. He kissed the man for a moment, lingering. “Sleep with me tonight?”
“Count on it,” Brannigan promised, smile just this side of lecherous.
Come to think of it, that had probably been a stupid question.
Brannigan insisted on fixing them both breakfast, and since Kyou’s version of cooking was putting something into a microwave, that was fine. He didn’t settle at the computer just yet, although habit almost sent him that direction. He knew very well what he was like in front of a computer, and this morning wasn’t right for it. Not yet, anyway.
He’d meant what he’d told Brannigan last night. Kyou was not a good romantic partner. He was easily distracted by work and often didn’t pick up cues. With the other people he’d dated, it hadn’t really mattered, as he wasn’t invested in them to begin with. It was more the frustration of failing at something that had eaten at him. And the worry of never being good at it.
With Brannigan, it was different. Everything was different because Kyou was very much invested and absolutely unwilling to ruin them. He wanted more than anything to be with Brannigan.
So he didn’t go sit in front of his computer when they went downstairs. Instead, he settled at the table and watched his lover crack eggs and toast bread with easy competence. “Where did you learn your cooking skills, anyway?”
“Hmm, sort of a combination of places. The dishes I have a strict recipe for come from my mother. She’s a by-the-book person. My father’s the type to cook by instinct. So depending on what I’m making, I’ve either got a recipe card in front of me or I’m just throwing things in.” Brannigan shot him a warm smile over his shoulder. “You cook?”
“Not at all. It’s either microwavable food or takeout.”
“Doesn’t that get old, after a while?”
“It does. But it’s a matter of time and skill. I don’t have either. Cooking wasn’t something that I ever learned how to do in any of the foster homes I was in. And I’m not interested enough to learn how.” Trying to tease, he tacked on, “Much better to have a sexy boyfriend to be my personal chef.”
“And it is my pleasure,” Brannigan purred with a wink.
A little worried about how the rest of the day would go, Kyou glanced uncertainly towards his computer. “What will you be doing after breakfast?”
“Well, if you’ll set me up on a secure line, I figured I could work from here. I’ll touch base with people, too, make sure that no one does anything crazy.”
So he planned to work too. Relieved, Kyou nodded. “Sure.”
12
Brannigan
Brannigan was very aware of Kyou’s nerves. He shared them, a little, but he wasn’t deterred either. Kyou was obviously out of his depth when it came to forming a strong relationship. He was just as obviously determined to try, judging by his behavior last night and this morning. Take breakfast as an example. Brannigan knew very well that his lover probably ate every meal in front of the computer unless he was pulled away, so having Kyou voluntarily sit at the table with him over breakfast was heartwarming.
Nerves and fears had kept Kyou from reaching out to him all this time. Brannigan finally got the answer to that last night. And there was some basis for it, yes; it did neither of them any good if Brannigan swept that aside and ignored it. But every bit of Kyou was worth fighting for. The sweet way he’d responded every time Brannigan put his hands on him assured him of that. Kyou wanted this. Brannigan wanted this.
And there was nothing that a Genovese could not have when they put their mind to it.
Part of making this work was respecting Kyou’s time. He’d clearly said he needed to focus this morning, so Brannigan let him focus. He took his laptop and phone up to his bedroom on the second floor and worked from there, answering emails and responding to phone calls. Many, many phone calls. Mostly from family, who couldn’t seem to contain themselves.
It turned eleven, and Brannigan set the laptop aside with the thought of going down and starting lunch. Maybe coaxing Kyou away from the computer for a half hour and making out on the couch.
So of course, that was when his sister called.
Resigned, Brannigan answered the phone with a sigh. “Hello, Izzy.”
Isabella was clearly out, there was the overtone of wind in her words, but she was still audible. “Bran. What’s this I hear from Papà about you finally meeting K?”
“I take it he didn’t tell you everything.”
“I got some garbled account of you meeting K, the Irish Mob after you, and you being in a safe house somewhere in the city. It sounded like a bad spy movie and you were the damsel in distress for some reason. I’m not sure if he’s drunk or if I need to be.”
Snorting a laugh, Brannigan offered, “I can give you a five-minute head start if you want to find a bar.”
“Oh God. In other words, I need to be. Bran, what the hell did you do this time?”
He’d protest, but Brannigan didn’t know if he had a leg to stand on. “Well, you know the new development project I’m doing over in Roxbury?”
Isabella was many things, but slow on the uptake wasn’t one of them. A real estate developer herself, she had her finger squarely on Boston’s pulse, and she knew quite a bit of his business, as they talked openly about their projects with each other. “The neighborhood that’s basically Mob owned? That we tried to tell you was a bad idea? Yes, I’m well aware of it. What happened?”
“They got a little irate when I refused to back down. Then they tried to rough up some of my employees. K’s family—”
“Hold it. K has family?”
“Family of choice, yes. His family of choice includes an assassin, a thief, a mercenary, and a hacker in training. Oh, and a doctor who’s married to the thief.”
There was an audible hiccup as Isabella paused to visualize this. “So, in other words, he has a fully developed RPG party and can take out Mob bosses.”
“Pretty much. Which, um, they sort of did. W
hen the O’Conner family came to scare off my construction crew, K’s family took them out. It riled up the O’Conners so much they put a hit out on me. My corpse is worth a cool million right now.”
Isabella whistled low. “Well shit, baby brother, that is not good. So, safe house?”
“Safe house. K’s safe house. He came and got me himself.”
“God, I can hear the smugness from here. Are you not even worried about being assassinated?” There was real fear in Isabella’s voice.
Brannigan addressed the emotion first, as a wise man always did that. “I know you’re probably alarmed right now. It’s alright, truly. K informs me this isn’t the first time a hit has been put on me.”
Something slammed hard into a solid object and Isabella gasped, more in shock than pain.
“Izzy? You okay?”
“I nearly just tripped over thin air, no I’m not okay. What the hell do you mean this isn’t the first time?!”
“It was news to me, too. K’s taken care of it every other time. Before I was even aware there was an issue. I’m really in great hands, I promise you.”
“Is that why Papà is so relaxed about this? I mean, he’s worried, but he’s not up in arms, either. I couldn’t figure out why.”
“Yeah. That’s why. He figures K can handle this better than anyone else. And he’s already proven to be effective at it. I’m confident in that myself.” Brannigan wet his lips and tacked on, “Especially since the situation changed. Right now, my personal safety is very much a priority to K.”
“There’s that smugness again. Bran. Tell me something. How cute is K?”
“Any cuter, he’d be illegal in several states.”
“And have you kissed him?”
“I’ve done a hell of a lot more than kiss him.” Even Brannigan could hear his smugness.
Isabella laughed, a dirty, naughty sound. “Oh do tell. And I do mean every detail.”
“How about later, when we can share this over a good wine?”
“I’m game for that. So are you two dating? Or just enjoying each other?”
