Fearless

by R. G. Alexander

  He heard his brother take a bracing breath. “I am. I regret not being brave enough to tell Sol years ago. I was trying to give him what he wanted so he’d stop being such a miserable bastard. In the end my silence didn’t do a damn thing but hurt the people I care about. Hurt you.”

  The door slid open and David joined him, kneeling beside the chair and slipping his arms around him. Rory clung with the hand that wasn’t clutching the phone like a lifeline to his ear. “Come to dinner tonight, Younger. We can keep talking if you want.”

  Solomon took a moment to pull himself together. “I do. I’ll be there. And Rory?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I love you.”

  “Me too,” he choked before hanging up and burying his face in David’s neck.

  “I take it Solomon is coming for dinner?”

  Rory nodded, opening his mouth to suck on his throat because he couldn’t get enough of David’s taste.

  “Mmm, that’s nice.” David’s hands slid under his shirt. “Rig sent Essie and Janice away with most of our breakfast. So we have some privacy.”

  Rory nibbled at his jawline. “I’m sorry we didn’t have more of a chance to visit. Especially now that I know she and my uncle are puppy besties.”

  “I don’t know what that means, but don’t worry about it. You’ll have a lifetime to make it up to her,” David chuckled, his fingers sliding beneath Rory’s shorts suggestively. “And she’ll collect, so enjoy the reprieve.”

  Rory paused at that, then started to lick David’s earlobe. “Is she upset about the recording?”

  David hadn’t participated in their last two Rehash and Review shows—where they sat down in front of the camera and talked about the latest episode of a favorite show for people who had literally just watched it with them. But it was really popular, so what did he know?

  He had stayed up late to edit everything from his laptop instead, though. So Rory tried to quell his guilt. “She understands, Roar. She’d feel the same way if Janice needed her.”

  Rory burrowed closer and forced himself to breathe normally. David had been saying things like that since he’d picked him up from the hospital. Inferring. Implying. Strongly hinting at Rory’s relationship unicorn. Love. Unconditional acceptance and happily ever fucking after.

  Rig had been doing the same thing. It was a conspiracy. He could almost believe they’d made a decision without him about their relationship, and they were no longer planning to consult Rory about it at all. They were together. Whether he liked it or not.

  He liked it.

  He half expected to be woken up between them in a Las Vegas chapel, wondering how the hell he got there as Elvis pronounced them all officially “stuck like glue.”

  That might be his new fantasy.

  Rory thought again about Younger’s phone call. Always gay, he’d said. He’d hidden it well. People had been going gay left and right in this family, and there he’d stood, the silent sentinel locked in the closet for almost forty years.

  The funny thing was, Rory used to wish he could be more like him. He could put on a smile and act like he didn’t care—but he’d never been able to pull off the straight macho act the way Solomon always had. It would have saved him so much grief with his father if he could have.

  But he didn’t have to act now. There was no longer any need for Lying Rory or Pretend Rory or even Fun Rory. Not if he was doing this for real. Not if David and Rig were serious about them continuing as a threesome.

  Younger thinks you’re fearless.

  He lifted his head to look at David.

  “What is it, Rory?”

  Where would he even begin? In a way, his brother had helped him solve that problem too.

  “There’s something you and Rig should read.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Rory had called him a hero. David touched the words again, reliving one of their earliest moments…the moment when Rory Finn knew he’d love David Mills for the rest of his life—and that he’d never risk losing him by sharing that information.

  David clung to the sweet, seventeen-year-old’s declaration, because the rest of the journals were almost too horrifying to endure. They painted the picture of an outwardly handsome and well-respected police chief whose children had been held hostage by his impossible expectations and ever-increasing bitterness. A man who’d used his youngest son as a verbal, and sometimes physical, punching bag. A man who’d convinced a little boy that he was so bad he’d killed his mother, and so flawed that no one could ever love him.

  The Rory in this journal had already learned more survival skills than David would ever know. Like how to hide his emotional hurt and his occasional bruises from his brothers by being obnoxious. He’d say something shocking or do something to irritate them and they’d leave him alone more often than they would if he seemed withdrawn. In school he’d excelled at everything to put people off, because the more people you knew the less they knew you. It helped to camouflage his insecurities.

  He’d literally written the book on emotional survival as an abused teen. A psychology professor might not have approved of his choices, but they’d sure as hell worked.

  Rory’s last year of school, the year David had met him, he’d hardly gone home at all—couch surfing with Noah and Wyatt or visiting his uncle. But when he did, with no one as a buffer Sol was unrelenting in his disapproval.

  Rory wrote that spending time with David had been his salvation. That their long talks and conversations about college had made him hopeful about the future, even knowing his romantic feelings would remain unrequited forever.

  Not quite forever, Roar.

  Rig stomped into the living room and sat down hard on the couch, tossing the other journal on the coffee table before burying his face in his hands.

  David knew exactly how Rig was feeling. He’d read those same pages an hour ago and nearly lost his lunch.

  David had still been in Oregon, but that didn’t erase the ache that came with the knowledge that the man he loved had been violated by an adult against his will.

  At sixteen, Rory had gotten drunk and had his first real kiss under the tree in their backyard. The same tree where he’d broken his arm years before. His father had found him and gone ballistic.

  The next day he’d handed him over to be “straight scared”, as Rory put it, reversing the program’s words on purpose. The cop who ran the program was known for working to keep teens off the streets. He’d been written up more than once for crossing the line to get his point across, but apparently Sol still thought he was the right man for the job. What happened after proved him wrong.

  When his father found him curled up in a ball in the bathroom that night, it was obvious what had happened. He’d put Rory in the shower and handed him the same liquor he’d gotten the belt for drinking. Then Elder had disappeared for two days.

  After he came back he told Rory he wasn’t going to talk about it and suggested he do the same. They never brought it up again.

  It enraged David. Despite his size, his own father was a big teddy bear who didn’t believe in corporal punishment or the death penalty. Still David knew he would transform into a grizzly if his family were threatened in any way.

  Sol had been the fucking police chief and he’d done nothing.

  He rubbed Rig’s back in gentle commiseration. “Where is he?”

  “Taking a nap.” Rig sounded exhausted. As if he hadn’t slept in days. “He said we didn’t have to read everything today. Or ever. I—” Rig yanked at his hair and sent a sad, lost glance in his direction. “How do you punish the dead?”

  David had been wondering the same thing. “I think the best way to do that is to make sure the living are happy. Loved. Safe.”

  Rig reached out and squeezed his hand. “I like that. I think we can handle that.”

  David squeezed back, loving the connection. As long as they were all together they could handle anything. “You had a feeling, didn’t you? That it was something like this?

”

  “Feelings and reality are two entirely different animals. I honestly wasn’t sure we’d ever know the whole story. That he’d ever trust us with it the way he has.”

  David wondered if Rory’s phone call with his brother had something to do with it. He could only hope what he and Rig were doing was making some kind of impact as well. It seemed to be helping, but he still wasn’t sure.

  The night they’d brought him home they’d agreed on their plan of action. It was simple. Love and affection, with a dash of avoidance. No confrontations, declarations or intense bedroom sessions until he was ready. Just lots of physical contact and loving touches.

  “Do you think he’s suspicious?”

  Rig lifted his hand and kissed it, his tongue tracing the knuckles until David shivered. “It’s Rory. He’s too smart not to be. We just have to be patient. Especially now.”

  David didn’t want to be patient. He wanted to tell Rory how much they loved him and then tie him to the bed for a month. Long enough for him to agree to the three of them moving in together, signing legally binding contracts and having an intimate family ceremony. He wanted a lifetime with his lovers, a houseful of dogs and the possible adoption of an at risk teen.

  That wasn’t too much to ask for, right?

  Rig smiled as if he knew what David was thinking. “Stay strong, Mills. He deserves some of that wooing you were talking about. And time to trust that we’re not going anywhere.”

  David sighed. “That sounds right. I hate that.”

  “I’m always right, David.”

  “You sound like my sister.” But he had been so far. “I only hope we all survive this.”

  “I don’t think blue balls has ever killed anybody, but I’m not sure. I’ve never been on a sex cleanse before.” His chuckle ended on a pained groan. “Should we wake up sleeping beauty now?”

  David stood and adjusted himself with a grimace. “I can take it if you can. Besides, he’s looking forward to his brother coming over. I was thinking about inviting Walter and Macy tomorrow. We should get to know them, right? And maybe Brady and his fiancé. Too soon?”

  Loving Rory had utterly destroyed his famous Mills chill. He wanted everything. Right. Fucking. Now.

  He was turning into Essie.

  “Damn it.” He’d never hear the end of it.

  ***

  Three weeks.

  Rory wandered aimlessly adjusting and readjusting candles and sofa pillows. He wanted everything to be perfect. It had to be. And this had to work.

  When he’d told Younger about his plan, his brother had laughed long and loud before giving him his seal of approval.

  Solomon Finn laughed more now. He smiled. Rory had never realized how heavy his brother’s burdens had felt to him until they’d started disappearing. He seemed taller, younger and…different. Free.

  Rory wanted to take some credit, for it to be about their daily conversations and weekly get-togethers, but in reality, it might have more to do with the last Finn Again, when Solomon the Younger had come out to his entire family before dessert.

  It had been glorious.

  And Younger had been thorough in his explanations and apologies. Seamus had a grin like a Cheshire cat while Stephen’s wife, Tasha demanded Jeremy pay her for their bet. Brady couldn’t stop shaking his head while Ken Tanaka chuckled, both clearly just as surprised as Rory had been. Their brother Noah was thoughtful but accepting and James was the first to embrace him. Wyatt was the last, and he’d been showing some definite signs of shock. “Is there something in the water? Somebody would tell me, right?”

  Younger had whacked him on the back of his head and given him a hug. Because that was the kind of thing he did now. He hugged and approved of dirty plans to seduce people who were torturing Rory with affection, attention and three weeks of sleeping together with no sex.

  Rory’s only consolation was that they were all suffering. Rig had started working out more—a lot more—in order to exhaust himself. David distracted himself all day but once he fell asleep, he moaned and rubbed his cock-teasing monster of an erection against Rory’s hip every night.

  He would have done something about it, but David was a frustratingly light sleeper.

  At least Dream Rory was getting lucky.

  If real Rory were getting laid, everything would be exactly as it should be. It was astonishing how easy it was to live with them and how very not-at-all he missed his sad apartment with its artistic milk crates.

  The three of them had always been close, but living together on a daily basis didn’t work for everyone. Merging work schedules and extended family, therapy sessions and arguments over the remote might have ended in disaster.

  But together, they fit. Rory had never been in a situation that felt more like home. He’d never felt more loved.

  He was loved.

  And with all that love came the surprising lack of sex along with an overabundance of socializing. They’d gone to see Nonna Gina with Noah and little Zachary. Rig’s grandmother apparently had the perfect nanny in mind for the Z-man. Yet another cooking Rigatelli.

  They’d also had dinner with Jen, her bookends, Walter and Macy. As soon as Rory saw Professor Kelley and Macy hit it off academically, he began to understand what his two men were up to.

  His suspicions were confirmed after a picnic at Owen and Jeremy’s lake house with Essie, Hermione and Weasley, their puppy Angus and his always-proud owner, Uncle Shawn.

  Owen’s dog, Badass photobombed every picture.

  He realized what they were doing, but “creating a network of spies” sounded cooler so that’s what he was going with. The gist was, if everyone he knew met everyone else he knew, he’d never be able to hide behind a mask again.

  Once he’d opened the door, his family and friends came rushing in as if they’d been waiting for the invitation all this time. And even wilder, all the separate groups got along with each other. Like chocolate and fucking peanut butter. Like Rig and David, who seemed to grow closer to him and to each other with every passing day.

  It was a revelation.

  None of this meant David and Rig were off the hook for denying him for three entire weeks. Even after he’d used every subtle and not-so-subtle hint in his repertoire—including accidentally letting them discover how flexible he really was, they gave him nothing. Nothing but “space.”

  Enough was enough.

  His phone rang once and disconnected. That was the sign he’d told the girls to use. He’d called in a few favors for this from Jen, Essie and Janice. Jen had lured her boy toys to a hotel penthouse so he could borrow their magical ménage mansion for the night. Essie and Janice were in charge of sending David and Rig in his direction, even if kidnapping was involved.

  Nonna Gina had even made a dinner that was warming on the stove… If they got too weak and needed to regain their strength.

  He glanced at the entertainment center that was Declan’s pride and joy and saw that yes, the projector’s screen was still paused on the right YouTube video.

  Don’t forget to breathe.

  “Shut up.”

  “Rory? Is that you? What are you doing here?” David walked into the living room, kneeling down to pet Duck and Goose. The confusion and the pinched skin between his eyebrows was a bad sign. “I thought you had to work.”

  “So did I.” Rig wandered in at a slower pace, his gaze taking Rory in from head to toe. It wasn’t hard, since his only covering was one dangerously small towel. “Essie said we needed to pick up the dogs. I’m assuming that was a great big lie?”

  “It was.” Why was he nervous? “I thought we should have a talk.”

  David stood, visibly swallowing as he took in Rory’s state of undress. “You want to talk? Dressed like that? And we couldn’t have this conversation at home?”

  “Which home?” Rory dove in, hoping for that opening. “Rig’s place that he’s been talking about selling for a month? Or yours that’s a little smallish for three men and a monster penis?”

  Rig chuckled. “Well, we know it won’t be yours.”

  Breathe. “My old apartment? You’re right. We couldn’t get in anyway since I terminated my lease and had most of my furniture burned in a pagan ritual of cleansing.”

  David bit down on his lip. Hard. “You moved out of your apartment?”

  “You terminated your lease?” Rig repeated softly.

  “Hard to believe, right? It only took ten years, but most good things do.”

  Rig moved closer. “That’s a big step for you.”

  “This is a bigger one.” He clicked play on the remote and watched as Essie’s face appeared on the giant screen. She waved as if she could see them.

  “Hi guys.”

  “I don’t recognize this video.” David was frowning. “Did she make this without me?”

  As if she were responding live, Essie looked directly into the camera. “Janice and I made this and Uncle Shawn let me upload it to his channel to keep you from finding it, so chill out golden child.”

  Rory saw David’s lips twitch.

  “I’m filming today to give you—David Mills and Anthony Rigatelli—a taste of the good life.” She flung her arm out and stepped to the side, revealing a beautiful old house. “Let’s look inside, shall we?”

  “She’s really hamming it up,” David murmured.

  “Pay attention.” Please like this.

  Essie kept the patter going as she walked them through the gourmet chef’s kitchen, the studio that could be used for making their YouTube videos, and the fully equipped workout room with a patio that led to the pool.

  “There are five bedrooms and three baths, perfect for family visits or office conversions. And on the other side of this very spacious backyard that some poor sucker has to mow? A cottage for Buffy-loving Nonna!” She looked into the camera. “Wow. This place has everything, doesn’t it? The good life tastes good.”

  “What are we looking at, Rory?” Rig’s voice was strained with suppressed emotion.

  “Keep watching. She’s getting to that.”

  She started walking the path back to the main house. “You may be wondering, what the hell are we looking at, Essie? What are you doing? Auditioning for HGTV? Sadly, that is not the case. This, to be perfectly honest, is a confession from the sexpot hopefully standing right beside you.”

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