by H M Wolfe
''Daddy, Uncle Vale is a meanie!'' a tiny voice belonging to a little girl, no older than five, cut the man short. ''He doesn't want to give me chocolate chip cookies, but let Wilmot have two. Who are you?'' she scrunched up her cute little button nose, pointing at Ian.
''I'm Ian. A pleasure to meet you.'' the man said, extending a hand. ''Who are you, little princess?'' he smiled, aching to pick the girl up and hug her.
''Marie-Anette Roberts, but everyone calls me Marinette. Can you tell Uncle Vale to let me have cookies, please?” she gave the special prosecutor the most irresistible puppy eyes.
''Sure, but first, you need to eat your oatmeal, it gives you superpowers.'' Ian winked. ''Trust me, I ate a lot of it when I was your age and look at me today. Then, your uncle will give you two chocolate chip cookies.'' he smiled somewhat mischievously. ''Meanwhile, I'll have a grown-up talk with your Dad.''
Vinson witnessed the scene in silence, expecting the usual protests and declarations of war from his daughter. When they didn't come, the man shook his head in disbelief, especially when he heard the little one politely asking for her oatmeal. He and Vale always had trouble convincing her to eat her portion, minuscule as it was.
And there he was, that man who'd just stepped inside their house. A total stranger to Marinette, making her go and ask for the detested food by herself, and politely at that. He sure had a way with words, especially for someone who'd never dealt with children, Vinson thought, with a mix of admiration and envy.
''Come in here. Let's sit down and talk,'' he guided Ian to the living-room. ''I never thought someone could convince my daughter to eat something she doesn't like. At least without fighting for some time first. Especially someone like you, who...''
''A stern, soulless bastard who puts people behind bars and feeds on their souls for breakfast? A barren tree who hadn't produced any fruit? A sick fucktard who made your brother a mere instrument for his pleasure?'' Ian's voice was sad and soft.
''I didn't mean to sound like that.'' Vinson lowered his head. ''I'm sorry if I offended you. How's Warrick doing? Is he...does he feel better?''
''We take it a day at a time. Some of them are good, others are bad.'' the special prosecutor answered in the same voice from earlier. ''But I think he's ready to meet his brothers and talk to them. That's if the said brothers want that, too?''
''Look...'' Vinson started, only to be cut short by Valeran, who burst into the room. ''I can't believe your daughter! She's in her room, watching TV. She didn't protest when I said the weather is too cold for them to play outside.''
''The credit goes to Mister Saint-Clair here. It seems that the big guy in the sky blessed him with the gift of understanding five-year-old divas, and he used it on my daughter.'' Vinson grinned. ''Come, sit down. He just started talking to me about our brother.''
''Hi, the name's Ian, and there's no secret, I just used logical thinking, translating it into a language she could understand and relate to.'' the man smiled. ''Now, that you are both here, let's get back to the topic at hand. I'm here to ask for your help. Warrick needs you in his life. Both of you.''
''Of course,'' Valeran answered on the spot, his eyes shining with brotherly affection. ''We were waiting for him to give us a sign that he's ready to talk to us finally. That he will listen to our version of the story and...''
As the younger man was talking, Ian scrutinized him and Vinson. He was impressed with what he discovered. The brothers' body language and the way they looked at each other. The softness, but also the passion in their eyes; everything spoke of the deep love between them. They were sitting there, so close that they seemed conjoined, not giving a damn about what the older man may think of them.
Ian could relate to them on multiple levels, because, just like their unconventional relationship, his lifestyle was the subject of people's gossip and disapproval. Knowing Vinson and Valeran through Warrick's eyes, listening to his stories, he came to have a brotherly affection for the two of them.
''Well,'' he sucked in a deep breath, ''I have to leave, but before I do, I want to ask a huge favor from you. Could you please use your father's house as a meeting place for you and Warrick? He likes it there and...''
''No way,'' Valeran said in a harsh voice, starkly contrasting with the mellow, kind expression on his face. ''That man ripped out mom's heart and turned his goddamn back on her. She was a pregnant, scared woman, who raised his sons by herself. For me, he is a goddamn coward and nothing more.''
''Besides,'' Vinson intervened in a softer voice, ''we have serious competition there in the persons of the other three men's sons. If the rumors are true, Hayden Bloom was engineered by our father. He'd wanted a mini-Sebastian. Even their submissive's children are higher ranked in his preferences. How can we beat that?''
''You're right. It's impossible.'' Ian shrugged. ''However, Warrick's trying his best, and since we are at that end, I have to leave now, my sub needs me. See you around,'' he said flatly, heading to the front door.
''Wait!'' Vinson caught the man from behind, making him turn around and face him. ''We'll be there for our brother's sake. We'll try our best, no promises, though.''
''Thank you,'' Ian smiled, ''that's all I can ask of you.''
CHAPTER 3
''W
here have you been, birthday boy?'' Vinson's eyes were shining with affection, his smile soft, as Valeran entered the room. ''C'mere,'' the boy patted the spot on the bed next to him.
''I was checking on Warrick. He kept complaining about a bad migraine ever since the party started. He was barely able to enjoy it. Our brother works too much if you ask me.'' the kid plopped down on the bed, letting out a heavy sigh.
''I agree. No one asked him to do that. Everyone has told Warrick to slow down, but he never listens, not even to mom. What can we do?'' Vinson shrugged, kissing his brother's temple.
''Still, we can't leave our brother like that.'' Valeran insisted, his eyes clouded by sadness. ''Earlier, I saw him crying. He...he doesn't look good at all.''
''Like I said, maybe all Warrick needs and wants is to be left alone so that he can have a good night's sleep. He always was a smart guy, and we should follow his example.'' Vinson's purred in the other boy's ear. ''Let's get a shower and then to bed with us.''
''I don't feel like showering.'' Valeran waved a hand, tired all of a sudden. ''I think I'll skip it this time,'' he stripped down to his underwear, sliding under the cover.
Vinson imitated his example, hopping under the covers. ''Mmmm, you smell like vanilla. I could eat you up all in one go, starting from here,'' he nuzzled his twin's neck. ''Delicious, tastier than any birthday cake.''
''Stop it, Vin, we shouldn't do that,'' Valeran squirmed as the tongue of the other boy swirled on his neck, kissing and licking at the same spot. ''It's...wrong...and...'' the words of protest were drowned out by the short, heavy pants he emitted.
''And what? Why is it so wrong, may I ask? Who are you afraid of? Mom? She'll support and understand us; we are her sons. Warrick? It's not his business who we are in love with. He should get his own life. Or don't you love me anymore?'' The boy's voice went from passionate to broken in one split second.
''Of course, I love you. I couldn't live without you.'' Valeran caressed his brother's cheek with long, slim, elegant fingers.''But what you want is impossible, and we better...''
''Better what? Give ourselves to others who wouldn't know how to appreciate that special, one-time present. Someone who'd ruin it by hurrying to take possession of something they're not worthy of? I love you too much, Vale, to allow something like that to happen to you.''
''You're right.'' Valeran finally gave up, much to his twin's joy and delight. ''But I want you to answer me honestly. Have you ever been with someone before? I haven't, and you know it.'' he lowered his gaze, blushing a deep shade of pink.
''Of course not, babe. I've saved myself for you,'' Vinson gently kissed Valeran's hand, one fingertip after the other, ''for the most special person in my
life.''
Smiling reassuringly, he removed his underwear with the other boy imitating him. He then took the bottle of lube, squirting almost a quarter of its content into his palm, and coating his already semi-erect cock. The teenager took his time preparing Valeran for the intrusion, inserting a finger into his pulsating, puckered hole, and sliding it in and out. Then, after what seemed like forever, added another.
At first, Valeran gasped at the penetration, but soon, the discomfort and pain subsided, replaced by a strange warmth. It then turned into an unbearable heat that left him wanting more. Moaning at the sight of his brother, moving wantonly, thrusting his hips forward, a smile of satisfaction appeared on Vinson's face.
Whispering sweet words as he kissed Valeran's heated skin, he slowly filled the boy, hard inch by hard inch, giving him time to adjust. He then started to move rhythmically into the hot, welcoming tightness that was pulsating around his cock. The two locked eyes, becoming one, in body and soul. United in spirit by the love they had for each other.
Several minutes later, the boys orgasmed in sync. Vinson's hot seed flooded Valeran's tight channel, while the other teen shot his release between them. Exhausted, the two collapsed on the bed, trying to catch their breath and radiant smiles on their faces. They spent the time in silence, gazing into each other's eyes, fingers laced, and hearts almost bursting from the love they had for one another.
Sometime later, it was Valeran's turn to unwrap the present his brother got him for their birthday. His lovemaking was sweeter, slower, more innocent. His caresses were more delicate, almost tentative as if he was afraid he would hurt Vinson. The sensation of completion, of being whole, was even more present than the first time. Maybe it was because they'd found the best way of expressing their physical attraction.
Valeran played his brother's body like a finely tuned instrument. He made him wish that moment could last forever, the two of them young and in love for eternity. Like all good things, however, it soon came to an end. The boys were again reaching climax together, just like the first time. Not one drop of energy left in them, Vinson and Valeran fell asleep in one another's arms, radiant smiles on their faces.
''Master? Vinson called, said he wants to talk to you.'' A smiling Warrick appeared at the doorstep of Ian's office. ''I better get myself ready; with your permission.'' he slightly bowed his head.
''Sure, pet, go ahead. I'll talk to your brother and then I'll be ready to go. Oh,'' the older man's words made his lover turn around, ''that smile's looking good on you. You should do this more often.''
''Thank you, Master. I'll keep it in mind.'' Warrick gave the older man another weak smile, and headed to the bedroom.
''Hello, Vinson. A few more minutes and we would have been out of the house.'' Ian started to talk in a relaxed voice.
''Actually, there's one big problem.'' the young man's voice was low and hesitating. It contrasted with that of the special prosecutor. ''I don't think we are going to make it. I'm sorry, but the current situation...''
''I understand.'' Ian cut him short. ''I'll explain everything to Warrick the best I can. Honestly, I expected this, but, deep down inside I still hoped he meant something to you. I have to go now, my boy is waiting for me to...''
''No, you don't understand.'' It was Vinson's turn to interrupt the other man. ''The babysitter called to tell us she's not available anymore, and being on such a short notice, we couldn't find another one. Long story short, we can't leave the kids home alone.''
''You don't have to.'' The tone of Ian's voice shifted from flat and heavy to lighthearted. ''I'll babysit, after dropping Warrick at your father's.''
''Thank you very much. I can't believe you are doing this for us.'' Vinson said in a thick, gratitude-filled voice. ''Are you sure? I mean, those two can be a handful at times...''
''Firstly, there's nothing in this world I won't do, to see your brother smiling. Secondly, I think your children are absolutely adorable and reasonable, especially Marinette.'' Ian smiled, remembering his meeting with the little one.
''Whatever you say. Who am I to contradict you?'' Vinson replied, visibly amused by the prosecutor's optimism.
''See you soon. I have to get ready now. Take it easy, first I'll drop your brother at your father's, so he can spend some quality time in his and the others' company.''
Meanwhile, in the bedroom, Warrick lay on the bed, fully dressed. His arms were spread and his legs were hanging over the edge of the bed. For the first time in months, the young man was truly happy. He was waiting impatiently to get together with Vincent and the other three men he considered his fathers. He wanted to let himself be wrapped in their strong, protective arms.
For a brief moment, guilt washed over Warrick. He blamed himself for keeping everyone at arm's length and making them worry over him, as he was drowning in his sorrow, pain and despair. Soon, however, he managed to bounce back from that negative state of mind and started to think about the upcoming visit at his father's place.
Vincent's partners always made him feel welcomed, a part of their unconventional family, and they didn't keep anything hidden from him, on the contrary. Nicholas was always open and honest with Warrick, answering all his questions about submissiveness, giving him advice on how to please his Dom in every way.
At that point, the young man sighed softly, making a mental note to talk to Ian over the weekend. The bad memories faded away, and the healing process, although far from being complete, was going smoothly. At that point, Warrick needed Ian in his life more than ever, but not only for moral support or as a shoulder to cry on.
He wanted to surrender to the man again, utterly, completely, craved his firm, guiding hand, for the domination. The young man trusted his partner, knew he wouldn't hurt him. Warrick always felt safe during the scenes he was engaged in with Ian, at the Dominus or in their own playroom, and wanted to experience that sensation again. Even more, he longed for it.
Unknown to him, the special prosecutor was thinking about the same thing, but from a different perspective. Over the weeks when his submissive fell prey to depression, barely able to walk, shower or eat, he was there to take care of the helpless, younger man needs, like he would have done with a child.
All that time, Ian didn't think of Warrick as of someone with whom he could engage in sexual activities, let alone a submissive. However, as his healing progressed, the prosecutor's desire to be with the young man, to posses that gorgeous body, to take pleasure from him, rewarding his obedience at the same time reached a dangerous peak.
The only solution would be for him to move out of the house, because Warrick wasn't in the state of mind to return to his duties as Ian's submissive, the man thought with a sigh. Until then, however, it wouldn't hurt to boost the younger man's confidence, expressing what he felt for him in a manner he would understand and appreciate.
Walking to the little safe masked by an abstract painting, Ian took the object, examined it with a smile, then went into the bedroom, where Warrick was patiently waiting on the edge of the bed.
''Are you ready, Pet?'' the prosecutor asked, putting the collar around his partner's neck.
''Yes, Master,'' the young man answered, his heart filled with pride and joy.
CHAPTER 4
''H
ere you are, son!'' Sebastian warmly greeted Warrick, enveloping him in a warm, and tight, fatherly hug. ''You've been greatly missed here, by everyone!''
''Welcome, my dear, dear, boy,'' Vincent kissed the young man on the forehead. ''You're looking good,'' he brushed the rebel strands of hair out of his eyes.
''You're looking better,'' Warrick grinned, hugging his father and inhaling his manly scent. The scent that never failed to comfort him. ''Looks like these men of yours are pampering you like royalty,'' he continued, smiling at Nicholas and Joraan, who were waiting for their turn to hug and kiss him.
''On the contrary, dear boy.'' Joraan welcomed Warrick into his open arms, patting him on the back. ''It's your father who takes care o
f all of us. He showers me and the others with love.''
''Your father is the one of sweetest, kindest, most loving Masters whom I've ever had the privilege of meeting.'' Nicholas beamed, wrapping an arm around the newcomer's shoulders. ''Let's get inside, you must be hungry. Master Joraan and I cooked your favorite.''
''Wow, thank you! Your words are like sweet music to my ears, Papa Nicholas.'' Warrick demonstratively rubbed his belly, much to the four men's amusement. ''I only had a frugal breakfast, and, for a moment, I was afraid I upset Master Ian, but he didn't argue, and now I see why.''
''Your lunch won't be complete without a big glass of my trademark, healthy, and tasty carrot and apple juice,'' Joraan spoke with fatherly affection, leaving the room to join Nicholas in the kitchen.