by Smith,T. M.
He stared down at Tristan, pupils blown, eyes wide and untamed, lips parted as a litany of the sexiest noises fell from his lips. It felt too good for him to remain still and compliant any longer. Fighting against the solid grip Tristan had on his hips, Micah started thrusting. It didn’t take long for Micah’s body to submit to the pull of the orgasm that wouldn’t be staved off now, regardless of his lover’s ministrations.
His body trembled, his legs tightening on either side of Tristan, he threw his head back and shouted. “I’m coming, Gabe, god, hold me up, it’s too much!” Gabe wrapped both arms around Micah’s chest holding him as the first jet of come streamed from Micah’s untouched cock.
“Gabe,” Tristan growled. Gabe met his eyes, “Pull out, now.” Gabe nodded. He couldn’t just jerk his ass back and pull out, he tried, but Micah’s body was clamped down tight as he rode the waves of his orgasm that were crashing over him like the waves of a high tide, threatening to drown him with more pleasure than he could ever recall feeling. Gabe had to let go of Micah and pray Tristan could hold him up long enough to reach down and coax his dick out of Micah.
As soon as Gabe was out Tristan grabbed Micah and rolled them so he was on top, driving deep with one thrust. He drilled Micah fast and hard, sweat coating both their bodies and the sheets as Tristan, literally fucked him into the mattress.
“Tris, what are you, oh god, fuck, I’m going to come again!” Micah was screaming and writhing as he came again. An animalistic noise, somewhere between a growl and deep guttural moan, reverberated off the walls when Tristan threw his head back and howled through his orgasm. Micah floated above the bed, the sensation of coming so hard and twice in less than a minute had shattered his senses.
Gabe’s heavy breathing followed by a strained, drawn out “fuuuuuuuuckkkk!” pulled Micah back into his body. Opening his eyes, he turned to see Gabe, leaning back on one hand, the other squeezing the last few drops of come from his spent dick, his belly and thighs dotted with the creamy, white ropes of come. Micah smiled at the sight of Gabe sitting on his knees, panting, starring at Micah and Tristan, fingers still wrapped around his now flaccid cock. “Sorry, that was just so beyond sexy, I barely wrapped my fingers around my dick and I was coming.” Gabe said, leaning over to kiss Tristan and almost falling face first into him. They both laughed.
Micah closed his eyes and concentrated on calming his racing heart. “It think I felt… your dick… hit the back of my throat… Tris.” His body was still trembling in the wake of the single most satisfying sexual experience of his life. He wasn’t sure he would ever catch his breath again. Opening one eye, he rolled his head and snorted. Gabe wasn’t much better off, if Tristan wasn’t holding him up, he would probably be face down ass up on the mattress.
Since he was the only one that could even remotely walk right then. Tris crawled out of bed and made his way to the bathroom, on shaking legs. He washed up before carrying two warm, wet washcloths out to Micah and Gabe. He tossed one at Gabe, who was now lying on his back sideways across the bed, his legs covering Micah.
Micah had come so hard and so much that the white jizz was puddling around him. Tristan lifted Micah’s leg to wipe his come that was slowly leaking out of Micah’s ass and Micah flinched. “Easy down there, I’m sore as fuck already.”
“Awwwww, want me to kiss it and make it better?” Tristan asked. He smacked Micah on the leg when he spread his thighs.
“Hey! You offered.” Micah snorted.
“Holy fuck, I can’t feel my legs.” Gabe groaned. Micah and Tristan couldn’t help laughing. Gabe balled up the now cold, wet wash cloth and tossed it at them. Tristan made a very unmanly sound when it hit him in the face.
As much as Tristan wanted to shower, he wanted to hold his men close even more. With some shifting, flipping and pulling, the three of them were finally lying facing the same direction. Tristan pulled the blanket up over them, reaching over and flipping the lamp off, kissing each of them on the head in turn.
Micah sat up slightly, resting his chin on Tristan’s chest. The moonlight painted their bodies with stark contrasts of silver and blue hues. “I love you both so much; I want you to know that.”
Gabe rolled to his side, propping himself up with an elbow. “Micah, baby, we do know that. I thought that’s what all this was about, what we just did. That you wanted the three of us to be connected in a way that most people never get to share, that you wanted to give yourself over to us and trust us to give you what you needed without hurting you.”
Micah smiled, nodding. “It was, in a way, but it’s not just that, just the sex. It’s what’s in here.” He ran his fingers over Tristan’s chest, circling his heart, reaching for Gabe and doing the same. “It’s the way we trust each other with our hearts, implicitly, irrevocably.” Leaning over Tristan’s body, Micah kissed Gabe, then pulled back and kissed Tristan.
“We hold each other’s hearts in our hands.” Tristan replied.
“Good. Then they’ll never, ever be broken again.” Gabe smiled, he and Micah laying their heads on Tristan’s chest, eventually dosing off to sleep. Tristan continued to rub their backs, fighting off his own drowsiness as long as possible, enjoying the quiet snores and even breathing, treasuring the trust his two partners had put in him… in them.
Chapter 21 | Sunday Dinner
Micah followed Gabe and Tristan up the driveway and into the modest, two-story home Tristan and his brothers had grown up in. He and Gabe were both nervous as hell. Tristan had to hide Micah’s bottle of Valium to stop them both from pre-Gran medicating themselves. On the one hand, Kory and Jon would be there. On the other hand, everyone would be there. Tristan’s parents, brothers, Sal’s wife Kate and Tristan mentioned Rafe, the youngest Brennan, bringing the woman he was seeing home to meet the parents as well.
Tristan took their jackets and hung them in a closet next to the front door as they walked into the house. “Hey bro! So these are the little women?” A shorter, younger version of Tristan with green eyes coaxed his brother as he approached. Tristan hugged his brother before turning to make introductions.
“Rafe, this is Micah and Gabe. Guys, this is my little brother, Raphael.” Tristan stressed the word little when he spoke.
“Hey!” Rafe whacked Tristan on the arm before shaking Micah then Gabe’s hand.
“What’s this little women nonsense?” Tristan glared at his brother.
“It’s been the running joke all week. Mom told Gran that you were bringing your friends, plural, so Gran has been going on and on about that. Just wait till she sees that your friends are mens.” Rafe cackled, making air quotes with his fingers. Laughing, he turned and disappeared around the corner.
“Tris, is that you I hear out here?” An older man with red hair and green eyes came around the corner Rafe had just turned. He gave Tristan a hug before greeting Micah and Gabe. “Hey, thanks for coming today; it’s great to finally meet the infamous Micah and Gabe.”
Tristan rolled his eyes at his father, shaking his head and mouthing, lies behind his father’s back.
“You must be Micah.” He shook Micah’s hand, “And Gabe.” then Gabe’s. “Name’s Sheamus, but you can call me Shay; everyone does.”
“Yes sir, nice to meet you sir,” Micah stuttered.
“Now that, you can’t call me, unless you work for me.” Shay clapped Micah on the shoulder, squeezing.
“Tristan!” A slight woman with hair as black and eyes as blue as Tristan’s floated into the entryway, Tristan grabbing her and hugging her as soon as she was in arm’s reach.
“Hey, Ma.”
She turned to Micah and Gabe, and as soon as she smiled, Micah saw so much of Tristan in her face. The way his smile lit up his eyes, full of sincerity and kindness, was something he inherited from his mother. They even had the same laugh lines around their eyes and mouth.
“Oh, but I’m just a mess.” She wiped her hands on her apron, brushing her hair off her shoulder. Micah didn’t know what the hell she wa
s talking about. Even wearing a food-stained apron and house slippers, the woman was stunning.
She knocked Micah’s hand out of the way and went up on her tip-toes, wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him. She did the same to Gabe, though she didn’t have to stretch as far; they were roughly the same height give or take a few inches. “It’s so nice to finally meet both of you. Tris has told us all so much about you.”
They finally got past the entryway, walking into a large living room with a big screen TV, two large couches and an oversized chair all perched in front of the wall the TV was mounted on. Jon and Kory were stretched out on one of the couches watching a baseball game, yelling at the screen. “You already know those two hooligans,” Shay said, throwing an arm over Gabe’s shoulder, then Micah’s and walking them toward the dining room.
“Sal, Kate, come meet Tristan’s partners.” More introductions ensued and once that was all done, Micah and Gabe followed Tristan over to the couch across from the one Jon and Kory were sitting on. They took a seat, Tristan in the middle with Micah on one side, Gabe on the other, and as soon as he laid an arm over each of their shoulders, they both visibly relaxed. Shay came back into the room with his arms full of beers, passing them out until he only held his own.
Jon sat up, leaning toward Tristan, whispering. “So, did you see the hoochie mama that Rafe brought home?”
Tristan snorted. “Nope, haven’t had the pleasure yet.”
Jon looked over his shoulder, making sure no one was looking or listening. “I think our baby brother decided to give you your Christmas present early this year, Tris.” Jon said, leaning over the coffee table and slapping Tristan on the leg. They both laughed, sitting back when Rafe headed into the room with a girl trailing behind him that was obviously channeling Madonna — Like a Virgin Madonna. She wore skin-tight, ripped jeans with holes in the knees. Short lace up boots with four inch heels, a shirt that hung way too low off one shoulder and her hair was actually crimped. Micah didn’t even know you could still buy crimping irons. He thought those were destroyed or dumped into a large landfill along with parachute pants, leg warmers and cassette tapes.
“Hells bells, do ya think she might coulda found a pair a pants to wear that don’t look like they been through the war?” Now that was a new voice, a full on Irish voice. Micah shivered.
“Dude, you’re on your own,” Kory called out, laughing.
A plump little woman that might have reached five feet tall, in heels, blew into the room. She had emerald green eyes and a head full of curly fire-engine red hair. And boy, was she fit to be tied.
Micah and Gabe both tried to hide behind Tristan as the Tasmanian Devil blew into the room. They couldn’t understand one word she was saying either. “She’s speaking Gaelic,” Tristan told them. He cocked his head to one side, listening; obviously he could understand. Then he fell back onto the couch laughing. “Oh hell, she does not like Rafe’s girlfriend at all.”
“Why? What’s she saying?” Gabe asked.
“If I repeat what she’s saying, Ma will have my hide,” Tristan said, smiling.
“Oh shit, oh no, Tris, she’s coming this way,” Gabe whined.
Jon and Kory laughed hysterically. The fuckers were having way too much fun over there, out of the line of fire.
“Tris my love, get yerself up now and give your Gran a hug.” Tristan stood and hugged his Gran, sliding his arm over her shoulder and turning to face Micah and Gabe.
“Gran, I’d like you to meet Micah and Gabe, my partners.” Tristan introduced them and they both stood. Nice to meet ya, yadda yadda yadda, handshakes, can we sit back down now, preferably as far away from the crazy demon with the red hair and glowing green eyes?
“I thought ya were bringin yer lady friend today Tris?” Gran looked up at him, brow furrowed. Micah didn’t know if it was the peals of laughter coming from Jon, Kory and Rafe, or the way Tristan looked at both Gabe and Micah, with so much love and tenderness. Either way, Gran quickly figured it out. Her head snapped back, starring daggers at Micah and Gabe. Poor Gabe tried to hide behind Micah, causing a renewed round of laughter that had only just quieted.
“Jesus, Mary and Joseph! What is it with ye Brennan men? Ya can’t find a cat ta pooch?” By now Jon and Kory were laughing so hard, they were practically crying. Tears streamed down both their faces; Jon hunched over in Kory’s lap holding his stomach, begging everyone to stop before he pissed in his pants.
Gran rounded on them, her finger pointed at Jon and Kory with all the danger of a loaded gun. They tried to look contrite, sitting up and trying very, very hard to stop laughing. Their bodies still shook with the internal hilarity they couldn’t douse. When Gran went off on a tirade of Gaelic again, it only succeeded in stoking the laughter back to the surface.
She threw her arms in the air, quickly dropping them back at her sides. She turned and huffed off, muttering under her breath as she went. “At least the men folk are wearing clothes with no holes! Aiy! I need a fecking drink, but keep tha good whiskey away from the wee one, he might stop breathin’.”
“Hey,” Gabe shouted, Micah grabbing him and covering his mouth.
“Shut your face. You don’t want her to come back, do you?” Micah whispered in his ear.
Gabe turned to Micah, smiling at him before leaning in for a quick peck. “That’s my line.”
Dinner itself was almost as fun as the precursor. Micah and Gabe were already pros at multiple conversation schematics, so they were able to keep up with just about everyone’s ramblings, except Gran. She continued to ramble on in half-English, half-Gaelic sentences. She cursed, drank whiskey and belched like a full-grown man. Micah was certain that, were he a woman that could produce a pack of grandbabies for the wild eyed Celtic woman, they would be best fucking friends. The funniest thing to happen during dinner was Gabe asking if there was a knife he could cut his pot roast with, receiving a resounding “NO!” from every man in the room except Micah and Gran.
It was close to midnight by the time they made it home. “Jesus, how could someone do that every Sunday? I’m exhausted, been ready for a nap since five minutes after we got there,” Gabe said, dragging his ass up the stairs.
Tristan chuckled. “We don’t do it every Sunday, just when we can. And we aren’t usually there so late; tonight was different, lots of introductions and then you two got lost in the photo albums with Mom and I wasn’t sure I’d ever drag your asses out of there.”
“Oh, but the one of you with your cute wittle face buried in the chocolate cake for your first birthday was adorable!” Gabe squealed, turning and pinching Tristan’s cheeks.
“I’ll show you cute,” Tristan growled, bending and throwing Gabe over his shoulder, smacking his ass, hard. Gabe howled, the sound something between pain and laughter. Micah shook his head, following them up the stairs, grinning.
Tristan dropped Gabe onto the king-sized bed that they had moved into the big bedroom that used to be just Gabe’s. The three of them now shared the room, the large closest perfect for the full wardrobes of three grown men. Ideas had been tossed around for what to do with Micah’s old room: office, gym, library, nursery. There was time to figure out their future later, though. Right now Tristan was straddling Gabe on their big-ass bed, his hands holding Gabe down while he plundered his mouth, kissing, licking and biting.
Micah kicked off his shoes and began undressing, slowly, as he watched the two men he loved more than anything rile each other up. He didn’t know how long he stood there, staring, eyes memorizing every facet of their beautiful bodies as they groped and fondled each other. He blinked and shook his head, thoughts clearing at the sound of Tristan’s voice.
“Micah, you okay, babe?” He and Gabe stared up at Micah, concern replacing the looks of wanton lust they were sharing just moments ago.
Micah smiled, walking over and sitting on the edge of the bed. “I love you, both of you, so fucking much. I hope you know that.”
Gabe’s grin was blinding. �
�Yeah, we do. But instead of telling us, why don’t you get your sexy ass in this bed and show us?”
“Well, that is a challenge if I ever heard one,” Micah responded before shoving Tristan off Gabe then rolling onto the bed and over Gabe until he was lying on his back in between them, the place where he felt more safe and loved than he ever had. The place he called home.
Epilogue
William leaned back against the bar, beer in hand, watching the object of his obsession as he moved gracefully from table to table. Having arrived at BB’s Bar for the graduation party Victor, Andrew and Mattie were throwing along with Shay and Sophia Brennan to celebrate Jordan and Tristan both graduating, he’d been pleasantly surprised to learn it was owned by the leather-clad giant he’d briefly met at Tristan’s office several months ago.
Jordan was finally a full-fledged MD and was taking some time off before starting his new job at a local hospital in the ER. His and Kassie’s wedding was just a few weeks away, so they decided to get married and take an extended honeymoon while they could, before Jordan had zero time to play. And now that Tristan no longer had class he was using that free time to start his own practice. A co-owner of their brownstone, he was putting that third floor office to good use.