by Jaymin Eve
I didn’t really know what that meant—I knew what it meant, but I didn’t know how it was possible. I nodded anyway, because right now I needed both of them. Yael’s fingers slipped lower, until he brushed across my centre, touching me right where my body ached. I moved against his fingers, and he groaned into my shoulder. Rome stole the sounds that I might have made by taking my mouth again. The kiss was wild, almost desperate, and I started to wonder if I might be in over my head.
There was a lot of build-up in our relationship. A lot of need and frustration and desire—I wasn’t sure how I was going to handle one of them in this state, let alone two of them. I pulled back again to voice my concerns, but then Yael’s fingers slid inside me, and I decided I really, really didn’t care anymore.
I pushed up into his touch again, my hands gripping onto Rome’s shoulders as a tingling sensation built inside of me. Starting low and spreading through my body until I couldn’t take any more; everything welled up, exploding out in a sudden detonation that left me shuddering and falling against the expanse of Rome’s chest. He was breathing hard—almost as hard as me—his entire body clenched beneath mine as Yael pulled his hands back, setting them at my hips again. Rome pressed into me then, his hardness sending another shockwave through my body. His growl of possession had me clutching at him, Yael still supporting me from behind.
“Still okay, Will?” Rome’s voice was a rumble of need, and I could do nothing but nod and hold him tighter.
I needed this, Yael’s magic fingers had only left me craving more. Rome must have read that need in my eyes because he shifted my body slightly, and then that impressive length of his was pushing inside of me. Slowly, allowing my body to adjust as he filled me.
I groaned. Rome was big. Almost too big. I wasn’t sure I could take any more of him.
“Relax,” he tried to tell me, almost through gritted teeth. “Breathe, Will, relax. Please. Fuck.”
Somehow the sound of my nickname growled out of him was enough for me to relax, and then suddenly I was full, complete, and almost coming apart again already.
Pleasure overwhelmed me; it felt incredible, better than I could have imagined. That feeling of being surrounded by two of my boys. Of being able to touch them the way I was and have them both touch me in the same way.
Hands gripped me everywhere, brushing across my nipples, sliding along every sensitive part of my body. It was hard to believe that there were only two of them there. Yael was warm and hard against my back, and I couldn’t help but lean into him while Rome gripped my hips, sliding in and out, his pace increasing as we both lost control. I found Yael’s mouth, and reached behind me to wrap my hand around his length.
I had no idea what I was doing. Two sun-cycles ago, I would have panicked at the thought of having two Abcurses come apart in my hands, but now it felt almost empowering. Empowering enough that when Rome pulled me down onto him one more time, his teeth sinking heavily into my shoulder—and the orgasm ripped through me with enough force to kill a regular dweller—I could have sworn that some kind of actual power swelled up inside me, exploding outwards and vibrating through the water. Yael shuddered behind me, pushing himself into my hand and groaning, and then we were only a mess of limbs and gasps and shock.
What. Had. Just. Happened.
“What the fuck,” Yael groaned, almost repeating the thought that had echoed through me. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.”
Rome only grunted in response, his chest and arms were shaking slightly as he stared down at me. I groaned again as he lifted me up, slowly sliding out of my body, before he pressed a kiss onto my lips. Just a gentle press of skin, and then I was being passed into Yael’s hands. I was glad that he hadn’t set me on my feet, because I was pretty sure I couldn’t stand.
I may not have even been able to walk.
Maybe I needed one of those wheeled chairs that some of the older dwellers used when they hurt their backs after too much labour. Oh gods … how was I going to run away from Rau next time if I was confined to a wheeled chair? How was I going to explain being confined to a wheeled chair to Emmy?
“Calm down, Will.” Rome sounded partway breathless and partway amused, a rough tenor still carrying in his tone. “You just need a few clicks. Your body will … readjust.”
I buried my head into Yael’s neck, making an embarrassed sound, but really, my entire body was too satiated to feel any proper embarrassment.
“How am I going to tell the others?” I muttered against the sweat-dotted skin of Yael’s shoulder.
“Just keep it even,” he murmured. “That’s the only thing that matters.”
I nodded, and then I was being passed back to Rome again. He bundled me up against his chest, one arm hooking beneath my knees and the other banding across my back.
“Hold on,” he warned me, a micro-click before he was ducking beneath the water and taking me with him.
I closed my eyes and held my breath, loving the feel of the cool water rushing over my flushed skin, and then we were breaking the surface again. I pushed my hair back, opening my eyes to the shadow of Rome’s face that was now a little more visible. Either my eyes had adjusted better to the darkness, or else the moon was peeking out from behind the clouds overhead. He met my gaze, and stilled, his lips pulling up in a smile that matched the one I hadn’t even been aware I was wearing.
“I love you,” I found myself saying, before turning to look at Yael. “I love you both.”
And … I really need to start thinking about things before I say them.
I quickly closed my eyes and sucked in a breath. Oh, gods. This was about to get awkward. Surprisingly enough it hadn’t been awkward to this point, even though I had expected Rome and Yael would be the least okay with sharing—
A slight touch against my lips had me peeking up through one half-open eye: Yael’s face was close to mine, his thumb against my lip.
“I love you, too, Willa-toy. I don’t know what I’d do without you. Life—immortality—none of it meant anything until you tripped in and started setting things on fire.”
I opened both of my eyes only to close them again as his lips pressed to mine, soft at first, and then harder. His tongue only barely brushed into my mouth before he was pulling back, and I was being shifted in the arms that held me. Rome’s face loomed over me, his lips pressing once against mine. He didn’t seem to care that Yael had just been kissing me.
“I love you, Rocks. Never doubt it.”
It was all too much for my heart. I pressed my lips to his again and then quickly twisted out of his arms, barely managing to land on my feet. My head only just poked out of the water, and I glanced up at them both from my height disadvantage.
“Am I swimming yet?” I asked, to dissipate the tension.
Yael rolled his eyes. “And she’s back.”
“Never left, Four.”
“One.”
“Four.”
“On—”
“Alright, brat,” Rome interrupted, tugging almost playfully on a lock of wet hair that was hanging down over my face. “Let’s get you back before Cyrus shows up again and gets another eyeful of something he’s not supposed to see.”
I cringed, leading us back downstream—I moved closer to the edge, so that I would be able to spot the dark outline of our clothes against the bank, and then we were out of the water and dressing ourselves again. I felt a strange mix of lingering foreboding, grief, and pure happiness: and the volatile mix of emotions was starting to make me feel a little sick. I thought about my mother back in the cave, cooking food with the supplies Cyrus had left, and another tug of grief pulled at me.
“She never would have been caught dead cooking me an actual meal,” I told the others, surprised that I was suddenly willing to talk about my mother. “Emmy used to do all the cooking—and before that, she would just bring back leftover scraps from the tavern.”
“We’re going to make him pay,” Rome promised quietly. “Whatever he wants from you, he
’s not going to get it. He’s been trying to mess with us for decades—”
“Decades?” I broke in. “How old are you all, exactly?” It felt almost absurd to be asking that question after everything we had just done.
“Almost a hundred life-cycles,” Rome answered. “And for almost a hundred life-cycles, Staviti has failed to take us down. He’s about to find out that it’s just as hard to reach you as it is to reach us.”
“He’s about to find out that you’re not just a tool to hurt us,” Yael added. “You’re one of us.”
“He’s about to find out what it feels like to have my knee in his Sacred Balls,” I tacked on.
“That’s our girl,” Rome grunted, clearing the entrance to the cave and stepping aside for me to go in first.
Coen was sitting against a rock, his back up against the wall of the cave and his hands folded behind his head. His eyes levelled on me as I came in, flicking over my wet clothing and the loose pieces of grass stuck to my damp legs. His examination extended out to Rome and Yael for a moment, but quickly returned to me, his face remaining expressionless. I felt a small tug of guilt, but I wouldn’t let it gain any traction. That would ruin us. I needed to focus on keeping things even. I walked up to him, positioning myself directly between his legs, my arms looping around his neck as I wrapped him in a soft hug.
“Thank you,” I whispered, just for him.
He returned my hug, pulling me into his body, and I could feel the tension draining out of him, as easily as that.
“You should eat,” he finally said, pulling back.
I glanced around, searching out my mother; she was standing by a fire that she most definitely had not built—unless Staviti had also reprogramed her with basic wilderness survival skills—and she was stirring something in a small, cast-iron pot. Siret and Aros were sitting close to the main fire, their heads still leaned a little toward each other as though they had been in the middle of a private conversation when we had walked back in. They both watched me, their expressions as careful as Coen’s had been. I walked over to them while Rome and Yael moved to the crate, rummaging around inside it for what looked like several bundles of coloured robes. That spurred me a little faster in Siret’s direction, and I quickly seated myself between the two of them. I had a feeling that Cyrus had only packed god-clothes in the crate, and if he thought that I was the Chaos Beta, then he would have definitely packed red robes for me, and there was no way that I was changing into a pair of red, Chaos robes. Nope. No way.
“What’s she making?” I whispered, as Siret and Aros seemed to relax a little more, planting their arms behind them, their palms flat against the blanket they were sitting on, so that an arm from each of them crossed behind me, forming a wall of muscle for me to lean against.
We all turned toward my mother, who was still happily stirring away.
“Water, by the looks of it,” Aros whispered back.
“What?” I asked, a little too loudly.
My mother looked up, noticed me for the first time, and then went back to what she was doing. Well now that was a little more like the old mum.
“She poured some water in there, propped it over the fire, and she’s been stirring it ever since,” Siret informed me, a small smile on his lips. “I don’t think she knows how to cook.”
“What about all the ingredients?” I asked, glancing over at the crate again. “Didn’t Cyrus send over a bunch of food?”
Siret shifted, reaching into his jacket as Rome and Yael approached the fire—now dressed in coloured robes.
“Here,” Siret sounded apologetic. “That’s all we could salvage. She ate the rest.”
He was holding out half a carrot and a small chunk of bread with a little wedge of cheese stuffed inside. The cheese actually still had teeth-marks in it. I looked from the food to the robed Abcurses, and couldn’t seem to decide which image was funnier. Rome was dressed in a deep, royal blue, a hint of his massive chest left bare as he spread out another blanket and sat on the other side of the fire, his glittering eyes locked onto me. Yael was in a dark, forest green—a shade darker than his eyes. His wet hair had been pushed haphazardly back from his face, but a few strands were still falling forward into his eyes.
“Do you both wear those things all the time in Topia?” I asked, trying to keep the amusement from my voice.
“Try not to be too impressed,” Rome grumbled.
“There’s a robe in there for you, too,” Yael told me, ignoring the question completely.
“Is it red?” I asked, finally taking the food from Siret and nibbling on the end of the carrot. I was starving, but there was still too much frazzled energy bouncing around inside for me to be able to easily digest any food.
“Yes.” He glanced up, the fire flaring up between us and momentarily obscuring the look of wicked amusement painted across his beautiful features.
“Figures.” I sighed, stuffing a whole bite of the carrot into my mouth and breaking it off. “Cyrus has one hell of an agenda. I won’t be wearing it, by the way. In case you were wondering.”
Aros grinned, before tilting his head toward Siret. I was just worrying about what those two had cooked up when Siret reached out and touched my arm. I felt the familiar ruffle of clothing being changed. The material that had been slowly drying against my skin was being replaced by a slide of silk, a burst of gold flashed before my eyes, and when Siret removed his hand, I was dressed in a beautiful golden creation.
Jumping to my feet, I did a quick spin, taking in the entire outfit. The hem was all different lengths—not as long as the dresses from Siret and Yael, but still past my knees. In fact, it seemed as though the entire dress had been made up of different lengths of silk. It was comfortable, smooth, soft. I could have slept in it just as easily as I could have fought in it.
I loved it.
“It’s time you wore my colour,” Aros said smoothly, his eyes running down the length of me.
When I stepped closer, he reached out and gripped a section of delicate silk from the top of the gown, tearing it off in the blink of an eye. I dropped my head to see what he’d done, surprised to see a band of bare skin poking through the top. The dress was so free and flowy, it was almost as good as being naked.
I leaned in closer and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I love it.”
Eighteen
After my meagre serving of dinner, I had to convince my mother to stop stirring her pot of water. She’d been at it for several rotations and wasn’t showing any signs of letting up.
“Mu—Donald?” I sidled up to her, peering into the pot. Most of the water had evaporated by now. “Do you think we could maybe stop stirring now?”
Siret and Aros were still sitting together, talking quietly—they had first ‘watch’ over the cave, while the others were trying to catch some sleep. I glanced over to them while my mother paused in her stirring, and Siret looked up and winked at me. I tried not to smile, but it was pretty hard to not laugh at the things that Siret found funny.
“It hasn’t turned into soup yet, Sacred One. We must wait. Patience is an acceptable trait in such lowly beings as those tasked with serving the Great Staviti, our benevolent and wise Creator of All Things.”
“You lost me at soup,” I admitted. “When you speak too formally like that I tend to give up in the middle somewhere.”
She stared back at me blankly.
“Oh-kay.” I drew out the word. “Let’s try this again: can you please stop stirring?”
“The Sacred Ones do not wish to have soup?” Cue small, mechanical-sounding gasp.
I gestured around the cave. “Most of the Sacred Ones fell asleep half a rotation ago.”
She stopped stirring completely then, her spoon clattering against the edge of the bowl. “I see. I will now become Silence.”
I blinked. “You’ll what?”
She didn’t reply, but turned and walked back to the crate. She lowered herself to her knees, folded her hands neatly in her lap, and close
d her eyes.
“Hey.” I walked over to her, waving a hand in front of her face. “Donald? What the hell?”
She was as still as a rock; there wasn’t a single twitch behind her closed eyelids, and there was no rise and fall of her chest to indicate breathing of any sort. I wasn’t actually sure whether the servers still had those functions, since I’d never actually thought to check … but it was clear that my mother didn’t have them—at least in that moment.
“What happened?” Aros asked, appearing beside me, his eyes on my mother. He didn’t look surprised.
“What’s she doing?” I asked him. “What the hell does becoming Silence mean?”
“It’s their version of sleeping,” he told me, now looking mildly uncomfortable. “They kind of … shut off. I don’t know how else to explain it. Most of the gods don’t allow their servers to go into Silence unless they’re upset at them.”
“Why?” I frowned, looking back to the pot that she had abandoned by the fire. Was she punishing herself?
“Because there’s always a chance they won’t wake back up again.”
I blinked, my head whipping back to my mother. I was on her in an instant, my hands grasping her arms, shaking her almost violently.
“Wake up!” I was almost screaming, so it came as no surprise when not only did her eyes pop open, but there was a flurry of movement and the swell of big bodies suddenly surrounding me.
“Greetings, Sacred One,” my mother announced, before shifting her focus to Aros. “Greetings, Sacred One.” Her eyes shifted again. “Greetings, Sacred One.” Another shift in her gaze. “Greetings, Sacred One—”
“The others are fine,” I quickly interjected. “We can just assume that the first greeting was kind of a ‘blanket’ greeting, okay?”
“As you wish, Sacred One.”
“I’m not okay with that,” Coen spoke up. “I want to be greeted.”
My mother turned to him as I rolled my eyes.
“Greetings, Sacred O—”
I quickly placed my hand over her mouth for the second time that sun-cycle. “He’s just One,” I told her quietly, “Not Sacred One.”