Braided

by Michael, Sean

  "Nah. It's dirty and falling apart. Everyone thinks it's romantic, but it's not if you live there. There's so much we take for granted on the colonies that they're struggling for back on Old Terra."

  "Yeah? I know about that some. Not as much as Pe..." Peter kicked him, hard, making him jump, mind working fast to cover his slip. "People other places do."

  That eyebrow of Bowie's went up, but he didn't press the matter. "Why body-mods?" Bowie asked instead.

  "It's where the trade corps sent me. There's a guild and everything."

  "And you, Peter? Is that where the trade corps sent you as well? Did they not want to break up the matched set?"

  Peter shook his head, hands gathering up the dishes.

  "Peter and I didn't grow up together. We were five when they separated us." Five years old and one of them went to a heaven filled with laughter and love and siblings and friends and the other went to hell.

  "And Peter doesn't like to talk about it,” Bowie suggested.

  "Peter doesn't talk about it. It doesn't matter anymore, anyway."

  That dammed eyebrow went up again. "Meaning?"

  "Meaning I found him and he's here now and the rest doesn't matter anymore." He could feel Peter's eyes on him, worried and quiet.

  "All right, relax, Paul. I can see it's a touchy subject and I don't know you both well enough to poke and prod."

  They both nodded and he got up, helped Peter put the plates away, stealing some time in the kitchen to snuggle together, stroke Peter's back and comfort them both. Bowie seemed content to give them the time and privacy they needed, settling himself on the couch and watching the vidfeeds.

  They put the dishes in the cleanser, then wandered out together. He settled in the big chair and Petey took the floor with a bowl full of little snacks for the lizards, drawing them out to play.

  His fingers explored the bonds around his cock and balls, playing idly.

  "Are you ready for a little fun?" Bowie asked.

  He nodded, getting up to step over Peter and push into Bowie's arms. Bowie purred, pushing his robe from his shoulders and sliding the large hands over him.

  "Undress me, Paul."

  He nodded, unbuttoning Bowie's shirt, fingers sliding over the broad chest, the muscled belly as he worked.

  Bowie continued to touch him, hands warm on his skin. "Do you want to join us, Peter?"

  He didn't look to see whether Peter nodded or not, just focused on stripping Bowie's pants away. When Peter's mouth slid down his spine, he gasped.

  Bowie took his open mouth, hands moving to play with his nipples. He keened softly, arms draping around Bowie's shoulders as Peter's hands tilted his hips, spreading him for that tongue. Bowie's tongue played with the stud in his mouth, one hand sliding behind him, to feel where Peter was licking him.

  He could feel Peter lapping at Bowie's fingers, then moving back to slide over his hole. He cried out into Bowie's mouth, needy and hard as stone. Bowie was purring again, the sound vibrating against his mouth, under his hands. Peter's fingers found the two rings behind his balls and tugged as the clever tongue pressed in.

  "Such a sexy pair," murmured Bowie, fingers sliding around to tease his prick.

  He pushed into Bowie's touch, only to whimper when it lost him Peter's tongue and he pressed back. The tip of Bowie's fingers teased his slit, encouraging him to push forward again.

  "Ah! Petey! Love! Scoot forward."

  Peter pushed harder and he started moving, getting both sensations he needed.

  "Is this worth the wait?" Bowie asked, licking at his lips.

  "Uh-huh. Please. More..." He gasped, staring into those pretty emerald eyes.

  "As you wish." Bowie's hand wrapped tightly around his prick, thumb teasing the tip.

  "Yes!"

  Peter's fingers twisted his rings, tongue fucking his ass and he was nothing but sensation, bright and hot and needy. The binding was released, the leather hot and soft as Bowie slid it over his cock. Then that hand was back, stroking him firmly.

  He came, jerking between them, screaming out his pleasure.

  Bowie's hands smoothed his come into his skin, petting him warmly. "Such a pretty Pet."

  He snuggled into Bowie's heat. "Feels so good."

  Bowie reached behind him, brought Peter up against his back, Bowie supporting all their weight in his arms, against his chest.

  Oh, it was warm and sweet; it eased something inside him and he didn't feel like shifting or twitching or nagging. Just being there.

  "Mmm." Bowie pet him, pet Peter and reached for a blanket, bringing it over all of them. "We'll rest a bit. Nice and quiet and together."

  He felt Peter nod against him and he closed his eyes. Resting. He could manage resting, for awhile.

  Chapter Five

  It had been an interesting week, all told.

  A new job. A new home.

  New partners.

  The massage center of the club was a dream. It was amazing what a difference treating your staff well and providing them with the best equipment made, and this was the sort of place he really enjoyed running. Hercules demanded a lot from his employees, but he gave them the best conditions to do their work under, and he paid handsomely and took care of his people.

  So the new job was a dream.

  The new home. Well, he had his own rooms, technically. Which were large and plain and quiet. Perfect.

  So the new home was also a dream.

  Bowie just didn't spend very much time there, choosing instead to live with the new partners. Peter and Paul. He'd never met twins who were so different.

  He suspected it had a lot to do with where they went after they were separated, but it was obviously a sore subject with both of them. Eventually Peter would be comfortable enough with him that he would be able to speak about it. One day when Paul was occupied elsewhere.

  Bowie chuckled. Half impatience, half over-protectiveness, Paul certainly spoke for both of them.

  They hadn't done much in the last week aside from make love together. Oh, he'd tested here and there, making Paul wait, having him suck Peter off instead of the other way around, just mixing up the dynamics a little. He suspected that until they were all comfortable with each other -- fully comfortable -- he'd keep most of the playing for their days off.

  Which meant he could start something tonight, as they had the next two days off. Excellent.

  The boys should be in already -- the body-mod shop had been closed for hours.

  He let himself in, deciding that he would let what he found guide his actions.

  He heard Peter's voice coming from one of the spare rooms, saw Paul -- with short-short cropped white hair with ice blue tips -- trying to make it into the door with a huge pair of shears. "C'mon. I'll cut it off and you can get loose. Don't be a baby, Peter."

  "N...n...n...n...no!" A few things flew through the hallway, a box of...powder? hitting Paul in the center of the chest.

  "Damn it! That stuff's expensive! Peter! Come on! That's going to fall and you’re going to get hurt!"

  "L...l...l...l...l.... Go away!"

  Then there was the sound of the door slamming and locking.

  Paul took a deep breath, then buried the shears in the wall with a soft cry. "I'm gonna go get Bowie. He's got to be off soon."

  "He's already here." He glared at Paul. "What is going on?"

  Oh, there was going to be punishments tonight. Maybe he wouldn't let either of them come until the morning they had to go back to work.

  Paul hurried over to him, grabbing his hand. "We were trying to clean up one of the spare rooms. We've been doing a little here and there and I was finishing my hair and there was a big crash and Peter's in there under a grate. Well, his hair's under a grate and all tangled and I couldn't get him out and he's wiggling and I was scared something would fall and hurt him, but he wouldn't let me cut him free and he threw honey powder at me and locked the door and I'm so mad, Bowie."

  "Mad or scared, Paul?" he aske
d gently. All right, maybe they'd get to come before that.

  The first order of the day was to get Paul calmed down.

  "Mad. Scared. I...I'm mad that he won't listen, but Bowie, he could get hurt. I'm supposed to make sure he's okay and he's not helping." Paul took a deep breath, pushed into his arms. "I'm glad you're home."

  Bowie wrapped Paul in his arms, petting gently. "We'll get him out, Paul, okay? You just need to calm down and then you'll find me the key and we'll get him out, yeah?"

  He kissed Paul, closing his eyes and not worrying about Peter, just focusing on kissing Paul slowly, carefully, deeply. Paul relaxed in his arms, trusting him, needing him. Paul had tried so hard to be strong, but the relief in his boys was palpable. They needed order.

  When the kiss ended he stroked Paul's cheek. "Do you know where the key to the door is?"

  Paul nodded. "In the deep freeze."

  Oh, he didn't want to know. "All right -- you go get it."

  Once Paul was off to get the key, he knocked on the door. "Peter? Pretty Pet, can you hear me?"

  He heard a sniffle. "Uh...uh...uh...huh."

  "Paul says you're caught, is he right?" He stroked the door as he would Peter himself, keeping his worry from his voice.

  "Y...y...y...yes. My h...h...h...h...hair."

  Paul touched his shoulder. "I found the key. It's cold."

  "Thank you, Pet," he murmured before turning his attention back to Peter behind his locked door.

  "Are you hurt, Peter?"

  "N...n...no. M...m...my head a...a...aches. I...I...I...I want out."

  Paul made a soft, worried sound.

  "Of course you do. I'm going to unlock the door now and come in to help you, all right?"

  "'Kay."

  He unlocked the door and came face-to-face with utter chaos. There were boxes and bags and stacks of cosmetics and shelf after shelf of ink. One of the shelves had toppled, knocking down the ceiling grate and trapping a very, very pink Peter between shelf and grate.

  "Oh, you are caught, aren't you? Will you let me try and free your hair, Pretty?"

  Peter blinked up at him with tear-filled eyes, trying to nod, then wincing. "W...w...want out."

  "Okay. It's all right. I like the new colors."

  He examined the mess carefully. "Paul? Will you get me the hair conditioner, please?"

  If he slipperied up Peter's hair, he was pretty sure he could get it to come away from the grate without cutting. Much.

  "Okay. Sure. What flavor? We have peach and honey and peppermint."

  He just looked at Paul, only answering when he realized the man was absolutely serious. "Peter? How do you want to smell?" What had they done without him?

  "H...h...h...h..."

  "Honey. Cool. Be right back."

  He stroked Peter's arm while they waited. "Why the honey?" he asked, looking to distract Peter.

  "P...p...peach makes me h...h...hungry. D...d...don't like m...m...m...m...m..." Peter took a deep breath. "Mint."

  "That makes sense. Speaking of hungry -- tonight's lobster night. I can't wait for you and Paul to try it. Maybe after some cuddle time, hmm? Reassure all three of us that you're all right."

  Deep brown eyes met his. "S...s...sorry. D...d...d...didn't mean to."

  Paul came back, pressing a bottle in his hand. "'Course you didn't, silly. Not even we could do this on purpose."

  That made Peter giggle, one little tear escaping.

  "He's right. No need to apologize." Bowie leaned in and stole Peter's tear with his tongue and then used the conditioner to slick up Peter's hair.

  Then he took a handful of hair, holding it near the base and tugging, making sure he wasn't pulling at Peter's scalp. Sure enough, the hair slowly slid away from the grate. All but a small portion that came apart near the ends.

  "I...i...is it w...w...w..."

  Paul nodded. "Yeah, it's working. Bowie's fixing it. Bowie's fixing it." Paul stroked his back, petting him.

  "He's right, it's working. You've lost a chunk of hair about two inches from the middle there. I'm sure you two will figure out something interesting to do with it though." He gave Peter a soft smile. "Okay, step forward carefully."

  Peter nodded, stepped forward, hair pulling free. "Oh. Oh."

  Paul nodded. "All loose."

  Peter looked over at Paul, looking devastated. "Oh, P...p...p...paulie. 'M s...s...s...s...sorr..."

  Bowie grabbed Peter's hand and backed them all out of the room, closing the door behind them. "Come on. Shower and hot sex."

  Paul nodded, hand twining with his, as they headed for the bathroom "Okay. Thank you. How was your day? How're you? We worked on two subs today."

  "You're welcome. My day was good. Which subs?" He answered Paul, but his eyes were on Peter, making sure he was all right.

  Peter stayed hidden behind bright pink hair, shaking, quiet, fingers twining together.

  "Ghost and Bry. Peter pierced Bry and then talked to Ghost while I inked him. He was scared. Peter's so good with the scared ones."

  "I don't think I've met Ghost and Bry yet." He waited until they were in the bathroom and then he grabbed Peter around the waist and pulled him in hard and tight, bringing their mouths together. Peter cried out, arms wrapping around his neck, lips parting under his kiss. Bowie pushed Peter up against the wall, taking the sweet mouth fiercely. He felt Peter melt against him, soft little sounds pressed into his mouth, Peter's cock growing hard against his belly. He pulled at Peter's clothes, hips pushing Peter into the wall again and again, giving Peter something to let his fear and upset out on.

  Peter rubbed harder, faster, clinging onto him, sobbing low. "M...more. More. P...please."

  He pulled his Peter's pants off, barking out an order to Paul. "Lube him up, Paul."

  "Yes, Bowie." In only seconds, Paul was kneeling beside them, lube in hand. "Open up for me, Petey. Let me in."

  Bowie got his own pants open and then grabbed Peter's legs, pulling them up and apart. Peter cried out, head falling back, body taut and shuddering as Paul pushed slick fingers inside.

  He opened his mouth around Peter's neck, sucking up a mark. "Hurry, Paul, I want him."

  A slick hand slid over his prick. "Ready. God. Bowie, he's ready."

  "Good."

  He pushed forward, angling Peter, pulling Peter onto his cock, trusting Paul to make sure they were lined up properly.

  Peter groaned for him, hot and tight and clenched around him. Those pretty eyes were wide, full lips open and swollen. "Oh..."

  "Oh, gods. So pretty..." Paul sounded stunned.

  He groaned, pushing in, pushing deep. "Gonna fuck you hard, Peter."

  Peter nodded, gasping. "P...please."

  "Good." He pulled out and slammed back in again, Peter's back thumping against the wall. He did it again and again, fucking Peter, letting Peter have it all.

  Peter took him in and in and in, riding him furiously, pink skin flushing dark. He just let go and fucked Peter as hard as he could, the two of them just wild.

  "Bowie!" Peter squeezed his cock hard enough that it hurt, come spraying between them, an answering heat splashing on his calf.

  He waited until Peter's ass released its death grip on his cock and then jerked in a couple more times and came hard. He leaned against Peter, breathing heavily. Peter held on tight, nuzzling and panting against his jaw.

  Paul stood, breath shaky. "I'll start the water."

  "Come here first."

  He turned his head, kissing Paul. "Thank you."

  Paul blinked. "What for?"

  "Helping. Starting the shower. Not questioning me."

  "Oh." He got a warm, pleased grin, Paul almost preening under the praise. "You're welcome."

  He chuckled, turning back to Peter, nuzzling and then licking the soft lips. "You all right, Pretty Pet?"

  Peter nodded, blinking slowly, face relaxed. "Y...yes. Thank you. G...g...good to me."

  He hummed. "My pleasure, Peter."

  He pulle
d out, letting Peter down and helping him to the shower.

  His Pets were relaxed, easy, hands sliding over him, petting him, washing him. Such excitable, passionate men. He was starting to understand them though, figuring out what made them tick, what worked.