Chapter Text

READ FIRST / AUTHOR NOTE

1. My goal is to write an entry everyday for Kinktober 2025. I will try my best but life happens. I am starting a new job this month, so I may have to skip days. (or I may be a day behind)

2. My entries will feature queer characters. Some are out, some are not. Each prompt will determine how I write them. If you don't like queer fiction, then move along.

3. My entries are CEST, meaning brother/brother/uncle. Full blood incest. Don't read my entries if that offends you.

4. Actual sex will happen. It may not happen every entry, but sex will happen. How that sex looks will depend on the characters, the situation, and the prompt.

5. With most of my writing, I am usually focused on the anticipation of intimacy first. This means my first few entries may not have much sex. I know I'm harping on the sex. I'm just trying to set expectations, babe.

6. My writing entries will center on three men.

Brothers:
-- Patrick Vaughn, 27. He's the responsible one. Working toward his PhD in Applied Physics. To make ends meet, he’s a manager at a night club. He’d like to be in a relationship, but doesn’t have much time.
-- Rowen Vaughn, 25. He's a free spirit but he also has a deep soul. Aspiring musician who sees life through his lyrics. Bartender at the same night club his brother manages. Rowan does not understand monogamy.

Their dad's younger brother (their uncle):
-- Darcy Vaughn, 45. He's a former Navy SEAL who likes animals a whole hell of a lot more than people. He runs a no-kill animal shelter. Quiet, reserved. He doesn’t let others get close.

Yes, I'm partial to brocest and unclecest. Sue me.

7. At the start of all this, they have not done anything at all. Like, they've never even thought of the other romantically/sexually. My writing will EXPLORE what this looks like when they discover/act upon these new feelings. The kinktober prompts should make it interesting.

8. I do not see writing actual violence. Just not my usual style, but like I said, if the prompt needs something, I may go in that direction.

9. Obviously expect errors, grammar issues, and inconsistent details.

10. Expect CNC, dubcon, and other iffy situations. It's KINKtober. (edit: 10.17.25 - scratched out CNC and dubcon since I do not think the story will go in that direction. I'm using the prompts more for a theme/direction for each chapter.)

11. For readers who are familiar with my Arcane Falls series, these characters are not part of that universe, though I think I'll set this in Onyx River (the town next to Arcane Falls). If my kinktober entries end up cool as shit, I may repackage it and draft a short story for an Oynx River entry. It's not a specific goal, but hey, anything could happen.

12. I plan to have fun. Hope you have fun reading it! Check tags/warnings first. I will add tags as I go.

13. Lastly, animals are featured in my story. No animals are ever harmed in any of my stories. They get hugs and scritches and lots of treats.

xoxo

Chapter Text

Prompt: TEXT

POV: Patrick Vaughn (27)

It was three in the morning when I finally ushered the last group of party goers into a taxi and locked the front door of Onyx River’s night club.

We hosted a rowdy engagement party tonight. The only thing worse than one drunk guest was thirty drunk guests. They didn’t listen for shit.

With the night over, I could finally head home and get a few hours of sleep.

I stifled back a yawn when someone said, “About time, Patrick.”

Looking over, I spotted my younger brother Rowen casually leaning against the brick wall like some kind of Hollywood heartthrob.

Confused, I said, “I thought you had a date.”

Rowan was a bartender at the same night club, but he left early when he couldn’t resist a cute guy’s shy smile.

“I did.” He lit a cigarette and took a long drag. Blowing out a smoke ring, he added, “It wasn’t a long date.”

The action caused the rings adorning his fingers to glitter under the humming lamppost. It was mid-July, so summertime bugs swarmed beneath the yellow light.

We walked to my truck.

“You left three hours ago. Why didn’t you come back? I could have used your help and closed early.”

My brother slid into the passenger seat as I started the engine and pulled out of the empty parking lot.

“Inspirational lyrics came to me,” Rowen said. He rolled down his window to let out his cigarette smoke.

I was tired, so my words came out snappish and accusatory. “We’ll be lucky if we get four hours of sleep, Ro. Uncle Darcy is expecting us at the animal shelter by nine.”

Rowen shrugged. “A true artist doesn’t require sleep.”

“Yeah, but I do, and Uncle Darcy is counting on us.”

I glared at my brother. It was unfair how Ro always looked rested even as he emitted his signature seductive “you can’t tame me” expression combined with a waif-like “starving artist” vibe.

Case in point, Rowen was stylishly disheveled in ripped jeans, beat up Chuck Taylors, and a threadbare white T-shirt beneath his black leather jacket.

Add in his messy dark locks and a scruffy jaw, and Rowen was catnip personified. I’d seen plenty of guys attempt to lock him down. It never went well for them.

“I have no intention of letting Uncle Darcy down,” Ro said. “I’ll just look better than you while doing it.”

“Probably,” I said with a laugh as I drove through downtown Onyx River. Population 1,131. While the northern Maine mountain town wasn’t large in terms of population, it covered several thousand acres, to include its namesake, the Onyx River. “I take it you wrote something meaningful?”

The moon hung high in the sky and it cast an illustrious glow over the tops of tall pine trees.

Ro grinned at me. “Lyrics for the chorus came to me as my date gagged on my cock. Blew my load down his throat and sent him off with a happy little smile.”

I pulled into our driveway and shook my head.

“It’s my own fault for asking,” I said with a snort. Ro had zero qualms with oversharing details of his hook-ups. “But I’m glad you worked out the chorus.”

I unlocked the front door of our small bungalow house. We rented it from our parents after they moved to France last year.

Thankfully, they offered it to us well below market value. Ro and I were broke as shit. I was back in school as a PhD candidate in Applied Physics.

And Rowen… well, he was a dreamer and an old soul focused on jumpstarting his songwriting career.

Sadly, daydreaming didn’t earn a salary, so was a bartender.

So when Rowen said inspiration hit him, I already knew he’d end a hook-up early if it meant lyrics he’d been searching for finally materialized in his head.

That said, anytime he could make me feel even slightly uncomfortable, he jumped at the opportunity. I suppose that’s what younger brothers were meant to do.

“My hook-up thought you were cute, Patrick. When I told him you also liked dick, he offered to suck you off. I gave him your number. You’re welcome.”

I groaned. “I’m tired of you giving out my number.”

We left the lights off as we toed off our shoes. We’d part ways for our respective bedrooms.

“Why even have a phone unless it’s to sext with hot guys?” Ro argued.

I opened my phone and sure enough, there was a text from an unknown number. I deleted it without even looking at it.

“First of all, stop saying the word “sext.” It’s cringe. Second, you know I don’t do random hook-ups, and third, I don’t have time.”

“We’ll get you laid at some point, Patrick.” Rowen was swathed in shadows, but I didn’t need to see his face to know he was wearing a shit-eating grin.

“Please stop your weird matchmaking efforts.”

My phone dinged again.

“The guy is persistent,” Ro added. “I’ll give him that. His blowjob skills are pretty good.”

I looked down at my phone.

“It’s not from him,” I said. “It’s from you.”

Rowen didn’t even have his phone out.

“Huh?” Rowen stood beside me so he could look down at my phone. “I didn’t send you anything. Open it.”

The text was a video. I didn’t need to press play to know it was a video of two men having sex. The person holding the phone was riding the other guy’s cock.

From the angle you couldn’t see faces.

“Ro, did you accidentally text me a video from one of your hook-ups?” I asked. “I’m not going to play this.”

He grabbed my phone before I could delete the entire text.

Ro made a choking sound at the back of his throat. “I do not make videos, Patrick. Ever. And neither of those guys are me. But I’m kinda curious. The tattoos on his chest look familiar. Press play.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

The muscular man’s arms, stomach, and chest were covered in tattoos. It took me a second to realize I actually recognized the designs.

When I didn’t move, Rowen clicked on the video.

“Your ass is so good, Patrick,” the man said. The second man’s cock bounced with the movement. The cockhead was shiny with precum. “Are you going to come on your uncle’s cock like a good boy?”

“Yes, Uncle Darcy,” the other man said on a moan.

The video ended after that.

My stomach dropped. That was Uncle Darcy’s body. His tattoos. And that was my voice.

“What the actual fuck?” I said to Rowen. My voice was an octave higher. “I’ve never— Who did this?” I was going to throw up. I looked at my brother. “Is this your idea of a joke, Rowen?”

“I swear to god I had nothing to do with it.”

“It came from your phone number!”

Rowen dug out his phone and checked his text messages. None of this was on his phone.

“I… I can’t explain that part. Maybe it came from a spoof number. But, um, Patrick…” Rowen trailed off. “You and Uncle Darcy, though?”

“You’re kidding, right? I have never fucked our uncle, Ro. Never even thought of that kind of shit. Jesus, do you even need to ask?”

“I know. I know. Sorry. It’s just, well… it looked like you were enjoying riding his cock. How big is it?”

“Rowen—”

“And let’s be honest and admit that Uncle Darcy, a former Navy SEAL, is jacked and stacked.”

I took a deep breath. “Think about it, Ro. Uncle Darcy is a huge introvert and the most reserved person we know. He lives off the grid and he rescues animals to avoid people. We are the only to people he talks to on a regular basis. He wouldn’t do anything like this.”

“No, I know,” Ro said. “It makes the video even stranger. Plus, you’re a huge prude.”

“I am not a prude.”

“And Uncle Darcy is shy as hell.”

“I don’t see him doing anything like that,” I said. “Do you?”

“No,” Ro agreed. “Let’s watch it again.”

“Rowen!”

“For clues…”

He opened the video again and I ignored my growing erection. This was the weirdest night of my life.

At the very end of the video, just before it cut off, another hand appeared on right hand edge of the screen. It was just the glimpse of a few fingers, but it proved the existence of a third person in the room.

Rowen was silent for a long moment.

“I can’t explain any of this,” he said. “But my mind is going crazy.”

I didn’t even want to know what that meant.

“It’s late and we have to get up early. Let’s discuss it in the morning when we’re both less tired.”

Rowen didn’t look like he wanted to give up the topic, but it was late.

“Night,” he said.

Once we were back in our own rooms, I watched the video again.

All I could think about was the hunger I heard in my voice as well as Uncle Darcy's voice.

Chapter Text

Prompt: SERVICE

POV: Uncle Darcy (45)

There was no way else to put this, but my nephews were acting weird.

As I crouched down to scoop up one of the animal shelter’s newest additions—an extremely tiny dog that was in desperate need of a bath and a meal—I overheard Rowen whisper to Patrick, “Have you asked Uncle Darcy about it yet?”

“Cool your jets, Ro,” Patrick said. “I gotta find the right time.”

It was just the three of us in the dog kennel bay. I turned in their direction but they avoided my gaze.

Normally this wouldn’t bother me. The boys routinely bantered back and forth. They’d even bring me into their verbal sparing. But Rowen had asked the same question three times in the last hour. Small knots of worry formed in my stomach.

Ask me what?

I felt certain something was terribly wrong, but Patrick and Rowen were taking turns spraying down the dog kennels—and each other in a decidedly playful fashion. I was probably worrying for nothing. I’d spent the better part of my adult life dropping into remote locations to
extract hostages when I was a Navy SEAL. I could deal with whatever my nephews wanted to talk about.

I just had to get through today first.

I was hosting my monthly pet adoption event at one this afternoon. It was open to the public and my nephews were here because they knew I’d sooner gnaw off my own arm before interacting with the local news media. Or talk to perfectly nice people who drove all the way to my
animal sanctuary on the mountainside to adopt a pet.

Rowen would go in front of the camera and charm the viewing audience into adopting a pet they didn’t even know they needed. Patrick, along with one of my front office staff, were the professionals who assisted new adoptees with all the necessary paperwork and pet care instructions.

I liked to stay behind the scenes by dealing exclusively with the animals. Part of me wished I could keep all the animals. I took in almost everything, from horses to dogs to snakes. But I didn’t have enough room, and honestly, it warmed my heart when we found forever homes for my fur-friends.

Just like the light-as-a-feather dog in my arms. I read her name tag. Glenda. Unfortunately, her elderly owner passed away and animal control brought her to me since there was no next to kin.

Glenda barked and frantically licked at my beard. “No scraps there, cutie,” I said when her sharp teeth nibbled my beard.

Given her shaggy state, I couldn’t be sure of her age. She might even be a puppy. I’d know better once she was cleaned up and fed.

I placed her in one of the utility sinks I used to wash the smaller dogs and lathered her up with medicated shampoo.

Glenda emitted half-hearted yips while trying to jump out. Her curly white coat was a tangle of knots and tangles.

“Just a few minutes more,” I told her, “and we’ll get you back to your pretty girl status.”

Once finished, her little claws tapped and scratched against the sides of the tub, but she was too small to escape. I snuggled her in a towel and dried her as best as I could before I placed her in a clean kennel.

Glenda was a damp poof ball as she ran straight for the small bowl of dog food.

Patrick came to stand beside me as I latched the kennel door. He was drenched with water. Rowen must have gotten him good.

“Poodle chihuahua mix?” Patrick asked.

“I think so,” I said. “She’s a cute thing. Sweet, too. Probably won’t be able to adopt her out today since she still needs to see the veterinarian.”

“She’s hungry.” We watched for half a minute while Glenda scarfed down everything in her bowl before attacking the water dish with gusto. “How long was she alone before they found her?”

“A few days,” I said. “With lots of TLC, I’ll get Glenda back to her princess self.”

“You do have a way with wounded animals, Uncle Darcy. They seem to trust you implicitly.”

Patrick ran a hand through his dark, wet hair. It was glossy under the florescent lights. I looked away.

Clearing my throat, I said, “I’ve got fresh towels in the back if you need one.”

“That’d be great,” Patrick said. “I needed to ask you something as well.”

And… there went my peace of mind.

My heart thudded as I walked Patrick to the rear of the shelter.

Some might view my work as community service, but Patrick and Rowen were family and had stepped up to support me ever since I separated from the Navy. I honestly didn’t know how I’d operate without them in my life.

When they showed up this morning, Patrick was dragging like he hadn’t slept a wink. I knew the club he managed could get busy at night, so I understood the circles under his eyes when he walked into the animal shelter this morning.

With Rowen, though, I’d always considered him a unique bird who wanted to be petted and sung to, but never caged. He was the kind of pretty boy you wanted to fawn over while making him a double decker sandwich. The kid was too skinny, if you asked me, sort of like Glenda.

I grabbed a towel from one of the top shelves in the storage room and watched as my nephew used it to dry his hair.

When he looked at me, his expression was one I couldn’t read. Trepidation? Nervousness? Fear?

What was the kid worried about?

“You mentioned you wanted to ask me something?” I asked. I couldn’t take the waiting. I already had too many ulcers. I didn’t need more.

Patrick rubbed the back of his neck and inspected the back room. I got the impression he wanted to make sure we were alone.

“There’s no good way to bring up this topic, Uncle Darcy, but someone sent me a video that’s pretty damning.”

I sat with that for a few seconds.

“Do I need to confront someone for you?”

My nephews knew my military background. I wasn’t keen on using my lethal skills, but if someone messed with my family, I’d be first in line to teach them a lesson.

“No,” he said on mumble. “Or rather, I don’t think so. The video is, well…” He looked like he wanted to run from the room. “It’s sexual in nature.”

My first thought was that someone from Rowen’s past leaked a video. I was about to ask when Patrick continued.

“It’s a video of you.”

That took me aback.

“I’m sorry, what? Me? That’s impossible, Patrick. I don’t even have a camera. Or a cell phone.”

I was totally off the grid, except for the communications I needed to run the animal shelter.

I didn’t want to the world to intrude on my newfound peace. Society could go fuck itself for all I cared. Just leave me and my animals alone.

“That’s the thing, Uncle Dar. I think the video was taken with someone else’s phone. Have you been intimate with someone recently?”

“Patrick,” I said with feeling. “I don’t understand. I believe you know me pretty well. You and Rowen are the only people I really interact with. Well, you and the vet and the young lady who runs the shelter’s front desk. There’s no fucking way the video is of me doing anything with anyone.”

Patrick took a fortifying breath.

“It’s probably best if I just show you the video. I can’t explain it.”

My nephew handed over his phone and I pressed play.

And my world turned upside down.

Chapter Text

Prompt: CONTROL

POV: Darcy (45)

With Patrick’s phone in my hand, I almost didn’t know what I was watching, but I needed to control my emotions.

The video was short but erotic. The camera was aimed downward, so I had a clear view the smaller man’s leaking dick while he rode the cock of a heavily tattooed man.

It felt like a huge invasion of privacy to stare at the man’s dick, so I focused on the tattoos adorning the bigger man’s chest.

And my eyes went round at what I saw.

Patrick wasn’t lying to me. I’d designed those tattoos myself, so that’s how I knew there was more to the video than what we were seeing on the surface.

My eyes roamed over military emblems. A constellation of stars with the names of SEALs who died beneath stars. There was a grayscale grim reaper whose cape was a fabric clock. Zeus was on one shoulder while a blood red rose gleamed on the other. The right forearm displayed a pair of angel wings above the word “Regency,” which was my Navy call sign.

As the video played on a loop, I couldn’t breathe as I heard what sounded like my own voice. Then Patrick’s voice.

I’d never said such words in my life. I didn’t think I’d ever sounded like that before, either. Aroused. Turned on. Carefree. I looked like a man having a good time.

What must it feel like to be carefree? To have sex with someone without freaking out about it?

None of this made sense.

Pausing the video, my heart dropped when I zoomed in on a knife scar on my ribs. Two months ago, I made the mistake of going into a bar to watch a Bangor Bobcat’s hockey game. The team made it to the first round of the Stanley Cup finals. When I left the bar that night, someone jumped me and stabbed me in the ribs with a pocket knife. It wasn’t a deep wound and I sutured my cut myself when I got home.

No one in the world knew about that puckered scar, not even my nephews.

So how in the fucking world was there a video of me with a scar that no one knew about while having sex with my oldest nephew when nothing of the sort had ever happened?

It felt like a fist was squeezing around my chest. Fuck. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. My heart thundered frantically in my ears.

The video cycled through several times before I felt a hand on my shoulder.

I jumped and almost dropped the phone.

“Sorry, Uncle Darcy,” Patrick said. He quickly removed his hand. “I forgot about the no touching thing.”

He took a step back, but Patrick’s amber colored eyes never left my face as he collected his phone from my shaking hand.

“I don’t understand,” I said. My words sounded like they were coming from far away. “Where did the video come from?”

Just then someone else entered the storage area. I was on edge, but thankfully it was just Rowen.

He approached cautiously before standing next to his brother. He’d changed into fresh clothes. That meant the local news station would be here soon. Rowen looked like a rockstar with his dark hair slicked back.

“I just showed Uncle Dar the video,” Patrick said to Rowen.

“Pretty bizarre, huh?” Rowen said. “Someone texted it to Patrick after we closed the night club.”

Patrick explained how the video came from what appeared be Rowen’s phone number, but it didn’t.

“It’s obviously an AI generated video that came from a spoof phone number,” Patrick said. I couldn’t tell if he believed that or if he was trying to convince himself. “Technology today can mimic our voices and if they use current pictures of us, they can create realistic videos from that.”

Patrick wasn’t wrong but I couldn’t immediately blame AI for this. Not with the knife scar present in the video.

But that still didn’t explain who made it or why.

“Damn, I was really hoping—” Rowen started before Patrick elbowed him hard in the ribs.

Patrick grunted out, “Don’t be a jackass, Ro.”

“Sorry Uncle Darcy.” Rowen rubbed his ribs. “That was rude of me.”

I wasn’t sure what he was apologizing for, but I nodded anyway.

“Have you had a recent break-up, Uncle Darcy?” Patrick asked. “Could this be revenge porn?”

“No,” I said.

“No to a recent break-up or no to revenge porn?”

“No to both,” I clarified. “Listen, I know we’re family and out of everyone in the world, you two are who I am closest to, but this isn’t something I like to talk about.” I swallowed down my nervousness. “I haven’t been intimate with anyone in almost five years.”

Patrick and Rowen looked stunned.

“Since your exit from the navy?” Patrick asked.

“Yup.”

“There’s no way,” Rowen said while motioning up and down my body. “You have a killer body, Uncle Dar. Muscles for day and let’s not forget that you’re some sort of animal whisperer. Anyone would be lucky to be with you.”

Someone like Rowen would never understand. He was a highly sexual being. Eat, breathe, sleep sex.

While I desired sex from time to time, I craved deep friendship first. Then and only then could I even begin to think about having sex.

And nine out of ten times it never went well.

Finding someone willing to be patient with me through all of that was basically a losing battle.

It was best to be alone to avoid disappointment, that way I could control the outcome.

“That’s kind of you to say, Rowen,” I said, “but my physique has nothing to do with it. Bottom line, the video isn’t from an angry ex.”

Patrick shook his head like he was still trying to digest everything. “Technology can conduct age progression if the user had an older photo of you.”

He was reaching for any explanation, not that blamed him.

“And you’re suggesting this person has an older photo of me and both our voices?” I asked with meaning.

“Maybe…” Patrick didn’t sound so sure anymore.

“We need to look at this from another angle,” I said. “Who would send you a video of something that’s hasn’t actually happened? Not only that, but why? Is it a message? A warning? A threat?”

“We were hoping you’d have answers,” Rowen said. “While the idea of you two boning is incredibly hot, I still have to assume it’s AI.”

That took me aback.

“Wait, what?” I said. I braved a glance at Patrick. His cheeks turned pink. “Both of you thought it was hot?”

That was so foreign to me. When I watched the video, it felt like I was violating both men’s privacy, even if one of them was supposed to be me.

I was uncomfortable, not aroused.

“I didn’t say that,” Patrick said quickly. “That’s all on Rowen.”

Rowen snickered. “Way to throw me under the bus, big brother.” He turned to me. “Patrick had the biggest boner last night.”

“Shut up,” Patrick groused out.

That surprised me even as a newfound thought about the origins of the video entered my brain.

“Please stop arguing,” I said. I held up my hand. My nephews had the grace to look sheepish. “Play the video again.”

Patrick looked confused, but he did as I asked. Even Rowen was quiet, which was a rarity.

“Pause it,” I said and then I pointed to a certain area on the video. “Zoom in right there.”

Patrick’s screen was a larger image of my knife scar.

“That,” I said, “is a scar I received two months ago.” My nephews looked startled. “No one knows about. No doctor. No friend. No lover. No one. Do you understand?”

They were silent but then Rowen asked, “That means this video wasn’t taken from an older photo.”

“Correct,” I said. “But I still think the video is authentic. I don’t know where it came from, or why. We need to figure that out, but it’s a real video of me. Of us.”

“I don’t understand, Uncle Darcy,” Patrick said. “I’m in the video as well and you know as well as I do that this never happened.”

I lifted an eyebrow.

But they seemed to sense the direction of my thoughts. Sometimes life was stranger than fiction.

“It hasn’t happened yet,” I said. “Because the video is from the future.”

Chapter Text

Prompt: PHOTO

POV: Rowen (25)

My mind was in a tizzy for the rest of the day.

A video?

From the future?

No fucking way.

There had to be some other explanation.

That was the only thing on my mind when I conducted the interview with the local news station about the animal adoption event. I held cute dogs, several meowing kittens, and even an ornery iguana in front of the cameras.

Patrick greeted potential pet adoptees, and Uncle Darcy hid out in the back of the shelter for the remainder of the event. He didn’t even tell us goodbye when it was time to leave. Uncle Darcy just texted that he’d reach out when he was in a better frame of mind.

But I didn’t retain any of it. It was like one of those old cartoons where the kids heard the adults’ voices in a whomp-whomp-whomp echo chamber.

I was going through the motions as my mind literally reeled from Uncle Darcy’s big revelation.

Even Patrick seemed wigged out. His dark eyebrows were scrunched together in confusion for the rest of the day.

It wasn’t until my brother and I were both working at the night club hours later that it felt like my senses were starting to reboot and come back online.

The club was loud, the lights were strobing, and the guests were partying hard. It was a Saturday night and I’d had countless people hit on me as I poured drink after drink.

Yet, I didn’t even flirt back once.

That meant the world was ending or I was dying, because I couldn’t recall a single day in the last ten years where I was not an outrageous flirt.

Okay, so perhaps I was being overly dramatic. Sue me. I was a musician. A songwriter. My heart strings were made up of poetry, lyrics, and achingly romantic words.

But when I was suddenly refusing quick restroom hookups with hot guys when I never used to do that before, I knew things were changing.

“You need to step up your game, Ro,” Patrick said as he pointed at my meager tip cup. “Pretty low for you.”

Clipboard in hand, he was checking the bar’s inventory to see if we needed anything restocked.

“I’m kinda having an off night,” I complained. I studied his serious face. “An off day, actually.”

“That makes two of us,” Patrick said before jotting down a few notes. Then he left the bar area to check in with the club’s other staff members.

I watched my brother walk away. I tried to look at him as if he weren’t my brother. That he was just some dude in the club.

Patrick was tall and handsome with a medium muscular build. His short brown hair was actually a shade of umber. His light brown eyes were tawny with flecks of gold. The freckles dusting the bridge of his nose reminded me of a faint constellation. And his smile, well, it was quick, adorable, and boyish.

Well fuck me sideways.

My brother was sexy.

But then I remembered everything else about him.

Patrick was like a Boy Scout. Responsible. Kind. Service-oriented. Oh. So. Serious. An academic. He liked checklists, graph paper, and scientific calculators for crying out loud.

Was Uncle Darcy his type, though? Did Patrick even have a type?

It was tough to imagine them together intimately.

But now I couldn’t stop imagining it. It played in my head on an erotic loop that said, “Choo-choo! All aboard.”

And I sure as shit wanted to hop on that train. Or rather, I didn’t want to left behind.

It didn’t feel right to lust after a scenario where my relatives were fucking. But because it was forbidden, it made the whole thing even hotter.

Incest? Who did that? And why was it between them? I mean, there was the glimpse of another hand in the video. Who was the third person in the room?

And why the fuck was I low-key jealous?

If Uncle Darcy wanted to fuck a nephew, why wasn’t I the first choice?

Listen, I know how fucked up that sounds, but out of the three of us, I was clearly the more sexual person.

Patrick wasn’t a prude even though I liked to tease him for being one. But he was picky as hell. If he went into a donut shop, he’d custom order one donut to his exact specifications.

Me? I’d order three dozen varieties because every donut was edible in my book and I couldn’t wait to taste them all.

And Uncle Darcy?

Oh man. Turns out he wouldn’t even set foot in the goddamn donut shop.

Growing up, Uncle Darcy was more or less this heroic figure to me. He was always away on some military mission after another. We were lucky if we even got to see him during the holidays.

To everyone else, Senior Chief Petty Officer Darcy Vaughn was a badass, motherfucking Navy SEAL who either rescued hostages or took out “the bad guys.” Or he did both at the same time.

To us, he was our quiet uncle with an intensive gaze that seemed to peer straight to your soul. I remember shaking his hand once when I was a kid. I had no clue it would be a big deal, because that was the first and last time I’d ever touched him.

I was nineteen years old when he retired from the military. Uncle Darcy bought a dilapidated mountain property, turned it into an animal sanctuary, and did his upmost to avoid every other human in existence.

Well, except for me and Patrick, and our parents, before they moved to France.

Five years of no sex.

Five fucking years!

But the more I thought about it, and about Uncle Darcy’s personality, the more it made sense. I just couldn’t see him doing casual sex, though there’d totally be a line wrapped around the night club if he started taking numbers.

Not that he’d even consider something like that.

There was something vulnerable and sad behind the military heroic image I’d built in my head.

Jesus, my mind was just all over the place. Patrick’s eyes constantly flitted over to me throughout the night. If I was freaked out, then my brother had to be panicking on a nuclear level.

When we closed the bar, we made sure all other employees made it to their cars before we locked up and sat in Patrick’s car.

“What a fucking day,” he said on a sigh. “Thank god we have the next few days off.”

The night club was open only Wednesdays through Saturdays.

Patrick didn’t start the car yet. He leaned back and closed his eyes.

“Yeah.” I rolled down the window and lit a menthol cigarette. “Who do you think stabbed him?”

“Probably some punk who wanted cash.”

“Yeah, probably,” I said, “Uncle Darcy didn’t reveal how he defended himself that night. Bet the asshole ended up with a broken jaw for his efforts.”

I felt Patrick’s stare. “You look so effortlessly cool right now,” he blurted out of nowhere. “Sitting in a dark car, lamppost behind you, hair every which way, a cigarette in your hand. Very James Dean like.”

That had to be the best compliment my brother had ever paid me.

“Take a photo if you like it so much.”

He seemed to consider that. Then he retrieved his phone, aimed, and took several photos.

“I’ll text it to you,” he said. “But I’ll edit it into a black and white image first. Mom and Dad would like it, too, I bet.”

I took another drag. “While you’re at it, text me the video. It’s not fair that you’re the only one who gets to have it.”

“Rowen, I’m not in the mood for your weird brand of jealousy.”

“It’s not weird and I’m not jealous,” I lied. “It’s not like I’m going to jerk off to it,” I lied again.

Patrick didn’t believe me but he didn’t seem to have the energy to argue with me about it. He clicked on the video. I heard Uncle Darcy’s voice again. Then Patrick’s voice.

The bed was squeaking. Was it squeaking the first twenty times we watched it last night?

“What the hell?” he said. “It won’t let me do anything with the video. I can’t save it to my phone. I can’t delete it or send it to someone else.”

“Lemme see.”

He handed over the phone without arguing. I watched the video and I felt certain it was slightly different. The angle was now more to the right. Mostly imperceptible, but it still looked different.

The words Uncle Darcy and Patrick said were the same, but the cadence was different. More breathy.

And the fucking was more vigorous.

That explained the bed squeaking.

I checked the text’s time stamp. It was the same video from last night. 3:21am.

At the end of the video, the hand came into view again. But this time, due to the new angle, I saw more of it. A unique ring on one of the fingers revealed the identity of the third person in the room.

Pleasure flooded my entire body.

“I don’t want to freak you out even more, Patrick, but the video is slightly different. And that…” I said as I zoomed in on the fingers. “…is my ring.”

“Jesus Christ,” Patrick groaned. He started the truck. “Do we both fuck Uncle Darcy?”

I didn’t think before I asked, “Would that be so bad?”

Patrick’s expression was indescribable. “Your horniness is talking right now. The video is fake. I don’t care what you or Uncle Darcy say. It hasn’t happened and it won’t happen. End of story.”

He sounded so adamant that it was difficult to challenge him.

“What if it is true?” I countered.

“It’s not,” he yelled. He took a corner too fast and jammed the breaks. Taking a deep breath, he righted the truck and accelerated at a more acceptable speed. “When we get home, text one of your regulars, Ro, and be done with it.”

That wasn’t going to happen because some random guy who’d sucked my dick before wasn’t going to cut it.

Now that I knew—or presumably knew—that me, Patrick, and Uncle Darcy would be doing the nasty sometime soon, they were who I wanted. A heat of burning desire sat low in my belly.

And Patrick was lying to himself if he didn’t admit the same thing. The way his dick was bulging behind his jeans was so obvious that the astronauts in the international space station could detect it via satellite.

But then I remembered I enjoyed every donut, Patrick liked just one donut, and Uncle Darcy liked no donuts.

How the fuck was anything of this going to work out?

And how the fuck did the existing video change?

Chapter Text

Prompt: CHAINS

POV: Patrick (27)

I practically chained myself to my desk and spent the better part of two days researching the possibility of receiving a video sent from the future.

I had a degree in applied physics not theoretical physics, but I knew that the flow of time wasn’t constant. That said, someone—or something—would have to be traveling at the speed of light for time to slow down.

Scientists much smarter than me hypothesized that time travel was theoretically possible if time was folded up like a sheet of paper with a tunnel punched through it.

But that theory was about sending particles into the future… not traveling back into the past. And because of the Big Bang, the measurement of time had one direction—forward—which meant theories regarding time travel into the past fell apart.

I considered emailing my academic committee advisor for her opinion on the topic, but she’d want to know what I was researching. And then she’d press me on why I was researching something that obviously wasn’t related to my dissertation on thermodynamic equilibrium—which was about heat and energy, and about as far away from time travel as you could get.

My brain hurt. I crumpled up my notes.

My ultimate theory was that the video was fake as shit. There… research done.

I put on an episode of Doctor Who and called it a day.

That was how Rowen found me Monday night.

“Thought you could use this,” he said as he stepped into my bedroom and placed a piping hot cup of coffee on the desk.

I paused the episode and turned on my desk lamp.

“You’re a saint, Ro,” I said as I sipped the devine liquid.

Ro sat on my bed and winked at me. “That’s not what boys usually call me.”

“Go flirt with someone else, Romeo,” I said with a chuckle.

“‘O deadly sin! O rude unthankfulness!’” he quoted dramatically from Romeo and Juliet. I knew the line because he quoted it when club patrons didn’t leave a tip.

He smiled and I rolled my eyes. At least one of us was in a good mood. He’d been out of the house all day. Who was he with?

Today he wore his prized Evanescence weeping angel concert t-shirt and a pair of black jeans that had more tears and holes than actual fabric.

I, on the other hand, wore a Bangor Bobcats hockey hoodie with a pair of threadbare sweatpants.

Rowen looked around my bedroom. He pursed his lips at the mess. My bed was unmade. Dirty clothes were in the corner. My textbooks were stacked hazardously on my desk. A half dozen crumpled sheets of paper littered the floor.

“You are normally tidier than this, Patrick,” he said. “What happened?”

“Time travel happened.”

Rowen’s eyebrows knit together. “Huh?”

“Or rather, time travel didn’t happen.” I pointed at the stack of textbooks and kicked at one of the balled up notes. “I was researching the possibility of something being sent into the past.”

“Like a super sexy video from the future?” he teased. I gave him a look and he laughed. “Okay, so you did some research. Academic research is practically your middle name, Patrick. Why does it look like you want to chuck yourself off the roof?”

“Because I got nowhere.”

Rowen bit his tongue and I had to look away from his disgustingly adorable expression.

“Okay, lemme get this straight,” Rowen said. “You’re upset because you didn’t solve the theory of time travel in…” He looked at his smartwatch. “…two days?”

That shut me up. Fair point.

He continued. “And you don’t need to solve it. We know it exists.” My phone was on the desk and he tapped it. “The proof is the video.”

“That’s not good enough for me.”

“Well, that’s not surprising,” he said dryly. “Nothing is good enough for you. And before you deny it, your standards are insanely high.”

He pushed up from the bed and invaded my personal space by wedging my legs apart and standing directly over me.

“What the hell, Ro?” I tried to slide the chair back, but the desk blocked me.

He removed the coffee cup from my hands and placed it on the desk.

“I’ll be honest with you, Patrick.” He leaned down and cupped my shoulders. I sucked in air. Fuck, he smelled good. Okay, my body really did not need to respond to this. “You’re a good-looking guy. Smart. You have a lot of common sense. You actually have beautiful eyes and I want to trace your freckles with my finger.”

“Um, what?”

My gaze moved to his mouth as he said, “And don’t get me started on the rest of your body.”

Why was I suddenly out of breath? Flecks of gold in my brother’s eyes sparkled mischievously. I should not notice those kinds of things. It had to be a trick of the light.

“Rowen…” I actually didn’t know what to say.

What was happening here? Did I research so hard that I woke up in another dimension?

My brother moved in even closer so that his mouth was at my ear. The heat from his breath tickled my earlobe. My eyelids fluttered closed.

I was hot everywhere. Thermodynamics didn’t care that Rowen was my brother.

“You push everyone away, Patrick,” he whispered. I didn’t miss the tiny hitch in his voice. He tapped my chest. “You’ve wrapped your heart in metaphorical chains.”

“That’s not true,” I protested weakly.

He clicked his teeth. “What are you scared of?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted.

Rowen stepped back, a satisfied smile governing his face. “We can work with that.”

Of course he glanced down at my crotch. Rowen’s grin grew.

The bastard.

I wish I had invented a time machine. That way I could travel back to five minutes ago to prevent my obvious erection.

“For the record,” I added, “I’m not scared.”

“No?” His tone was challenging.

“No. I just haven’t met anyone who makes me want to, you know, throw caution to the wind and live a little.”

“Actually you have met him. It’s Uncle Darcy.”

He paused long enough that I could almost hear his thoughts. It’s Uncle Darcy and me.

Because if the video was true, and if the three of us were in the same room, then it seemed highly likely that the three of us were together.

What changes between now and then to make that video even possible?

“I can’t believe I’m entertaining this,” I muttered.

Rowen, now deep in thought, shifted to the door.

“I wish we knew how far into the future the video was taken. We should start preparing now.”

“I’m afraid to even ask what that means.”

“While you’ve been tying yourself into knots over the probably of time travel, I’ve been shopping.” He cocked his head. “Come see what I bought.”

“It better not be actually chains, Rowen.”

He let out a howl of laughter. Fuck. What was I getting myself into?

I wasn’t sure if I was a saint or a sinner in that moment. All I knew was that my heart thudded in my chest as I followed my brother into his bedroom.

Chapter Text

Prompt: MIRROR

POV: Rowen (25)

When Patrick finally shuffled into my bedroom, I was posing in front of my closet door mirror and holding a skimpy outfit against my body.

My brother let out a low moan when he saw it.

The outfit in question was feminine-style male lingerie, complete with bright pink lace thong panties, a cupless bra, and a matching garter belt with shiny pink ribbons.

I knew I’d need to shake up Patrick, and jolting him out of his comfort zone would be the way to do it.

And I’d do it with defamiliarizion. Making the familiar unfamiliar.

Granted, the whole scheme could blow up in my face in a spectacularly bad fashion.

He walked deeper in my bedroom and sat down behind me in my desk chair.

Only a few feet separated us. I looked at my brother through the mirror and I found his expression unreadable.

“Thoughts on the new lingerie?” I asked.

Patrick didn’t reply as his gaze held mine for a long moment.

On any other day, he wouldn’t give two shits about me posing in front of him. I’d shown him my lingerie plenty of times. Hell, I’d told him what I’d done with other men while wearing said lingerie.

But because the video was messing with his head, he couldn’t relax.

Which meant I was absolutely fucking this up.

“Actually,” I said, “never mind. This was a stupid idea.”

I opened my closet door to shove the lingerie set back inside.

“Don’t put it away,” Patrick said. “It’s pretty.” His voice was gruff and unused sounding. He cleared his throat. “And very pink.”

Turning, I smirked at him. “Do you have something against pink?”

“No. It’s just that you usually go for dark colors to reflect your tortured, artistic soul.”

Patrick said the last part dramatically, and I chuckled.

“Oh, I’m tortured all right,” I said with a wink. I turned back around to face the mirror. I placed the lingerie up to my chest. “But maybe not in the way you think.”

He didn’t take the bait. Instead, he asked, “What’s the special occasion? Got a date tonight?”

As if other men would cut it after watching that video?

I felt sure I was setting myself up for failure.

“No date,” I said. “But I do need to try it on.”

Patrick stood. “Say no more. I’ll get out of your way.” He started for the door.

It was now or never.

Fuck, I was never this nervous. My pulse thrummed in my ears.

“I was hoping you’d help, Patrick.”

My brother stopped in his tracks. He was almost in the doorway and I watched his expressions change as I studied his profile.

Only moments ago he was sporting an erection.

Now, though, he seemed conflicted and confused. If anyone possessed a brain that was at complete odds with the rest of their body, it would be my older brother.

He didn’t move. It was like he was frozen in time.

Then he finally said, “Okay.” His voice was a whisper as he pivoted to face me. “What do you need me to do?”

I wanted to dance for joy but I controlled my emotions.

“Come stand beside me.” As he got closer, I handed him the lacy clothes. “Take the lingerie sections off the hanger for me while I undress.” Patrick literally gulped. I hid my grin. “Then you can help me with each piece. They are customizable.”

Most lingerie wasn’t difficult to put on, and the pink feminine set was no different. I could shimmy into it in no time.

But I needed Patrick to see me differently.

And this was what my brain came up with while I was out shopping today.

I felt his eyes roam over me as I tore off my t-shirt and jeans. His gaze traveled across my torso, taking in my literary quote tattoos and my nipple piercings.

But when I shucked off my underwear, Patrick was suddenly enthralled with the lingerie in his hands instead of at me.

“What goes on first?” he asked.

“The panties. You’ll need to bend down.”

I wasn’t fully erect, but my dick was an active participant.

I almost gasped when Patrick bent down to one knee. Facing him, I placed a hand on his shoulder, and he tilted his head to watch me.

God, just look at him. He was so fucking edible. And mere inches away from my cock.

My brother’s gaze was dark, stormy, and intense. There was so much I could have said in that moment, but I found myself strangely mesmerized.

In Patrick’s eyes, I was reminded of an Anne Brontë line from one of her poems.

‘For above and around me the wild wind is roaring, arousing to rapture the earth and the seas.’

As my brother looked up at me with the type of unquenched hunger only described in two-hundred-year-old poems, the world as I knew it tilted.

If I wasn’t careful, that look would be my undoing.

“Ro?” he said when I didn’t move.

“Sorry,” I whispered.

He angled the panties to allow me to step into them one foot at a time.

Then he slowly lifted the soft fabric up my thighs. His fingers scorched me and I forgot how to breathe. No touch had ever affected me like this, and it was barely a touch. Just the skim of his fingertips.

I fixed the crotch area so it properly cupped my cock and balls, as he pulled the panties up to my waist.

He continued to avoid looking directly at my lace-covered dick.

“Garter belt next?” he asked.

I didn’t recognize his voice. It was dreamy. He was someone else right now. A stranger even to himself.

Who was I in this moment?

The real Rowen Vaughn?

Or a splintered version of myself? The version that felt zero guilt in seducing his brother. The version who couldn’t wait to see what happened next.

“Not yet. The panties are loose in the back. There should be sliders on the strap to tighten it.”

Patrick made a noise at the back of his throat that I couldn’t quite interpret as he crouched behind me.

I couldn’t tell if he was alarmed or aroused.

Knowing my brother, it was probably both.

I could feel his hot breath on my lower back as trembling fingers tightened both sliders so that the panties were snug against my skin.

“Better?” he asked.

“Yes. Now the garter belt.”

Like before, I stepped into the open garter belt and Patrick lifted it up to my hips. The connecting ribbons dangled as he tightened everything.

He appeared more comfortable with the material now.

He straightened and then connected the ribbons to the o-rings, and within a few seconds the pink ribbons criss-crossed the front of my thighs.

I knew it was vain to like what I saw in the reflection, but the pink material made me feel sensual.

Patrick’s fingers traced along everything he fastened. Smoothing down the back of my legs. Around the front of my thighs. His ragged breath ghosting over my skin.

The pleasure was like nothing I’d ever experienced before. It was soft and unhurried. Languid and almost loving. Like Patrick was cherishing and then memorizing each part of me.

Maybe he wouldn’t see it that way, but that’s how it felt to me.

Now standing behind me, he lifted the bra and looked at me in the mirror. Patrick was slightly taller than me and I felt his breath at the back of my neck.

I slid my arms through the bra straps before he fastened the clasp at my back. His fingers fumbled with the hooks at first before it was secure. He tightened everything.

Then he looked at me in the mirror.

Really looked at me. It was like he didn’t know me.

His gaze wandered up and down my body. Not too fast but not too slow. I reveled in my brother’s inspection.

In fact, I felt exquisite.

With a cupless bra, most of my chest was visible, to include my nipples. I had a barbell piercing in each nipple.

Patrick bit his lip as his hands hovered over my shoulders. I could see them shaking in the mirror.

Then his fingers gently traced from my shoulders down my outer biceps.

Goosebumps traveled up and down my body. I felt hot in places I had no business in feeling hot when it came to my brother.

“Have you ever been with a man wearing lingerie, Patrick?”

“No.”

“What do you think?”

“I think you’re beautiful. I want to touch you to find out if your skin is as soft as I imagined.”

We studied each other in the mirror.

“You can.”

“But I don’t know this version of you,” he said in a way that felt way too honest. He was cutting us open on the spot. “What should I call you?”

“I’m Ro. Your Ro.”

He shook his head. “I’ve known Ro his whole life. I can’t reconcile you with him. Not right now and not like this. Not with the things that are running through my head.”

“Then call me something else.” I spun around in his arms. “What do you see when you look at me?”

He bit his lip again. “I see beauty, love, a deep longing in your eyes.” The freckles across his nose and cheeks danced as he spoke. “I almost can’t believe you’re looking at me like that. That someone as gorgeous as you might want me.”

“I do.”

“Gorgeous,” he said as he skimmed a finger across my lower lip. “That’s what I’ll call you.”

Then he leaned down and kissed me and I’d never felt more gorgeous in my life.

Here's the inspiration for Rowen's lingerie (from Fire Pony)

Chapter Text

Prompt: BITE

POV: Patrick (27)

I was kissing my brother.

I was kissing my brother.

I was kissing my goddamn brother.

“Stop thinking, Patrick,” Rowen ordered. There was an undercurrent of humor in his words. “Turn off your brain and take off your clothes.”

There was no room for debate.

Rowen’s deft hands slid beneath my hoodie and before I knew it, he pulled it over my head as we stumbled to his bed.

When I fell back on the mattress, he divested me of my sweatpants and boxers.

His actions were so quick that my erection slapped back against my abdomen on the rebound.

“I’ll stop thinking if you slow down.”

I bit my lip to keep from snorting.

For the first time in my adult life, I was naked in front of my brother.

I’d always had an inkling that Rowen was the ‘take charge’ type in the bedroom, and tonight solidified it for me.

“You would be in a hurry, too, if you just discovered how sexy your buttoned-up big brother was.” He stood at the foot of the bed for several long seconds to feast on my exposed skin. I wasn’t too focused on my appearance, but I kept myself in decent shape and manscaped. “Fuck, Patrick, you’re goddamn delectable.” My dick twitched when he licked his lips wickedly. He seemed quite taken with my dark treasure trail. “I’m going to enjoy tasting every inch of you.”

The lustful, appreciative tone in his voice made me weak.

“You are driving me crazy,” I moaned. I had just one request. “Don’t take off the lingerie, Gorgeous.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

He really was a sight to behold in his pink lingerie as he climbed onto the bed. I propped up on my elbows to watch him properly.

I was dizzy at wanting to look everywhere at once.

Rowen licked, kissed, and nuzzled my legs as he crawled up my body. I was a torrent of sensations as his stubble scratched along my skin. Waves of pleasure spread low in my belly before it raced up my spine.

We he reached my groin, he cocked his head to look me right in the eye as he stuck out his tongue and generously lapped up the precum dotting my slit.

It was like everything happened in slow motion.

“Oh god.” I threw my head back and moaned. “Your tongue is fucking amazing.”

Rowen merely offered me a devilish grin, which caused the heat swirling in my stomach to intensify.

It was the single hottest moment of my life up until that point. And I had a feeling that everything that came next would continue to topple everything that came before.

I could tell he enjoyed the art of making love. He was sensual and hedonistic.

My brother’s touches were teasing yet rough, and I reveled in the way he applied or removed pressure to heighten the pleasure. The lace added a delightful friction that was both erotic and delicate.

He seemed to know I was already teetering on the edge, so he ignored my leaking cock and continued to kiss and lick up my torso, nipping along my ticklish ribs, sucking and biting on my nipples until I cried out, and then rising up so we were face to face.

His skin was flush and his eyes glowed bright. Rowen’s body was arched like a seductive kitten, and I decided right then and there to make it my mission in life to make him purr.

He licked my lips before capturing my mouth in a searing kiss. The jolt of pleasure would have knocked me off my feet if I wasn’t already laying down.

My skin sang as my brother’s lithe body crashed on top of me. The juxtaposition of his scratchy jaw mixed with his soft and sensual lips as he claimed my mouth was something I’d been craving for so long.

When was the last time I had been kissed like this? Truly kissed by someone who wanted me as much as I wanted him?

Years?

Maybe never, actually.

“You feel so good on top of me,” I murmured into his lips. “I plan to come all over your panties.”

His erection pulsed against mine and the panty’s lacy texture rubbing against me had me gasping for pleasure as Rowen licked into my mouth.

“God, yes.”

My hands found the globes of his ass as we rutted together. The lacy panties were getting wet with our combined precum.

Ro let out these little breathy, erotic moans that put me instantly a dream-like trance. All I could see, hear, and feel was my brother.

“Fuck,” he whimpered. “You’re going to make me come so hard, Patrick.” His hands were suddenly in my hair, giving him free rein to push my head to the side to attack the column of my throat. “I need to taste you.”

He bit my neck and then sucked hard. I hissed at the pleasure-pain of my brother’s version of intimacy.

That was totally going to leave mark, which was probably Rowen’s aim. I found that I was okay with being claimed by my brother.

My fingers skimmed along the garter belt’s ribbons as I pulled my brother into me. He licked at my bruised neck, causing me to shiver.

“Now everyone will know,” Rowen said, his words drenched with possessive sin, “that someone succeeded in unravelling you.”

I smiled at him. “Are you proud of yourself?” I asked in a teasing fashion.

“Supremely.”

Growling, I said, “Get down here, Gorgeous.”

I pulled him in for another kiss. Our skin was slick with sweat as pleasure mounted between us.

We were both moaning and gasping for air, our hands moving, grabbing, squeezing.

There was already no space between us but I needed him even closer. I thrust my hips to meet his urgent rocking motion.

“Yes,” I moaned. The lacy material was starting to chafe, but I was close enough that I was willing to risk dick burn. “Fuck, Ro, I’m so fucking close. Don’t stop.”

“Come for me Patrick,” Ro said. He lifted slightly so that he could look down at our cocks. “I’ve always wanted to know what you sounded like when you came. I’ll lick it off your stomach when you explode.”

And that did it.

I came on a cry, with Rowen’s name on my lips, as cum spurted between us.

“Fu—fuck! Ro!”

My back arched violently as my brother kept rocking against me, his dick rock hard as my cock pulsed. I came in several waves until I was spent.

“Jesus that was incredibly hot,” Rowen said. He gave me a long kiss before he moved down my body.

My brain short-circuited as my brother moved my softening dick to the side to give him unfettered access to my stomach.

Then he licked up my streaks of cum, moaning as he did so.

Swallowing, he said, “Fuck you taste good, Patrick.”

My hand was in his hair as he lapped up the remainder. Then he sat up and straddled my hips before pulling the panties down behind his balls.

“Fuck,” I grunted. He was perfect. Long and narrow with a big head. I’d had glimpses of his dick before, but never like this. Never when he was fully erect and sitting on me. “You have a beautiful cock, Rowen.”

He didn’t say anything and that was when I realized his mouth was still partially filled with my cum.

He tilted his head down, opened his mouth and let the cum fall on the head of his dick.

“Oh fuck,” I breathed out on a long, gasping moan. This was so hot I feared I was going to pass out.

He took my hand, wrapped it around his cock and starting stroking.

Please don’t pass out until it’s over. Please don’t pass out until it’s over.

“Oh, god, Patrick,” he purred. “Make me come, baby.”

Rowen arched his back and rode my fist. His cock was shiny and wet with my cum and his precum. I watched as his cock slipped through my fist, the red head nearly purple.

He was silky smooth in my grip.

My free hand cupped the bra before my fingers played with the nipple piercing.

Rowen gasped and rode my fist faster. He was red and glistening with sweat and I’d never seen anyone more beautiful.

“Come all over me, Gorgeous.”

And then he was. Rowen’s moan was low before it grew loud. His rhythm fell apart and he was crying my name as white jets of cum landed high on my chest.

I loosened my grip as he thrust once, twice, three times, before he collapsed on my chest. I folded him in my arms.

His face was in my neck, inhaling my scent.

Then he was inching up and kissing me again. I could taste myself on his tongue.

“I want to taste you,” I said.

That wicked gleam was back in his eye as he dipped down to my check to lick up a long swipe of his own cum so he could feed it to me.

Rowen slid his tongue in my mouth and I sucked off his cum.

My dick made a valiant effort in getting hard again.

“Delicious,” I said. “Next time, I want you to come in my mouth so I can drink all of it.”

My brother’s smile was dazzling.

“I like the idea of a next time.”

He curled in beside me and I wrapped an arm around his back to pull him in closer. We’d need to get cleaned up soon, which was something I’d normally want to do right away, but with Rowen, I wanted to bask in this newfound feeling of togetherness.

Still, I wondered how any of this could be happening.

Brothers just didn’t sleep together. They didn’t normally have sex.

Was it all because of a video? Or was this simmering beneath the surface all along?

And what happens next?

“So…” Rowen said after a while. “You’re not freaking out like I thought you would.”

“Give it five minutes,” I said. It wasn’t a complete joke. “But no lie. That had to be some of the best sex of my life. You’re pretty incredible, Rowen. I didn’t get in my head once with you.”

“That makes me happy.” His fingers danced across my pec. “You’re incredible, too, by the way.” He paused. “Are you vers or…? Because,” he added quickly, “in the video you were, you know—”

“Riding Uncle Darcy’s dick?” I asked and Rowen snickered. “Yeah, I know. I watched the video. But to answer your question, it depends on who I’m with. I’ve been in a few relationships where penetrative sex isn’t even on the table. I like to follow my partner’s lead and of course we generally discuss our preferences up front.”

“I like to go with the flow,” Rowen said.

I kissed him on the top of the head. “You don’t say,” I joked.

“That begs the question, how does Uncle Darcy fit into any of this? You and me doing this had like one in a thousand chance of happening. But either of us—or both of us—with Uncle Darcy has to be like one in a trillion chance.”

“I don’t know.”

“Where’s your phone. I want to watch the video again.”

I laughed and pointed at my sweats.

Rowen jumped out of bed, grabbed my phone, and was back in bed before I could blink an eye.

He had my code, so he opened the text string and pressed play on the video.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Rowen said.

The video had changed yet again, but this time it was more noticeable. The time stamp was the same. The room was the same. Even the bed was the same.

But instead of two men fucking, the video was of an empty bed.

No one was having sex.

What in the actual fuck was going on?

Chapter Text

Prompt: PAIN

POV: Darcy (45)

I heard the car approach long before it became visible through the trees. While the animal sanctuary and shelter were on the lower part of the mountain property, I’d built my cabin in a clearing higher on the mountain.

It was early and I wasn’t expecting anyone as I chopped firewood with an axe.

I wasn’t a ‘mountain man’ so to speak. I was a ‘leave me the hell alone’ man. It didn’t matter where I lived, but driving up a mountain deterred most unwanted guests.

Only a handful of people could come unannounced. That included my nephews, my brother and sister-in-law, the staff who worked at the animal shelter, and the veterinarian I partnered with.

So when Dr. Jennifer Kluger parked behind my truck, with a horse trailer in tow, I knew she was here on business.

It was easy to relax my guard after that. I was actually slightly worried that it might have been Patrick and Rowen. While they’d rightfully respected my need for space after discovering the existence of that damned video, part of me was also disappointed it wasn’t them.

I put the axe down, wiped my brow, and walked down to the driveway.

“Good morning, Dr. Jen,” I said when I reached her vehicle.

“Morning, Regency,” she said as she put her sunglasses on the top of her head. “Did I catch you at a bad time?”

“Just doing chores.”

She looked over my shoulder at the axe wedged into the tree stump. Then her eyes darted to the stacks and stacks of firewood lining the cabin. Jen lifted an eyebrow.

“That’s a lot of firewood considering it’s July.”

“Can never be too prepared for winter,” I said.

Truth be told, I’d been chopping wood for three days straight. Was it a form of penance? Something to cleanse my soul? I wasn’t sure. Only that my hands were calloused and bloody and in a lot of pain.

Pain I understood. Pain I could withstand.

“If you say so, Regency,” Jen said.

She was one of the few people I allowed to call me by my former Navy call sign.

Jen was in her early fifties and the widow of my former SEAL team commander, which meant she’d known me by my call sign for years.

By the time she established her practice in Onyx River and learned my real name, I’d been “Regency” for far too long to change how she addressed me.

While I didn’t particularly enjoy being reminded of my military days, Jen’s husband, Josh Kluger was one of the bravest men I’d ever known. The worst day of my life was when he was killed in action.

I nodded toward the trailer to change the subject. “I take it you brought me a new friend?”

Her grey hair was pulled back into a ponytail and it swung side to side as I followed her to the back of the trailer.

“I sure hope so. This horse needs a very patient and steady friend.”

I peered through the open slot to find a horse adamantly pretending we didn’t exist.

“And you think I fit that bill?”

The horse canted to the side to stare out the opposite slit. He didn’t seem angry or ornery. If anything, he looked depressed.

Horses had life-sized personalities that ranged anywhere from super sweet to OMG this horse is literally Satan on four legs.

But a depressed horse meant there was a deeper issue that medicine likely couldn’t treat.

“I do.” Jen clicked her tongue as she studied the sullen horse. “And you, my animal whisperer friend, haven’t failed me in all the years I’ve known you.”

“The old boy here might not agree,” I said. “What’s his name?”

“Chronos.”

The Greek god of time?

“Interesting name,” I said.

“Yeah, but it fits, apparently,” Jen said. “Mr. Romano said Chronos has a built-in internal clock for all kinds of farm work. He’s a dependable, even-tempered horse.”

“Basically the perfect farm animal?”

“Exactly.”

The Romanos were good people who operated a successful farm on the other side of Arcane Falls.

“I take it the Romanos want to keep a valuable horse. So why are you bringing Chronos to me?”

Sadness clouded Jen’s features. “He stopped eating a week ago. His best friend was a goat named Pop Tart.” I could see where this was heading. “Pop Tart, who was an old goat, died last week. Chronos hasn’t eaten since.”

Jen and I both knew what it felt like to not eat after experiencing tragedy.

“Poor guy,” I said. “Is he drinking water?”

“Yes.”

So he hasn’t completely given up on living.

I studied Chronos’ regal profile. He was russet in color, thought his mane and tail were a lighter shade. His dark lashes framed his black, glossy eyes.

A warm breeze swished through nearby trees and all I could think was, I see you, Chronos. I understand you.

“Do you think you can get him eating again?” Jen asked.

In that moment, Chronos snorted and turned this head a fraction of an inch to get a better look at me.

A smile tugged on my lips.

If I could study him and make an assessment, Chronos was at liberty to do the same to me. It was always an equal partnership between me and the animal.

I had a small barn and paddock behind the cabin where I could temporarily stable a horse.

“Leave Chronos with me, Dr. Jen.”

Her relief was audible.

What she didn’t know was that I felt certain I needed him as much as he needed me.

Dr. Jen escorted Chronos from the trailer and we brought his gear to the barn.

After stabling him, she turned to me. “Do me a favor, Regency, and put ointment on your palms.”

I guess I wasn’t as successful in hiding the bloody scabs as I thought.

“I’ll be fine,” I said.

“That’s what you always say.” She climbed into her truck.

“And I always mean it,” I said. “I’ll call you with a progress report on Chronos tomorrow.”

She let the argument die. It was futile and she knew it.

Dr. Jen pulled away and I went inside the barn to get to know my new patient.

After lunch I heard another car pull up but I didn’t want to move from my place in the paddock. I’d been sitting on the wooden fence for close to four hours and during that time Chronos hypervigilantly stayed on the other side.

He’d been giving me every wary and skeptical look known to horse. Out of every animal, horses had the most expressive, soulful eyes.

Even though we weren’t talking verbally, we were communicating. I was telling him he could trust me and he was showing me his ass.

It wasn’t that Chronos wouldn’t let me approach. He would. I wanted him to come to me of his own free will.

In the last ten minutes Chronos had taken several steps in my direction. But when the echo of two car doors slamming shut registered, the horse’s ears flickered unhappily and I lost those hard earned steps.

Damn.

The paddock was visible from the driveway and I watched as two figures approached.

As my nephews walked toward me, a grateful feeling stole over me.

My heart squeezed with joy knowing they were here because they wanted to spend time with me.

Especially after the last few days of weirdness. They could have avoided me for a lot longer.

Patrick held a large grocery bag while Rowen carried two six packs of beer.

My nephews were undoubtedly handsome men.

Patrick was the bigger of the two—taller with a more muscular build—but he was definitely the quieter one. When he was younger, anytime I visited he’d have his nose stuck in a book.

Rowen was a free spirit who could have easily have been named Rowdy. Art and creativity flowed out of him the same way mist blanketed a field after a storm. That was to say, totally and completely.

They were so different and yet the fit together effortlessly. I was envious of that sibling connection. My brother Frederick—their father—was ten when I was born. So we never enjoyed the closeness I witnessed between my nephews.

As they came closer to the paddock fence, I put my finger to my lips. I didn’t want them to spook the horse.

Because I was sitting on the fence, I looked down at them. There was something different about my nephews. I couldn’t put my finger on it, though.

“We stopped off at the shelter first,” Patrick said softly. “They mentioned you were up here working a special case.”

Chronos’s ears flickered, as if he was trying to listen in as well. He watched the two interlopers closely.

“I’m hoping to get Chronos to trust me. He’s not eating and his owner asked for my help.” I pointed at the items they brought. “What’s all this for?”

“We had a free evening. We thought we’d hang out with you and cook dinner,” Rowen said. “Hope that’s okay.”

I almost choked up.

“That sounds great,” I said. “Make yourselves at home. I need to spend a bit more time with Chronos, but I’ll be inside in a minute to get cleaned up.”

I felt Rowen’s eyes on my palms. He sent a questioning glance my way, but he didn’t voice it.

Patrick smiled up at me as he nudged his brother’s side. “Uncle Darcy has work to do and we’re in his way.” They walked toward the back door. Over his shoulder, Patrick added, “Hope you’re in the mood for homemade pizza and beer.”

I couldn’t help but grin at their retreating figures.

When I returned my attention to Chronos, he’d moved into the center of the paddock, which was a whole hell of a lot closer than the few inches I got earlier.

He seemed to be watching my nephews as well.

Chronos stomped and snorted.

“I agree,” I said to the horse. “They are special. Pretty sure they came for a reason.”

I slid off the fence and walked to the barn.

Chronos followed and I counted that as a huge win. I offered him an apple. He sniffed it but turned his head.

“I can’t fix your broken heart, Chronos,” I said as I brushed his coat. “I know your pain well, but maybe we can help you love again. Sometimes all it takes is a little time, patience, and a steady hand.”

Chronos whinnied and rubbed his muzzle on my shoulder.

I laughed. “Yes, I’m talking about myself, too. I’m working on it.”

I thought about Patrick and Rowen in my kitchen and wondered how long it would take before they brought up the video.

It was going to be an interesting evening.

Chapter Text

Prompt: NOISE

POV: Uncle Darcy (45)

I spent longer in the barn than I had anticipated. Chronos wasn’t going to clean his own tack and I couldn’t leave it for tomorrow.

My stomach growled in protest. I tried the apple one more time with Chronos. He rejected it even as he nuzzled my forearm.

He wanted love, he just didn’t know how to take it.

“I’ll check on you tonight, sweet boy.” I left plenty of feed and water in his stall and I slipped inside the cabin to take a quick shower.

I wasn’t one to dawdle in the bathroom, but I did inspect myself in the mirror once I’d disrobed. My mind flashed to the video as my fingers skimmed over the scar on my ribs.

How was it possible for such a video to exist? I was the one to suggest it was from the future, but did I actually believe it?

During my more covert military operations, I’d seen some pretty crazy shit. Some stuff you could explain and some stuff you couldn’t. And this video was squarely in the “stuff you couldn’t explain” column.

My stomach growled again.

Well, a growling stomach was something I could explain.

Once showered and dressed in fresh clothing—a plain t-shirt and faded blue jeans—I walked into the living room.

I had a clear view of my nephews in the kitchen.

They didn’t hear me come in, so I had a small window of time to observe them. My first thought was that they looked rather cozy. Both were dressed casually in shorts and t-shirts.

They were standing at the counter, side by side, their shoulders grazing, as they worked on pizza dough. Rowen said something I couldn’t hear that made Patrick smile at him.

Each had flour dusting their cheeks.

They were adorable and I felt an immense amount of affection toward them.

I watched as Rowen plucked a pepperoni slice from an open container. He tried to feed it to Patrick, but Rowen pulled back at the last second and ate it himself.

“Tease,” Patrick said.

“Now you’re catching on.” Rowen winked before hip checking his brother. That was when he spotted me in the living room. “Hey Uncle Darcy.”

Patrick looked up as well. He pushed his hair out of his eyes and ended up getting more flour on his forehead. Rowen noticed and chuckled.

I felt their eyes on me. It was more than just a cursory glance. My nephews were checking me out.

While Rowen’s gaze was bold, Patrick bit his lip shyly as he pretended he wasn’t getting an eyeful.

I still wasn’t sure how I felt about any of this. Uneasy. Confused. All I knew was, something had changed since the last time I saw them, but I didn’t know what, and I didn’t know how to bring it up.

Patrick cleared his throat and everything seemed to go back to normal. He returned his attention to the foodstuff on the counter.

“Tell us about the horse,” Patrick said.

I stepped into the kitchen to see them in action. They’d set up a ‘make your own’ pizza station, complete with red sauce, multiple cheeses, various meats, peppers, garlic, and even chunks of pineapple.

As Patrick arranged the containers, I explained Chronos’s situation to them and they listened with rapt attention.

“I hope you can help him, Uncle Darcy,” Patrick said when I’d finished. His voice was full of compassion. “It sounds like he needs a good friend right now.”

Rowen stacked up nine mini pizza dough rounds as he asked, “How do you do what you do?”

“What do you mean?”

“The animal whisperer thing,” he clarified. “Dad told us that dogs and cats followed you around when you were a kid.”

“Ducks, too,” I said with a grin. They laughed. “And I wish I knew how it worked,” I added. “I just let them know they can trust me and we go from there.”

The oven beeped, letting us know it had reached the preheated level.

Rowen twirled around me to check the oven. He tripped over his own feet, so I reached over to pull him upright.

His hands flew up to my biceps to hold on tight.

The touch burned.

It always burned, but this was different. Our chests collided and it was like he was burning me from the inside out.

“Ro—” My lungs seized up. I couldn’t even finish saying his name.

“Thanks,” he said. He didn’t let go. In fact, he squeezed my arms. Prickles of pain sent a buzzing noise in my head. He was oblivious to the torment warring inside my body. “You know,” he added, “we trust you, Uncle Darcy.” His voice was low, seductive, and that burned me as well. From the corner of my eye I saw Patrick watching, his chest rising and falling like he was struggling to breathe as well. “Does that make you the Patrick and Rowen whisperer?”

“M-maybe,” I said on a stutter. A foreign hunger filled me. I wanted to map my nephew’s face, to memorize it. My eyes traveled over his dark eyebrows, those expressively golden brown eyes, over the cute freckles on his nose, his full lips, down to the short stubble dotting his chin. I swallowed. “Did you know you have flour on your cheek?”

I didn’t recognize my own voice.

Rowen’s lips curved into a slow smile. “I know. I was wondering which of you would wipe it off for me.”

This was too much. Too much, too soon. The room started spinning.

“I…” I took a wide step back. Rowen’s face fell as he dropped his arms.

“Sorry,” he whispered. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, Uncle Darcy.”

I put as much distance between us as the kitchen would allow. Everything felt hot. My clothes. The oven. The blood pumping through my veins. My accelerating pulse.

My nephews looked first at each other, then at me. Their faces were filled with concern.

“Neither of you have anything to apologize for,” I choked out. I looked down at the floor. I didn’t want to see the disappointment in their eyes. “I’m the screwed up one here, not you. Both of you are—are… lovely men. And—and…” Jesus, I was a bumbling mess. “I recognize the effort you’re making, but I’m the one ruining this.”

They were quiet for a long moment. Patrick cleaned his hands before saying, “You’re not ruining anything, Uncle Darcy. We understand that sometimes you need a healthy amount of space. Do you want us to leave? I haven’t had anything to drink yet, so I’m safe to drive.”

Leave? What?

They came all this way. We were about to make dinner. And now I was making them feel unwelcome.

Fuck.

“No,” I grunted out. The back of my eyes stung. Why was I so bad at this? “Don’t—don’t leave.” My voice was too emphatic, so I subdued it. “I mean, you can, if you want. I won’t stop you, but…” I ran a hand through my hair. Hissing, I remembered too late the scabs on my palms. “I hope you don’t.”

The kitchen rang out with silence.

“Okay,” Rowen said gently. “We’ll stay.”

I looked up then. His lips were a soft smile. I was about to ask him to come to me. But Rowen wasn’t a dog, or a horse.

Instead, I took one step toward him, then two, and then I was standing in front of him.

My nephew’s mouth parted and his breath hitched when I used my thumb to wipe away the flour on his cheek.

This was the boldest thing I’d done in years.

But he wasn’t the only nephew in the kitchen with flour on his face. I moved to stand in front of Patrick. His breathing was also unsteady when I smoothed the flour off his forehead and his cheek. It took a couple of tries before I got it all.

He bit his lip as his face turned a bright shade of pink.

“There,” I said after clearing my throat and putting a safe distance between us. “It was starting to bug me.”

It was meant as a joke to lighten the mood and thankfully it worked.

Rowen burst out laughing and Patrick joined in. Their eyes sparkled. Joy filled my chest.

“Are you hungry, Uncle Darcy?” Rowen asked.

He kept the question neutral. Not an ounce of innuendo, which I thought was rather kind of him. I probably would have run from the room otherwise.

“Starving, actually,” I said.

Patrick pointed at the counter. “You go first, Uncle Darcy.”

After dinner, we took our beers outside. I grabbed a handful of logs and started a fire at the pit.

The three of us sat back on Adirondack chairs and looked up at the sky. Sunset came late in July, so the sky was gradients of blue, orange, and pink on the western horizon just as stars winked into existence on the eastern side.

The moon was but a sliver tonight.

The trees rustled and a chill came down the mountain. Patrick let out a burr.

I didn’t mind the cold nights, but they were wearing shorts.

“I forgot how cold it could get up here in the mountain,” he said. He rubbed his arms.

Rowen laughed at his brother. “Can’t tough it out, can you?”

“I’m not afraid to admit when I’m cold.”

Rowen shook his head.

“It will take a minute before the fire is spitting out any heat,” I said, “but I’m happy to grab a sweatshirt for you. I’ve got plenty.”

“Yeah, that’d be great, thanks Uncle Darcy.”

Putting my beer down, I stood up just as Rowen said, “I want one, too,” Rowen said. “It’s only fair.”

“Sure thing.” I smiled to myself. “Two sweaters coming right up.”

In my bedroom, I dug around my closet to find two sweatshirts I thought they might like. I had a feeling I wouldn’t get them back. That had me smiling big time.

I found two old Navy sweatshirts from when I was stationed in Coronado, California. I sniffed them. These had to be fifteen years old, but they didn’t smell musty.

I was also bigger then, and these sweaters were going to swim on my nephews. They’d probably look pretty cute wearing them, too.

Simmer down, Darcy.

Cute boys wearing your clothes?

Yeah, we weren’t going there.

When I stepped outside, I tossed one at each of them, and they quickly shoved their arms through the sleeves and pulled the sweatshirts over their heads.

“Thanks, Uncle Darcy,” they said in unison.

Their silhouettes were cast in an orange glow. They were smiling at me as they snuggled into the oversized sweatshirts.

I took a long sip from my beer to keep from saying anything stupid.

For a long while we just drank beer and watched the sky. Patrick tried to identify animal sounds while Rowen threw his hand in the air to count shooting stars.

This felt nice.

It was peaceful. My soul was content to have me sit here and be around them. Anything more would clog up the gears in my brain.

“Uncle Darcy?” Patrick said.

My heart thumped. Because I knew they were here for a reason. And for some reason, it took them hours to work up the courage to finally say something.

“Yeah?”

“So, about the video…” Patrick trailed off. “It’s changed.”

I didn’t know what to expect, but I didn’t expect that. “How?”

“Probably best if we just show you again,” Rowen said.

Patrick handed over his phone and I watched the short clip. Instead of two men having sex, it was a video of a bed. An empty bed.

“This isn’t a new video?”

“No,” Patrick said. “Same time stamp. Same everything. Well, everything but the main event.”

“When did it change?”

“We noticed it last night.”

I played the video again, but turned up the volume.

The only noise I could hear was breathing. But when I listened even closer, I heard someone talking in low whispers, though I couldn’t make out the words.

“Why do you think it’s different?” Rowen asked.

“Honestly,” I said as I gave Patrick the phone, “I don’t have a clue, but it seems like something altered the outcome.”

I finished my beer and opened another one.

“This feels like were in some super sci-fi movie,” Rowen said.

“I figured you’d be happy about it not happening,” I said. “It had to be embarrassing to see you, you know, doing that with me.”

Even as I said it, a strange melancholy came over me. Was it right to feel sad about something not happening that was never supposed to occurring in the first place?

Life was weird sometimes.

“I don’t know if embarrassed is the right word, Uncle Darcy.” There seemed to be a hidden meaning in Patrick’s words, but he continued on without expanding. “Do you think we’ve somehow changed the future?”

I shrugged. “I suppose every choice we make always affects our future, but we don’t have video evidence of it beforehand.”

“Fuck,” Rowen said all of a sudden. “We messed up something, Patrick. I know we did.”

Patrick sighed. “Maybe. I dunno, Ro. The only things that’s different—”

He stopped talking. In fact, they both stopped talking for a while.

What was different? I wanted to ask. But I was a man who didn’t pry because I was also a man who didn’t like others prying into my life.

Still, curiosity burned my tongue.

I itched to ask.

But the moment passed and they brought up other topics—their parents, Patrick’s PhD research, Rowen’s new song, zaniness at the night club. I enjoyed the cadence and timbre of their voices as birds warbled, insects buzzed, and as the wind whistled through the trees.

And course there was Chronos, who neighed and snickered several times.

When the fire flickered low, we’d finished our beers. They’d had too much to drink to drive home.

“One of you can take the spare bedroom and the other can take the couch,” I said. “You guys decide.” I stood and doused the fire completely. “Whoever takes the couch, I’ll bring you bedding after I check in on Chronos.”

They stood and stretched. “Thanks, Uncle Darcy,” Rowen said.

They were beautiful beneath the stars. Beautiful and good and sweet and I had no business even considering touching them.

Even if the touch burned.

Some burns were good.

Which meant it was good a thing for all of us that the video was different.

They walked inside the cabin as I entered the small barn. Chronos seemed content in his stable, though he didn’t nibble at anything. I laughed when he snorfled my hair, blowing warm air all over my head.

“Well hello to you, too, Chronos.

He was taking in the scent of the fire, what I had for dinner, the beer on my breathe, and maybe even the scent of Patrick and Rowen.

What would I smell like if I’d been closer to them? If more of my skin touched their skin?

Don’t think that, Darcy.

With Chronos content, I closed up the barn, and entered the cabin.

No one was in the living room, so I went down the hallway that led to the bedrooms. The spare bedroom was closed and I heard voices behind it.

Sultry voices and noises. Like kissing, and heavy breathing, and the sound of two bodies falling on a bed together.

So that’s what changed.

Patrick and Rowen were together.

They were touching each other behind this closed door.

They were doing other things, like kissing and murmuring soft words.

They didn’t need me. Want me. Desire me.

They had each other.

“Shh,” I heard Patrick say from inside the room. “We’re making too much noise.”

I lifted my hand to knock. To make my presence known. To maybe allow them to invite me inside.

But I stopped myself.

Rowen’s response to Patrick was a low laugh before Patrick gasped out, “God, yes, Gorgeous. Fuck, like that.” The moan was low and meant only for Rowen’s ears. “So good.”

I put my hand down and stepped away from the door.

Whatever was happening in my spare bedroom was none of my business.

I went into my own bedroom knowing they were better off without me.

Chapter Text

Prompt: RUINED

POV: Rowen (25)

Patrick was panting and writhing beneath me as I kissed down his chest. We’d disrobed the second we walked into Uncle Darcy’s spare bedroom.

I’d been on fire for hours.

My brother didn’t resist when I’d immediately maneuvered us to the bed.

“God, yes, Gorgeous,” Patrick moaned. I licked from his balls to the tip of his cock and swirled my tongue along the frenulum. “Fuck, like that.” He moaned again. “Feels so good.”

The room was dark but I didn’t need a light to explore his body.

“Tell me how this feels…” I licked my lips before swallowing my brother’s cock.

Patrick must have covered his mouth because his response was a muffled shout. I wasn’t sure why he was trying to be quiet. I wanted Uncle Darcy to hear.

Patrick thrust up and his cock hit the back of my throat. My eyes watered. Fuck, I loved learning this side of my brother. I swallowed down his precum as he fucked my face.

“Don’t hold back,” I said when I came up for air. “I want you to ruin my throat, big brother. You and Uncle Darcy, both.”

“Fuuuck, Ro,” Patrick moaned before yanking me up for a frantic kiss. As his tongue delved into my mouth, he rolled us so that he was pinning me to the bed. “What else do you want Uncle Darcy to do to you?”

His voice was low and husky. I could tell he was incredibly turned on.

“God, anything he wants to me,” I said. “Use me like a doll and fuck me until my entire body is raw and sore, with cum leaking from my hole.” He growled when I said that. “Then I want to watch him do the same to you.”

“Jesus, Ro, that’s hot.” Patrick crawled down my body.

I threw my head back and moaned when he took my entire cock in his mouth. “Shit, baby, that’s so goddamn good. Use your hands, too. Get my dick good and wet.”

My brother jacked me as he sucked my cock.

“Like this?”

“Yeah,” I moaned. “Your mouth is incredible.”

The noises he made at the back of his throat turned me on so much. The pleasure was out of this world. I was going to blow any second.

Tonight had been a whirlwind of emotions. From fearing we were intruding on Uncle Darcy’s privacy to making him feel uncomfortable to him touching our faces on his own accord.

For other people, touching someone’s face was no big deal. For Uncle Darcy to do it, it was momentous.

It was like the world had changed yet again. It felt like progress.

I was happy. Deliriously happy.

My soul vibrated with awareness. Anything seemed possible while we were tucked away in our uncle’s cabin. These feelings might be new and they might be forbidden, but they were real.

It couldn’t get any better.

Well, it could, I thought. It could get better if Uncle Darcy joined us.

“Wait,” I said. I was so close to climaxing, but I sat up. Patrick popped off my cock. “Crack open the bedroom door,” I added. “When Uncle Darcy comes in from the barn, he’ll have to walk by our room. Maybe he’ll come in.”

Patrick didn’t answer right away. Then he said, “Uncle Darcy is the type of man who requires a clear invitation.”

It was a valid point. Just because our uncle touched our faces didn’t mean he was ready to rush in and fuck our brains out.

It was a big leap to make.

My optimism—and my erection—deflated.

“I got ahead of myself again,” I said. “Sorry to ruin the moment.”

“You didn’t, Ro.” He placed a soft kiss on my lips before sliding off the bed. He stepped into his shorts. “Lemme check to see if he’s even in the house.”

Wordlessly, Patrick left the bedroom. I could hear his quiet footsteps throughout the cabin. Uncle Darcy’s house wasn’t large, but in the dead of night, it was easy to pick up most sounds if you listened carefully.

He walked to the end of the hallway and paused.

A minute later Patrick returned. He left the door slightly ajar as he removed his shorts and climbed back into bed.

Instead of resuming our previous activity, he lay down beside me, a sigh escaping his lips.

“The cabin is fully locked up, Ro. Uncle Darcy is in his bedroom. I could see the glow of the television beneath his door. I think he heard us.”

“Based on your tone, I’m guessing you think he didn’t take it well?”

“No. I heard him walking back and forth in his room, talking to himself. It sounded pretty negative.”

My heart broke. Did we ruin everything?

“Fuck,” I muttered. I rubbed my eyes. “What do we do?”

Patrick turned to face me. Our legs tangled together while his hand came to my face. With gentle movements, he smoothed the hair back from my forehead.

“I think…” He stopped as he considered his words. “I think Uncle Darcy is very hard on himself, and I just don’t know if it’s better to be forward or reserved with him.”

“Let me ask you something,” I said. “What was your gut reaction when you discovered the video had changed again? And be honest with me Patrick. Were you upset when you learned that you would not get to fuck Uncle Darcy in the future?”

My brother exhaled. I could smell the summer ale on his breath.

“Yes,” he said in a whisper. “I can’t explain it any more than you can, but when I saw that Uncle Darcy and I were not on the video together, it was disappointing, to say the least. But it wasn’t the sex part I was upset about.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was upset because if we were having sex with Uncle Darcy, then it meant the three of us had grown close. That he’d trusted us to the point where he could be intimate with us. That seems like the bigger deal, and losing that feels soul crushing.” He pulled me to him and I wrapped my arms around my brother. “I’ve realized that I want both of you, and I’m willing to fight for it.”

“I want that, too, Patrick. It all feels so sudden, but it also feels so right.”

“That’s why we need to fix this. If we don’t, I fear we’ll end up losing Uncle Darcy for good.”

Knots of worry swirled in my belly.

I latched onto Patrick’s use of the word “fix.” A few ideas started ticking in my mind.

“Okay,” I said, “let’s figure this out. Do you think we did something wrong that altered the future?” I asked.

“Technically, no. The only thing that’s changed is we’ve become intimate. While that may be unorthodox, that doesn’t make it wrong. It’s not hurting anyone, either.”

That’s where Patrick was likely wrong.

“What if it hurt Uncle Darcy? What if he heard us tonight and felt like we didn’t want him? What if that’s what changed the video?”

Patrick blew out a breath. “Fuck, Ro, I think you’re right. Uncle Darcy loves and trusts us in his own way, but he won’t venture close if he believes he’s not wanted or if he’s worried we’ll rip his heart out.”

“It’s why he’d rather be around animals than humans. Hell, what do you think he’s doing with Chronos? He’s getting the horse to trust him so he’ll eat again.”

We both knew I was on to something after I’d said that. Hope returned. Things were not utterly ruined.

“He needs to know we want him, that we need him, and we do that by communicating with him and being here for him,” I said. “That’s what we need to fix.”

Patrick kissed the tip of my nose and then my mouth. It wasn’t sexually charged, but it was devastatingly sweet.

“You’re perfect,” he said into my lips. “I agree with you wholeheartedly. Let’s start first thing in the morning. We’ll know if the plan is working if the video changes back to the original.”

Patrick pulled the blanket up and put his head on my chest.

I massaged my brother’s scalp until he was snoring. I smiled down at him.

I imagined long conversations with Uncle Darcy. Helping him at the shelter. Spending time with him out on the deck as the night sky darkened overhead. Sharing meals and laughs and secrets.

For most of my adult life, I’d been floating between hook-ups, never looking for anything serious, because no one even remotely piqued my interest.

But a poly relationship with Patrick and Darcy?

They were worth the effort and I was willing to put away my wings to be with them.

I fell asleep knowing things were not as ruined as I’d first feared.

Chapter Text

Prompt: BLOOD

POV: Patrick (27)

Twack.

Curse.

Twack.

Another curse.

Twack.

I woke up to the sound of someone chopping wood. Dawn trickled in through the bedroom’s parted curtains. It took me a long moment to recall I was at Uncle Darcy’s cabin.

Beside me, Rowen stretched, yawned, and then curled into my back. He was spooning me and his erection was pressing firmly against my ass.

That’s when I remembered we were both still naked.

“What is that noise?” he asked in a cute and sleepy voice. His hand slid to my front as he kissed between my shoulder blades. He palmed my growing erection. “And what do we have here, Patrick?”

I shivered.

Waking up next to someone wasn’t a normal occurrence for me. And waking up like this next to my brother was even less of a normal occurrence.

Even still, my dick grew harder beneath his touch. I had no intention of stopping this.

“I think he’s happy to see you,” I said. My voice was groggy.

“Mmm,” Rowen murmured, causing my cock to pulse in his hand. “What a coincidence… I’m very happy to see him as well.”

I chuckled at his playful side.

We’d yet to discuss actual penetration. So far, we’d only done third base stuff. Handjobs and frotting that first night, and blowjobs last night, though neither of us finished.

We were both too worried about Uncle Darcy to continue.

But this morning those worries seemed to be far from mind, especially when my brother pushed his hard cock between my thighs and started thrusting beneath my balls.

“Is this okay?” he rasped out.

Without proper lube, it was less sliding in and out, and more of a rocking motion, but it still felt incredible.

“Yes,” I said on a strangle.

It was dry, though Rowen’s precum soon eased the friction between my thighs. He gasped when I squeezed my legs around his length.

“Fuck, that’s good,” he said. “This won’t last long.”

Rowen jerked me at the same time. “Stroke me faster,” I moaned.

The pleasure of his cock pressing against my perineum and my balls had me seeing stars.

My brother’s breath was hot at my back as he whimpered into my skin.

We were a collection of choked moans and inelegant grunts as we brought each other to climax.

Rowen bit my shoulder as he spilled between my thighs, his release coating my balls. Several strokes later, I came in his hand, his name a soft cry on my lips.

For a long moment, we just lay there, both of us sighing contentedly.

A box of tissues was on the nightstand, so we cleaned up as best we could while we caught our breath.

“God that was good,” Rowen said. “I love how responsive you are. I take back every time I called you a prude, Patrick.”

He kissed my shoulder as we both rolled onto our backs. Dawn had brightened and gentle yellow rays of sunlight filtered into the room.

I propped up on an elbow to look down at him.

I’m responsive because it’s you, I wanted to say.

With a grin on his face, Rowen practically glowed. He probably knew what I was thinking.

With golden eyes, dark lashes, and a gorgeous smile, my brother had no right to be this beautiful.

One of his eyelashes was loose.

“Close your eyes,” I whispered.

With gentle fingers, I plucked the eyelash. When he didn’t immediately reopen his eyes, I couldn’t resist the temptation of his perfect pink lips.

I leaned down and captured his mouth. Rowen growled and deepened the kiss. We kissed and explored each other with our hands for several long moments. The intent was not to escalate things, but to enjoy each other in a soft moment.

It almost felt like we were catching up for lost time.

Rowen pulled back and smiled at me.

Then the outside noise started again.

Twack.

Twack.

The muffle of someone cursing.

The only person it could be was Uncle Darcy. I had the urge to rush to the window and throw open the curtains to see if he was chopping wood right outside our window.

“Did you notice Uncle Darcy’s hands yesterday?” Rowen asked in a quiet voice.

I read the worry in his eyes.

I had noticed. They were bloody and scabbed over.

“Yeah. He seems rather obsessed with firewood this season.”

“Maybe too obsessed,” Rowen said.

I couldn’t disagree.

In a wordless agreement, we climbed out of bed and marched to the window.

Rowen peeled back the curtain.

Our bedroom window had a perfect view of the cabin’s backyard. We could see the edge of the barn, the paddock, and Uncle Darcy.

Beyond that, this part of Onyx River had a great view of the rest of the Arcane Falls mountains. Fog and mist hovered over the tops of trees far off in the distance.

I returned my focus to Uncle Darcy.

Wearing dark wash jeans, heavy boots, a long sleeve henley shirt, and a pair clear goggles, Uncle Darcy stood tall and imposing next to a large tree stump. Lifting a heavy axe, he swung down and split a log clean in two.

Twack.

The two pieces went flying.

“That’s what you deserve, Darcy Vaughn,” he seemed to be saying to himself. “You’re a goddamn idiot.”

His forehead glistened with sweat. I also noticed that his shirt was wet and clinging to his body.

How long had he been at this?

Uncle Darcy was not having a good morning. His face was lined with exhaustion. In the early morning sunlight, the dark circles under his eyes were more pronounced. His lips were frowning.

But it was his hands that were the most worrying.

His palms and knuckles were bloody. The axe handle was bloody. And he must have wiped his hands on his jeans, because red smears stained across his thighs.

Uncle Darcy was continuing to chop wood with bloody hands.

It had to be painful.

And that was probably the point.

Fuck.

Rowen and I looked at each other at the same time.

As if in agreement, we threw on clothes and rushed outside.

Chapter Text

Prompt: DEVOTED

POV: Uncle Darcy (45)

Chronos snorted at me again. He was inside the paddock, his chest pressing forcefully against the fence, his big black eyes glaring at me.

There was a solid thirty feet between me and the paddock. None of the wood splinters would reach that far, so the horse was perfectly safe from flying wood chips.

Though that wasn’t Chronos’s problem with me this morning.

Instead of eating anything, the horse digested my emotional state and snorted at me in protest.

“You deal with shit your own way,” I said to Chronos. I placed another log on the stump. Twack. “And I deal with shit my own way.”

Yeah, the horse didn’t like that.

Chronos blew his nose at me one last time and stomped away.

I continued to chop log after log. I had enough firewood for three winters. I’d have to store the extra in the barn or give it away. Hell, maybe I’d start a huge bonfire and just burn it all.

It might be cathartic.

My hands, wrists, and forearms were significantly beat up from the effort.

Good.

I needed the reminder to never get my hopes up again. This morning, as I walked by the spare bedroom, the door was cracked open a few inches.

I made the mistake of looking inside.

Patrick and Rowen were fast asleep, snuggled together, and tucked beneath the blanket. Based on the way clothes were strewn about the bedroom, I could surmise that they were naked beneath the blanket.

The thing was… I was actually happy for them. I wanted my nephews to be happy, healthy men in loving relationships. I wanted to see them smiling and enjoying life to the fullest.

Even if it was with each other.

But for five fucking minutes yesterday, I had the stupid idea that I could be part of it.

Twack.

Five minutes could ruin your life.

I’d seen it happen on the battlefield. Seen it happen in jungles and in deserts. Witnessed it when bullets whizzed by our heads. Missing me by inches only to strike Commander Josh Kluger right in the face, killing him instantly.

If only I’d been three inches to the right… Josh could be chopping wood to distraction while mourning my death.

Twack.

Life had a way of advancing in inches and minutes.

The military taught me that.

It also taught me to ignore pain… To put the the team and mission above myself.

And if that was the only edict to go by, I had a box full of military awards and medals that told me I was succeeding beautifully.

Not that anyone with half a brain would agree with me.

Not my therapist, and certainly not Chronos.

Chronos probably thought I was insane.

When I looked up, I saw my nephews standing at the cabin’s back door. They wore yesterday’s shorts and my old navy sweatshirts.

Even from this distance, my breath caught at the way they looked adorably sleep rumpled. Clothes wrinkled and hair every which way.

Though, I didn’t miss the expression of alarm on their faces.

Chronos instantly trotted toward them. He was blowing through his nose and canting his muzzle in my direction.

Talk some sense into this dumb idiot, Chronos’s body language seemed to say to Patrick and Rowen.

My nephews cautiously approached the horse. Over the fence, Chronos inspected their heads, sniffing and blowing their hair around. I expected smiles and chuckles. Instead I got worried looks aimed my way.

Chronos nuzzled into their shoulders and seemed to nudge them in my direction.

“Yeah, we know,” Rowen said to the horse. “We’re headed that way now.”

So the three of them were ganging up on me?

I’d laugh if I had the energy.

The axe was slippery in my grip, so I struck the blade into the tree stump and let it rest there at a forty-five degree angle.

My nephews approached me like a bomb tech might approach a suspicious box.

Patrick resembled my brother Frederick while Rowen, in a certain light, resembled their fair-haired mother, Lonnie.

All of them loved me.

They wanted the best for me.

They worried about me.

And all of a sudden, my love for them suffocated me completely. I didn’t know how to breath, how to form words, how to even move my mouth.

My eyes stung and I blinked back unshed tears. I wasn’t afraid to cry, I just wasn’t sure what I was crying about, and honestly, I think that’s what scared me the most.

Their gazes flicked down to my hands. I felt the urge to hide them behind my back. But that wouldn’t hide the fact that blood dripped to the ground.

I barely felt it, though later on I knew it would hurt like hell. It would blaze like a fire, the pain licking from the inside out.

“Let’s take care of that for you, Uncle Darcy,” Patrick said. His voice was low, calm, and measured. I didn’t detect an ounce of judgment in his words.

My brain swam with shame.

I nodded. Wordlessly, I followed them into the cabin.

The main reason I agreed so quickly with my nephews was that I didn’t read pity or sympathy on their faces. Concern, yes, but never pity.

When we entered the bathroom, I saw that they’d already located my first aid kit. It was already on the counter, with various items out and ready for use.

It struck me then that they’d come outside with the intention of staging an intervention. I didn’t like people going to so much trouble for me, but in that moment, I also felt so much gratitude toward my nephews.

The bathroom was the one room in the cabin I splurged on. I had a large tub, a separate shower, and a sauna.

Rowen turned the faucet on and left the cold water running.

“Over here.” There was a note of quiet authority in Rowen’s voice, one that I physically responded to. Wordlessly, I stood beside him at the sink. Even though I towered over him, it was clear that he was the one in charge. “I am going to clean your palms, Uncle Darcy. But that means I will need to touch you.” He peered up at me. “Is that okay?”

I let out a long breath. I looked at him and then over at Patrick, who had returned from my bedroom with fresh clothing for me to change into.

“And I’ll help you undress and redress,” Patrick said. That’s when I realized my current attire was not just sweaty, but bloodstained. “We’ll stop if at any point you are uncomfortable.”

“Y-yeah,” I croaked. My voice felt raw and ugly. “That’s okay.”

With extreme gentleness, I felt Rowen’s touch at my elbow as he guided my bloody hands beneath the cold water.

I hissed when the first sting registered.

“Shh,” Rowen whispered. He rubbed my back with his free hand. The touch burned as much as it soothed me. “I’ve got you, Uncle Darcy.”

And he did.

We watched as the water rinsed the blood to reveal angry scabs and cuts on my fingers and palms. When most of the bleeding had stopped, Rowen cleaned around the blisters. He was careful not to get soap directly in the cuts.

As he gently probed my palm and fingers, he felt for wood splinters. I knew I’d have several. I always got splinters in my fingers when handling wood logs.

When Rowen found them, he used a clean pair of tweezers to remove each one. He worked quickly and efficiently.

While he administered care, I studied my youngest nephew’s face in the bathroom mirror.

His eyebrows furrowed together as he pulled my hands up toward the light to get a better view. His golden eyes missed nothing, and I found myself smiling at the way he bit his tongue when he extracted a tiny wood splinter from my fingertip.

When he saw me watching, he offered me a sly little smile that caused my stomach to somersault.

“I could feel the splinter,” he explained. “I just couldn’t see it. The lil bastard.”

Warmth bloomed at my lower back and my breath caught.

In the mirror, I saw that Patrick had come to stand beside me. Rowen was on my right and Patrick was on my left. It felt good to be between them—to know that I could depend upon them.

It was Patrick’s hand I felt at my back. It surprised me to learn that what I was feeling wasn’t pain, but heat. Warmth. Awareness.

Devotion.

They were taking care of me without demanding answers in return.

“Doing okay, Uncle Darcy?” Patrick asked quietly.

Both had golden brown eyes. While Rowen’s had bright gold flecks in his eyes, Patrick’s eyes were darker, with amber tinted flecks. The freckles splayed across his nose and cheeks were more noticeable, too.

Was I doing okay? No. But I would be.

I cleared my throat and looked away. “Y-yes.”

Patrick washed his hands and had me sit on the edge of the bathtub.

“I will apply this before covering your palms with sterile gauze.” Kneeling, he held up a tube of antibacterial ointment. “We’ll need to replace the gauze in your first aid kit, but I can buy more later on today.”

“Not necessary,” I said. “There’s plenty down at the shelter. I need to head down there shortly.”

“Sure,” Patrick said easily. “We’ll join you.”

He applied a thin layer of ointment over both palms, along several fingers, and on my knuckles. His touch was soft, almost a caress.

It should burn. It should hurt. It didn’t.

Rowen leaned against the counter and watched. I couldn’t quite read his expression, but he seemed content.

“Don’t you both work at the club tonight?” I asked when I remembered it was Wednesday.

“No,” Rowen answered for both of them. “We called in sick.”

My nephews were healthy as shit, which meant they’d called out for me. I wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

Grateful but also guilty.

I didn’t need babysitters, but at the same time, I knew they were doing this because they cared about me.

“You didn’t have to do that for me,” I said.

Were they worried I was going to harm myself if I was left alone?

My eyes burned again.

It wasn’t an illogical concern. It happened to so many servicemen and women. Veterans, too. I’d lost friends due to it. While I’d never attempted suicide, in my lowest times, I’d thought about it. I wasn’t a stranger to self-inflected penance-type injuries, either.

My palms were proof of that.

But things used to be a lot worse before I started seeing a therapist who worked with combat veterans.

Rowen slid next to Patrick and handed over half the gauze. Together they kneeled in front of me and started wrapping my palms with white gauze.

“We know we didn’t have to,” Rowen said, “but we want to. We’ll help you down at the shelter today and we’ll give every animal two hugs.”

“Two? Why two?”

They finished with the gauze. “One from us and one from you.”

My heart was suddenly clogging my throat.

“Ro, Pat…” How could I tell them how I felt? That I’d move mountains for them just to see them smile? That I’d walk through fire if it meant I could touch them without it feeling like it was turning my insides into embers? Except they were touching me now and I wasn’t dying. It didn’t hurt but it didn’t feel good, either. All I could say was, “Thank you.”

They stood.

“You’re welcome, Uncle Darcy,” Patrick said. “We’re not going anywhere. You’re kinda stuck with us.”

“Kinda feels like the other way around,” I mumbled out even though I wanted to wrap them in my arms and squeeze them tight against my chest.

“No complaints from us,” Rowen added with a grin.

Patrick cocked his head at the pile of clothes he placed on a shelf. “Still okay with this next part?”

They’d see me practically naked.

Swallowing, I nodded. Standing, I started to remove my own clothing but Patrick made a noise.

“That’s not going to happen,” he said. “We are doing this because we are taking care of you, Uncle Darcy.”

My chest tightened and I wasn’t sure if it was due to nervousness or excitement. I was curious to know how I might react. When was the last time someone had undressed me? Six or seven years ago?

They removed my shirt. I felt their heated eyes on me. I tried to analyze myself through their eyes. They’d see the tattoos, my battle scars, to include the infamous knife scar. Would they like how I looked?

I wasn’t as muscular as I used to be, but I acquitted myself well in the physical fitness department.

When Rowen’s fingers fumbled with the buttons of my jeans, I sucked in air.

“Easy,” he said under his breath. He wore a cheeky grin. “I’m generally pretty good at doing this.”

Patrick snickered and I let out a soft laugh.

“And I’m sure the guys you do it to are just as eager as you are…” I trailed off.

“But?” he inquired.

“But I’m not like those guys.”

“True,” he said absently and for a brief second I deflated. Then his eyes flicked to mine and I knew he was actually teasing me. “You’re way hotter than they are.”

Oh.

I couldn’t help but smile at that.

“Thanks,” I said.

“Now be quiet so your nephew can take off your pants.”

Patrick couldn’t hold back his laughter. “I swear,” he said after he got himself together. “I think this is Rowen’s ultimate fantasy.”

I was confused, so I asked, “Rowen’s fantasy is undressing his uncle?”

“Actually,” Patrick said as he unlaced my boots, “it’s mine, too.”

I was doubly confused.

And that’s when I realized what this was… the slowest, most mildest seduction known to man.

Oh, fuck.

They unbuttoned and then unzipped my pants, and in short order, my ruined jeans were off. I stood there in my dark boxers.

My nephews sat back on their heels.

I loved their appreciative expressions, because it seemed genuine. But it also scared the hell out of me.

Rowen’s hand lightly skated up my leg.

I shivered and then hissed. He pulled back.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“It burns,” I said even though their touches didn’t seem to burn with the usual intensity. “When someone touches me, or when I touch them, it can come across like a burning sensation.”

“Shit, we’re so fucking sorry, Uncle Darcy,” Patrick said. They stood up. “Is it always that way?”

“Usually, but not always,” I said. “Sometimes the sensation can be so strong that it registers as a painful feeling. Logically I know no one is holding a match to my skin, but my brain misinterprets shit all the time. I’m constantly negotiating my environment. Have been for years.”

“Fuck…” Patrick said. “That sounds…” He hesitated but said, “Scary and lonely.”

“Yeah, it can be.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I have to be very comfortable and trust my partner first. It can take a while. That’s why I am the way I am.”

They were silent for a few seconds.

“I think we understand the situation better,” Rowen said. “We’d never do anything to hurt you, Uncle Darcy. We love you exactly the way you are.”

Rowen looked at his brother for confirmation.

“Exactly the way you are,” Patrick repeated. “We’d never try to change you.” He helped me with the shirt and then with my pants. “And you’re not alone. Not ever again, if you chose not to be. You’ve got us.”

What were they saying? It felt like they were saying more but I wasn’t good at deciphering soft innuendoes.

“I love you both as well,” I stammered out. “I don’t know if you’re saints or devils for loving me, but thank you.”

Rowen arched an eyebrow suggestively. “How about one of each? I’ll be the devil and Patrick the saint.”

That’s not innuendo, my brain supplied. For a brief second, my imagination went there. Touches. Soft words. Maybe even kissing. But I cut it off almost as soon as it started.

It was mental whiplash to feel rejected one moment and then desired the next. None of it was their fault. It was all me.

It was getting hot in the bathroom. Hot and stuffy and even though there was plenty of room for three men, it felt way too crowded.

I needed fresh air.

“I think I hear Chronos,” I said as I slipped past them. “So I should go. Thanks again for patching me up.”

My nephews didn’t try stop me from leaving the bathroom even though both knew it was impossible to hear the barn from here.

Chapter Text

Prompt: COLLAR

POV: Rowen (25)

As if by silent agreement, Patrick and I knew to give Uncle Darcy additional space. But even if we wanted to pull him aside, it wouldn’t have worked.

By the time we cleaned up, ate breakfast, and drove down to the animal shelter, our uncle was already there and speaking with the veterinarian.

Several staff and a few volunteers were cleaning and feeding the animals. It was a loud, happy place with barking dogs and meowing cats. Thankfully, last weekend’s adoption event was a success with many dogs and cats had been adopted.

As I checked in with the shelter’s office manager to see what they needed help with today, I listened in on Uncle Darcy’s conversation with Dr. Kluger.

“I see you took care of your hands,” the veterinarian was saying to Uncle Darcy.

It was a relief to know he hadn’t removed the gauze. As long as he didn’t lift heavy items, he should be fine to go about business as usual.

“My nephews staged an intervention this morning,” he said.

“Glad to hear someone can talk some sense into you,” she said with the ease of an old friend. “You’re about as hard-headed as they come.”

“Tell me about it,” he agreed.

They were talking near the front door. A small dog was sleeping in Uncle Darcy’s arms. I recognized it as Glenda, the poodle chihuahua mix the shelter rescued last weekend. Glenda snuggled against Uncle Darcy’s chest like she was in it for the long haul.

I smiled at the scene.

After a minute, their conversation turned to Chronos.

“Chronos must be eating something,” Dr. Jen said. “He’s healthy for the most part, so I’m guessing he’s consuming some grass and grain. It’s just not his usual amount, and it’s not in front of you. Has he come to trust you yet?”

“I’m still working on it,” he said with a defensive sigh.

“If there is no significant progress, Chronos’s owner wants to explore alternate options. There’s an equine clinic west of here that has success in rehabilitating horses.”

“Give me until the end of the day, Dr. Jen,” Uncle Darcy said. I could hear the desperation in his voice.

I knew my uncle well enough to know that he hated giving up. He’d view it as failure.

“Okay, Regency,” Dr. Jen said. I’d forgotten that she knew him from his military days and called him by his navy nickname. She gave Uncle Darcy a tight smile. “I trust you.”

The bell over the door tinkled. As Dr. Jen left, she didn’t have to ask the implied question, Do you trust yourself, Darcy?

Uncle Darcy frowned when he noticed me watching him. Instead of turning tail and running to the back, I approached him.

“Want me to take Glenda off your hands so you can get your day started?”

He looked down at the fluffy, curly haired dog in his arms. Glenda was still asleep as she let out a snort snore thing. It was cute to see my tall, robust uncle carrying a tiny dog.

“It’s fine,” he said. “I’m used to having an animal or two in my arms while I’m here. Though Glenda is clingy. She just needs extra love.”

Don’t we all, Glenda.

As if Glenda knew I was threatening to remove her from her favorite person on Earth, one of her eyes popped open. The dog gave me a look that I could only describe as smug satisfaction combined with an, ‘If you try to remove me, I will hurt you’ glare.

Stepping closer, I scratched behind her ear. “Sometimes just having a friend nearby is all we need to make it through the day, isn’t it Glenda?” I whispered. “No one is going to take you from Uncle Darcy’s strong arms.”

Was I jealous of a dog?

No comment.

“Don’t just stand there, Rowen,” Uncle Darcy said with a smile. “There are plenty of cats and dogs who are waiting to receive hugs from you and your brother. Patrick got a head start on you.”

It surprised me he even referenced any part of this morning’s conversation.

“I give great hugs, Uncle Darcy.”

I said it without any heat. There were just too many people milling about.

Still, Uncle Darcy bit his lip and looked away for a split second.

Then he said, “I believe it.” He cleared his throat. “Now get to work before I sack you for being a distraction.”

“A distraction for the shelter or for you?”

“I’m not answering that.”

Victory swept through me. I totally won that round. He flushed when I winked at him.

Uncle Darcy quickly entered his office while I went to the back of the shelter to find Patrick.

My brother was at the back door that led to the dog run outside. Three big dogs barked as I walked by their kennels.

I found Patrick fiddling with a series of dog leashes and collars.

Looking up, he said, “I need your help, Ro.”

He held out a collar and a dog leash.

“Do you need help putting a collar around your neck?” I asked with a snicker. “I’d be happy to lead you around by a leash any day of the week.”

“What?” His eyebrows knitted together. “No. Why would you even think that’s what I meant?”

It was my turn to look puzzled. “I have a collection of studded collars in my closet, Patrick. Have you seriously never seen them?”

“I don’t go through your things.” Then changing gears, he said, “Can you help me get the collar on the shepherd mix? She’s energetic and—” He paused as he considered what I’d said. “Wait a minute… Does that mean you’ve snooped in my bedroom?”

“Of course,” I said. “All the time. And the only thing you should be ashamed of is the fact that you have absolutely nothing interesting at all hidden in your room. Not even a dildo, Patrick.”

“Shh,” he hissed at me. His face was red as he scanned the area. We were alone. “Let’s go outside before someone overhears your big mouth.”

“You liked my big mouth last night,” I teased.

“Focus Rowen!” Patrick pointed at the kennel where the shepherd mix was going in circles, her tail wagging profusely. She started howling when she realized we were about to take her outside. “Hold Jellybean steady for me. She’s super wiggly.”

“Hey there, Jellybean. Which flavor are you?”

Patrick chuckled. “The hyper kind. One of the staff mentioned that a family with three energetic kids came in to see Jellybean yesterday. They were apparently smitten with her. My guess is she’ll be adopted soon.”

Once we’d gotten the collar on her, we exited through the back door. Jellybean pulled us like she was a sled dog.

Patrick opened the dog run and let her off the leash. She started sprinting and rolling in the grass.

Honestly, it looked like a lot of fun.

Life would be grand if we could just roll on the grass like carefree dogs.

As the summer sun beat down on our faces, Patrick and I watched Jellybean run amok.

It was a peaceful few minutes.

“So why don’t you own a dildo, Patrick?”

“Oh my fucking god,” he gasped. His shoulders slumped. Did my brother actually think I was going to let the subject drop? “I just don’t, okay? It’s not a big deal.”

“What do you use if not a dildo?”

He turned to me. He was fighting off a smile while also trying to stay peeved at me.

He held up his hand. “My fingers. Happy?”

I couldn’t help but picture a naked Patrick in my head. He’d be lying in bed, stroking his cock while his fingers thrust inside his hole.

I was getting hard just thinking about it.

“I’d be happier if I could watch you play with yourself, Patrick.” My brother swallowed. “Would you let me watch you?”

“Maybe,” he whispered.

“We could invite Uncle Darcy to watch, too.”

Patrick tensed up. “I’m not so sure, Ro. Out of the two of us, I’m not exactly the entertainer. That’s more your style.”

He had a point. I had plenty of items I could use on myself to give them both a good show. Dildos, vibrators, and nipple clamps. I could wear racy lingerie and one of my collars.

The main question was how to go about getting Uncle Darcy inside the room. Would he run the second he realized what was going on? We’d have to be fully open with him before anything happened.

“I’ll consider it,” I said to Patrick. “It’s something we’d have to work up to. We couldn’t just spring it on him.”

As if we’d conjured Uncle Darcy, the back door opened and he stepped outside. He was still holding Glenda, though this time she was wide awake and her tongue was hanging out of her mouth.

She looked pleased to be carried around like a tiny princess.

Uncle Darcy shielded his eyes from the sun as he approached us.

“The family interested in Jellybean is here,” he said. “Can you bring her back inside?”

“Of course,” Patrick said. “Jellybean will be so happy.”

“I’m going to run back to the cabin to work with Chronos. Do you mind sticking around the shelter and helping out for a few more hours? A pallet of food and supplies is due to arrive after lunch.”

“You got it, Uncle Darcy,” I said. “Thoughts for dinner?”

He blinked. “You’re staying the night again? I mean, you’re welcome to stay. You’re always welcome to stay, but I figured…”

“That we had better things to do?” Patrick said kindly. “We don’t. We called out sick for the rest of the week.”

“The whole week?”

“We told you that you were stuck with us.”

“Which reminds me,” I added. “If anyone asks, Patrick and I are terribly sick with a stomach bug.”

Uncle Darcy shook his head. “You two are something else.” Then he smiled. “I’m in the mood for fish and chips for dinner.”

With that, he left and it felt like we’d earned a hard won prize.

Jellybean proved difficult to wrangle. She wanted to play outside, but she was won over when we gave her a treat. Her excitement was doubly palpable when we brought her back inside the shelter to meet her forever family. She couldn’t get enough hugs and scritches as she howled with joy.

Patrick put his arm around my shoulder as the family left the shelter.

“It feels like it’s going to be a good day,” Patrick said.

I couldn’t agree more.

Chapter Text

Prompt: SILENCE

POV: Darcy (45)

Sitting in my lap, Glenda stuck her head out the window as I drove back up to the cabin. I wasn’t driving fast, but given the way I could see her smiling in the side mirror, she enjoyed it all the same.

“There’s someone I want you to meet, Glenda,” I said. “And we have my nephew to thank for it.”

The dog’s tail whacked my chest excitedly.

Rowen said something earlier that stuck with me.

Actually, he said many things that stuck with me.

Rowen was a distraction... In a good way. In fact, both my nephews were, but Rowen’s conversation about having a friend was what spurred me to return to the barn.

“Sometimes just having a friend nearby is all we need to make it through the day.”

From that, a fresh idea on how to help Chronos started forming in my mind. It was almost silly that I hadn’t thought it before now.

Chronos and Glenda both lost their best friends recently. Could they provide comfort to each other in their time of need? I had no way of knowing if Glenda would be okay around horses, but I felt certain
Chronos would behave. He was even-tempered and used to smaller farm animals, like chickens, goats, and barnyard cats.

Parking, I said to Glenda, “All right, pretty girl. Ready to meet Chronos?” Glenda whined with excitement and licked my nose. “I’m going to take that as a yes.”

I picked her up and then tried to put her down on the ground when I exited my truck. Glenda wasn’t having any of it. She sat on my boot and refused to move. I chuckled at the situation.

“You know how to drive a hard bargain.” I tucked her in my arm and walked into the barn. Chronos was standing quietly in his stall, but he whinnied when he noticed me.

“Morning, ole boy,” I said. I picked up an apple from a nearby crate.

Chronos nickered and blew his nose when he saw Glenda in my arms. Not that she was being quiet. She was eager to explore the barn, but I held on tight.

The horse sniffed the air and flicked his ears. Cocking his head, he pushed against his stall as I closed the distance.

“This is Glenda,” I said as I opened the stall door and led Chronos out to the paddock. He was docile enough even though he was very curious about the tiny dog.

Once inside the enclosed paddock, I let Chronos off the lead. He trotted around the perimeter a few times to stretch his legs before returning to my side.

With cautious steps, Chronos lowered his head and approached me. Glenda equally inspected the horse. Shaking with excitement, she tried to pump her little legs, but I refused to let her go until I knew how they’d react toward each other.

Glenda yipped and Chronos neighed playfully. There was an extra bounce to his step.

Then he sniffed the dog’s head while gently tapping his front leg. Glenda, for her part, whined and licked Chronos’s muzzle with gusto. She barked happily.

Hope bloomed in my chest.

I’d never thought to pair dissimilar animals together before, but this might actually work.

Glenda was small, but she wasn’t a puppy. She could be quick on her feet if she needed to get out of the way of a trotting horse.

And the Chihuahua part of her meant she wouldn’t hold back in making her vocal demands known.

With my heart thumping, I placed Glenda on the ground. I wanted to be close by in case she needed me to extract her.

Glenda sprinted around the paddock as fast as her little legs would carry her. My guess was she wanted to impress her new friend. Chronos hung back and watched. During the times she came close, he’d lower his neck to sniff at her.

She’d yip again and dart away before coming back in a playful fashion, one that suggested she wanted Chronos to chase her around the paddock.

He didn’t exactly chase her, but he did walk behind her in a measured way, as if he knew to be extra careful.

Chronos’s expression was one of soft bemusement.

For several long moments, I watched it all in pleasant silence.

It was a beautiful day. The sun was bright, a mountain breeze brought with it the warm fragrance of wildflowers, and my heart swelled with a sense of relief.

The true test, though, would be if Chronos ate anything in front of me. Dr. Jen was right on one front… the horse was eating something. He wasn’t wasting away and he had some energy.

It just wasn’t enough energy to perform arduous farm work.

I needed to ensure his appetite returned so that he could go back to the Romano farm a brand new horse with a new best friend at his side.

Because if this worked, Mr. Romano wouldn’t just receive Chronos. He’d also get Glenda.

After an indeterminate amount of time passed by, I whistled. Chronos jerked his head in my direction. Even Glenda stopped digging to peer at me.

I lifted my hand to reveal the shiny red apple. That piqued Chronos’ interest. I saw newfound liveliness in his big black eyes.

“It’s your favorite kind,” I said. “Dr. Jen said you liked Birchwood apples the best.”

Chronos snorted, but he came without protest.

“Good boy,” I said as he sniffed the apple.

I held my breath.

He was at first enthralled with the white bandages around my hand, but after a few seconds he took the apple between his big teeth and chewed.

The resulting crunch was hugely satisfying.

Giving him a good scratch on his withers, I praised him in my normal tone.

“Good job, Chronos. Very good job.” He sniffed my clothes for more treats and huffed when he found nothing. “Boundaries, buddy,” I said with a smile. “There’s plenty of feed and grass.”

At my feet, Glenda barked. Digging into my pocket, I tossed her a little treat a few feet away. She darted in that direction and chomped it down.

It was going to be a good day.

Several hours later, I washed up, replaced the bandages around my hands, and entered the living room.

Much like the previous night, my nephews were busy in the kitchen.

Rowen was unloading take out containers while Patrick pulled three beers from the fridge.

The smell of crispy fish and chips filled the space.

“I’m starving and that smells delicious,” I said as I joined them. They looked at me with surprise. “What?”

It was then that I realized my voice was upbeat and jovial.

“It’s just that you sound happy.” Patrick handed me a beer before clinking it with his own. “Did you have a good day with Chronos?”

The three of us sat down at my small dining room table before I answered.

“It was a great day,” I said as I explained how I brought Glenda to meet Chronos. I could tell both of my nephews were genuinely interested in my day. They listened with interest and asked questions. “Those two hit it off like they’d been best friends for years. By the end, they’d played so much that they tuckered each other out.”

Rowen and Patrick laughed as I described how Chronos and Glenda chased and nipped playfully at each other before trotting around the paddock like best buds.

It was an adorable image.

“Chronos seemed like a new horse,” I said at the end of my story. “When I left the barn, he was happily chowing down on feed. I already called Dr. Jen with the news.”

“We knew you’d figure it out,” Patrick said with a smile. “We never doubted you.”

I didn’t miss the note of pride in his voice. It felt nice that they were proud of me.

“That’s amazing news, Uncle Darcy,” Rowen added.

“Thanks,” I said. “I owe it all to something you said earlier today, Rowen.”

Rowen blinked coyly. “The distraction part?”

“No.” I smiled. “Though that’s a topic for another conversation.”

I popped a chip in my mouth and watched as both of my nephews’ eyebrows rose as they considered my statement.

They communicated silently and I wondered if they were going to spring a surprise on me before the end of the night. Interestingly enough, that fact alone didn’t terrify me.

Clearing my throat, I continued. “You mentioned how we all need a friend to get through the day. It was a good idea and I applied it to Chronos.”

“I generally have good ideas, Uncle Darcy.” He pushed his plate away once he’d eaten his fill. “Very good ideas.” He leaned back in his chair and sipped from his beer bottle. Then Rowen looked at his brother. “Don’t I, Patrick?”

Patrick choked on his beer. “Your timing is shit, Rowen.”

Rowen let out a bark of laughter before tossing over a wad of napkins.

I snickered into my beer bottle. I didn’t know the inside joke, but I felt certain it was sexual in nature. My groin tingled with awareness and I shifted in my chair to distract myself. Thank goodness the table hid my physical reaction.

“My timing is always perfect,” Rowen teased. He waggled his eyebrows at his brother. Patrick’s cheeks were turning red. “You’re so cute when you blush.”

Rowen isn’t wrong. I kept that thought to myself.

“Shut up,” Patrick mumbled without any heat. He got up and started collecting the take-out containers. To change the subject, he pointedly asked me, “And where’s Glenda the Good Dog Witch now, Uncle Darcy?”

It was my turn to laugh.

“I put a dog carrier in the corner of the barn.” I handed Patrick my empty container. “She and Chronos can talk to one another all night long if they want, but they aren’t in the same stall. Mr. Romano can figure out their dynamics when Dr. Jen returns them to the Romano Farm.”

Rowen nodded. “So your animal whisperer duties are complete for the night?”

Why did that feel like a loaded question?

“Yes,” I said. I took another sip from my beer. “Why?”

Patrick finished cleaning the table while Rowen picked up a black canvas bag from the floor. Standing on the other side of the table, he placed it on his chair while unrolling a clean towel on the dining table.

What was happening?

“We were just wondering if you already had evening activities planned,” Patrick added as he stood beside Rowen.

My heart ticked faster.

There was always something I needed to do for the animal shelter. Supplies to order. Reply to pet adoption inquires. A hundred other admin tasks. But all of that could wait.

Swallowing, I answered, “Nothing firm planned. I figured it would be a quiet night. Maybe a movie or something. Why? What did you have in mind?”

My nephews shared a conspiratorial smile.

“We thought we’d put on a live show for you, Uncle Darcy,” Patrick said.

Rowen elbowed Patrick in the ribs. “We?” He shook his head and smirked. “I will put on a show for you. Patrick has agreed to be my helper.” Rowen winked. “His payment is that he’s allowed to watch my performance.”

“My brother is all things generous,” Patrick deadpanned while rolling his eyes. That didn’t stop him from placing a possessive hand on his brother’s lower back.

I bit my lip. I was about to ask what “put on a show for me” meant, but Rowen immediately reached into the bag and starting removing items that left no doubt as to how they wanted the evening to progress.

The first item was a metal studded collar. The human kind, not the canine type.

“This looks good against my skin,” Rowen remarked. To illustrate his point, he put the collar briefly up to his neck before laying it on the towel. Then he lifted a lacy ensemble that looked like lingerie. “Patrick likes my pink lingerie better, but the black set matches the collar. What do you think, Uncle Darcy?”

I opened my mouth to say something, but only a squeak came out. The sparkle in Rowen’s golden brown eyes told me he noticed.

“I think Uncle Darcy agrees,” Patrick said with an endearing voice.

I needed another beer. Or maybe an ice cold shower. It was getting hot in here.

But more than that, I could tell that my nephews were making an effort to include me at a pace that I might find more comfortable. That meant more than everything else combined.

Smiling, I nodded and Rowen continued.

The next item was a bright purple dildo. “This one is my favorite,” he said. He showed me every angle. It was long, slim and curved with a fat head. “It hits all my favorite spots. Plus,” he said as he pointed out the suction base, “I can use it in the shower whenever I want.”

Jesus, I was going to die right now. I finished my beer and rubbed my face.

“That’s uh,” I said, my voice breaking, “a good feature.”

Rowen looked pleased with himself. I was beginning to realize I didn’t know the first thing about my nephews. I also realized I was enjoying how they were presenting this to me.

Other items joined the collection on the table. Nipple clamps. A vibrator. A cock sleeve. A silicone cock ring. Lube. Latex-free gloves. The last thing he pulled out was another small towel, which he placed over the other towel.

Then Rowen rolled it up and placed everything back in the bag.

“These are my instruments for tonight’s live show,” Rowen said. “I’m inviting you to come into the spare bedroom and watch me pleasure myself tonight. You’re free to just watch, but you also have permission to touch me—or yourself—if you decide you want to. How you participate is entirely up to you, Uncle Darcy.”

For a long moment, the kitchen was filled with silence. The air was thick and I struggled to inhale a full breath. I was hyper aware of them.

Patrick and Rowen studied me carefully. Where they checking to signs of panic? Did they fear I was going to run away?

That might have happened yesterday, but the level of care they were showing me tonight spoke volumes.

They wanted me.

Both of my nephews wanted me.

If I put my military observation skills to the test, I could see all of that, and more, through their body language.

They continuously adjusted their stance. Both were hard behind their jeans. Their eyes were heated and dilated. The way their pulses throbbed at their neck was also a big tell.

Patrick’s breath was more labored. He was nervous. More nervous than Rowen.

Rowen, for his part, was much more confident in his ability to entice any red-blooded human into wanting him. His uncertainly was in whether he could entice me.

Standing, I licked my lips and said, “I’d like to watch.”

They let out a collective sigh of relieve and I couldn’t help but smile. Wordlessly, I followed them to the spare bedroom.

Without wasting a single section, Rowen began to undress, and I knew everything from this point forward would be different.