Braided: A Velvet Glove Novel

SCREWDRIVER

An imprint of Torquere Press Publishers

PO Box 2545

Round Rock, TX 78680

Copyright © 2006 by Sean Michael

Cover illustration by S. Squires

Published with permission

ISBN: 978-1-60370-003-0, 1-60370-003-X

www.torquerepress.com

All rights reserved, which includes the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form
whatsoever except as provided by the U.S. Copyright Law. For information address Torquere Press.
Inc., PO Box 2545, Round Rock, TX 78680.

First Torquere Press Printing: May 2007

Printed in the USA

Prologue

Peter was going to scream if Paul didn't stop singing that stupid song.

He loved his twin, he did, but he hated when Paul got a song stuck in his head and started singing.

Hated it.

"Paul..."

Paul looked over, his eyes hidden behind contacts that looked like flames to match his red and
orange hair. "What?"

"S...stop it?"

"Stop what?"

"Singing."

"Singing what?"

Peter glared. "You kn...n...now what you were s...s...singing!"

"I wasn't singing. I was drawing." Paul stuck his tongue out. Oh... the little bastard had taken Peter’s
new tongue-rod, the glow-in-the-dark one.

"You w...w...w...weren't supposed to take that, Paul! It w...was for one of T...t...tap's new boys,
special o...ordered!"

"Take what? You can't take a song, Peter."

Oh. Oh! Peter was going to kill him.

Dead.

Peter rumbled and stood, slapping his hand down. "You are s...s...such a little prick!"

Paul stood up, stretching to lean over him. "Little, asshole?"

He puffed up, stepped closer. "N...n...no, you're a b...b...big, fat, asshole!"

There was a gentle knock on the door. "I hate to interrupt..."

Peter turned, looking over at the stocky redhead standing at the door. "Oh, n...n...no problem. We
can f...f...fight anytime."

Paul pinched his ass, made him squeak.

The man chuckled. "Yes, you seem quite practiced at it. I'm looking for the massage rooms. Hercules
said I couldn't miss them, but I have to admit, I've managed it."

"You're real close. They're two doors back, down that little hallway." Paul offered a grin and a
handshake, reaching around him. "Are you new?"

Paul's hand was taken, then his own hand was swallowed up in a big, beefy one, given a firm, but
gentle shake. "I am. Bowie. I'm going to be in charge of Massage."

"Hi. I'm P...p...p...p...p..." Fuck.

Paul piped up. "He's Peter. I'm Paul. Welcome!"

There was another deep chuckle. "Hello, Peter. Hello, Paul. So you two run body mods?"

They nodded.

"Peter's the piercer." Paul grinned. "And I ink."

"Nice to meet you. I guess we'll be neighbors."

"Yep. Just remember that we only sometimes mean the things we scream at each other."

Paul was such an ass.

"I m...m...mean it." He stuck his tongue out at Paul, chuckling as Paul leaned in and kissed it.

"Mmm…" Bowie made a soft, almost humming purr. "Well as long as you don't disturb my clients
with the screaming, we'll get along just fine."

"Hercules soundproofed the massage rooms." Paul's flame eyes were steady on him, making him a
little hot. "So we don't anymore."

"Good, good." Bowie's eyes flicked from him to Paul and back again, watching them.

"Well, if the tension ever gets too high -- there's nothing like a nice massage to loosen things up
again. And you know where to find me."

"And if you ever want to decorate, we're always here, experimenting..." Paul winked over, pointing
to him. His skin was all dyed a pale purple, hair silver and braided with little bells.

Bowie chuckled again, the sound low and rich, quiet. "I can see that. Tell me, does that color go all
over?"

Paul nodded, hands sliding around his waist and cupping his cock. "I shaved him and dyed him
myself." Peter felt his cheeks heat, but he leaned back into Paul and nodded.

There was that purr again, Bowie's eyes intent on them, dark and hot. "I bet that was a sight to see."

Paul nuzzled his cheek, hands holding him close, and he could feel Paul's cock rubbing against his
ass. The air in the room seemed heavy, hot. Interesting.

"He was beautiful. His cock is pierced and we put a purple barbell in, a pretty metal band around his
balls after they were clean."

"What about you," Bowie asked softly, almost breathlessly. "Are you shaved all over and what color
is your skin?"

"Right now, Peter's shaved all but a little triangle and died it to match my hair." Paul rubbed against
him, making him hot. "I've got the prettiest tattoos, too. Fish and flowers and birds." Not to mention
two little jeweled rings between balls and ass.

"You would look lovely bound together against a cream background. Naked and wanting, but not
able to touch each other."

"Not be able to touch?" Paul's voice was low, husky, hands unfastening his pants. "Why wouldn't we
be able to touch?"

"P...p...paul..." He stretched into the touches, eyes closing.

"There's many ways to achieve that," murmured Bowie, voice husky. The sounds of the door closing,
of the bolt sliding home, were loud. "You wouldn't be able to touch because you'd be tied, cuffed,
frozen how I pose you."

"Oh..." Paul was vibrating behind him, hand exposing his cock and stroking it. "You're good with
ropes? Good enough to handle two?"

"Good enough to handle you two."

Peter arched, crying out as Paul tugged the ring in the tip of his cock. Oh. Oh, they'd played together.
Sure, they'd played, but never from zero to nothing with a perfect stranger. Never.

Bowie stepped forward, pulling a leather tie out of a pocket. Quickly, easily, Bowie bound Peter's
cock and balls quite firmly.

Oh... Peter looked down, the leather dark and sexy against his skin, his cock and balls full and
throbbing. Paul touched him, fingers dancing and teasing. He met Bowie's eyes --green, they were
green -- moaning at the quiet hunger he found there.

Bowie's eyes didn't leave his, but the man still managed to grab Paul's wrists and bind them together
with another piece of leather, just above his belly, effectively trapping them both.

"Oh, sweet fuck." Paul moaned behind him, rubbing faster, harder, squeezing his arms down by his
sides.

Bowie walked slowly around them, nodding when he'd completed the circle. "Naked next time. I
would like to see your skin. All of it. Especially what happens once you're tied.

Will you both break out into a sweat? Pink up? Just the contrast between skin colors..."

"Oh..." He tilted his head back, blinking up at Paul, moaning low. Paul was licking those pretty, full
lips, watching Bowie's every move.

Bowie slowly sank down in front of him, looking up at them. "This is usually yours, isn't it, Paul? You
usually get to do this." Bowie's tongue slid across the tip of his cock, teasing the barbell.

That pushed a little cry from him, his cock throbbing, aching. Paul's sound was darker, almost
rumbling. "Yes. He's mine."

"But you can't have it right now. You're caught in my trap." One of Bowie's eyebrows went up. "With
a single piece of leather. One point of restraint and I take it for myself."

Bowie's mouth descended over his cock, sucking hard.

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

Peter arched into it, letting Paul support him as the world went white-hot and stayed there, his
nerves screaming.

Bowie's tongue played with his piercing, teeth teasing it, even as the sucking continued.

The copper-haired head was bobbing over his prick, pulling out his pleasure.

"Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh... I need t...to." He was whispering, rocking and whimpering and needing. Paul was
moving behind him, needing too, wanting to bend him over, fuck him.

Bowie chuckled around his cock and then pulled off. "So soon?" The man shook his head, fingers
working the leather around his prick and balls off. "If it wasn't working hours, I would teach you
patience."

Then the thick fingers slid behind his balls, pressing hard and massaging his gland from

the outside. "Come then, Peter."

He jerked, eyes going wide as heat slid down his spine and shot out his cock.

He distantly heard Paul's soft rumble. "We're not big on the whole patience thing, me and my Pete."

Bowie caught the spray full in the face, licking at his lips with a satisfied air. "Next time we play you
won't have a choice."

Bowie stood softly, bringing his face close to theirs. "Lick me clean boys, and we'll let you come,
Paul."

They moaned in harmony, leaning in and licking and lapping at Bowie's face, tongues working
together. Paul was faster, hungrier, that need still drilling into his spine.

Bowie sighed, breath warm and sweet on his skin. He licked at Bowie's lips, stealing a kiss. Bowie
chuckled and moved away, circling them again, stopping behind them.

He couldn't tell what Bowie was doing, but Paul's cock jerked against his back. "Go on, Paul. Join
your brother in pleasure."

Paul's arms squeezed him as heat sprayed against him, Paul's cry rich and low.

Bowie walked slowly around them again and untied Paul's hands. Their cheeks were softly stroked
and then Bowie walked to the door, unlocking it. "You boys know where to find me."

Paul held onto him tight, supporting and supported all at once. "We do. When does your shift end?"

"Midnight." Bowie smiled, heat still in the green eyes and then he turned, braid swinging against his
back as he walked away.

Peter turned, pushed into Paul's arms, lifting his face for a kiss. "Wh...wh...what?"

Paul chuckled and licked his lips. "We were quite nicely taken in hand, Pete."

"Mmm..." The kiss deepened, grew sweet and heady. "We g...g...going to play, Paulie?"

"Oh, yes. I think we are, Pete." Paul grinned, flame eyes dancing, pierced tongue flicking out at him.
"I think we most definitely are."

Chapter One

It had been a good first day.

Bowie had introduced himself to the staff, explained how he liked to do things and gotten to know
the equipment before they'd had their first client. The Velvet Glove’s massage room had all the
latest machines, the best and most comfortable massage tables, the warmest, softest towels, as
could only be expected in the galaxy’s premiere BDSM club.

He'd discovered that many of the paired clients came in to use the equipment, but wanted to
massage each other; others wanted a massage and would book it with a specific masseuse. He knew
his own schedule would soon be full once word of mouth got around about his talents, until then, he
was more than content to just get to know the place and the clients and pick up the slack where it
was needed.

When midnight rolled around, he signed off on the day's paperwork, sent a report in to Hercules, the
club’s owner, and locked the place up. He adjusted himself just before leaving -- he'd had a bit of a
hard on the whole day thanks to the beautiful brothers who ran the ink and piercing shop. There was
so much passion there and he itched to tap into it.

He'd made his interest clear though -- they'd have to come to him if they wanted more. He closed
the door behind him and palmed it, impressed that the club already had his palmprint coded in. This
was indeed a topnotch club. He was lucky to have found a place here. Oh, a masseur was never out
of work, but at a place like the Velvet Glove he could also indulge in his own sexual proclivities
without worry.

Bowie heard a low, soft moan and turned. There was Paul, flaming hair bright against the wall, eyes
watching him as Peter knelt, silver head bobbing over Paul's hard cock. "It's after midnight. We
waited for you."

He purred softly, cock immediately hard. "Waited impatiently I see. Stop that, Peter."

Paul's eyes went wide, and Peter slowly pulled back to turn beautiful dark eyes towards him. Peter's
lips were swollen and shining, tongue flicking out to lick them. "Hmm?"

"I said stop. We can go to one of the playrooms downstairs or to your rooms -- I haven't even seen
mine yet -- but you'll stop now. Paul can wait." Such beautiful boys.

"But..." Paul moaned, cock bouncing as Peter kissed the tip and stood.

Peter gave him a quiet little grin. "Our r...r...rooms are close."

"Good. I prefer privacy until we know each other better." He held out his hands to them.

They came to him, Peter taking his right hand, Paul his left. They smelled delicious, all heat and sex
and musk as they surrounded him. He could get used to this. To them.

He let them lead him to the lift. "I trust you both had a good day."

Peter nodded and Paul gave him a grin. "We did. Pete taught a top how to do a nipple piercing and I
worked on Zane for a while and then did some drawings for Des. He has a new partner and I so want
to ink him and..."

Bowie chuckled. "Anymore arguments?"

Peter shook his head. "We w...w...were..."

"Not in a fighting place,” finished Paul.

He purred softly as the lift doors open. He imagined he wasn't being egotistical when he guessed
that that might be because of him.

"We're in number fifty six and fifty eight. We share." Peter stepped away as Paul spoke to open the
door on a kaleidoscope of colors and objects. There was art and toys and chaos and it was little
wonder these two fought, they had no order between them.

"Interesting." His fingers itched to organize, but he resisted -- his fingers itched more to touch them,
to bind them, to make love to them. "You have a playroom? Or a bedroom?"

"We have a workroom and a playroom and a big, big bedroom." Paul walked them through the
mess, towards the back.

"I only have a few scraps of leather with me. The rest of my stuff is en route to be delivered in the
morning. What kind of a night would you like?" He could certainly improvise. Or they could all just
fuck like vole-weasels.

"Let's go to bed. It's comfy and big and warm." Paul grinned wickedly. "And I'll never get my blowjob
if we go to the playroom."

"Oh? Why is that?"

Paul tilted his head. "Because you'll have wicked ideas in the playroom and we can just fuck in the
bed."

Peter chuckled.

Bowie inclined his head. "Oh, I'm looking forward to seeing it. But for tonight fucking in bed sounds
like fun." No discipline in these two. The reasons for their arguing kept growing by leaps and bounds.

"Fun. We're good at fun." Paul bounced into a room that was almost all bed -- dozens of pillows and
blankets piled atop it. The colors amazed him -- reds and greens and blues and yellows all screaming
for attention -- sort of like the two decorated brothers wrestling to beat each other to the mattress.

"Stop." He said it quietly, but deadly seriously.

They stopped, two sets of eyes fastened on him, the two almost vibrating together.

He slowly began to remove his clothing, folding it neatly and leaving it by the door. "You have both
come today. I have not. I believe I should be first on the bed and first to be pleasured." How much
patience did they have without being bound? It was time to see.

Peter leaned up and whispered something to Paul and Paul nodded. Then they both moved to touch
him, help him strip away the rest of his clothes, hands gentle and warm and eager.

"We're sorry. We're just excited. We don't mean to seem selfish, honest."

"I didn't think you were selfish just... overeager." He moaned softly, enjoying their touches.

Peter knelt before him, nuzzling his belly while Paul's mouth slid down his spine. "Yeah. Eager."

He purred, hands sliding through Peter's silver hair. "Bed, my Pets, let us make it to the bed."

Peter nodded, cheek soft on his hip. "Yeah?"

"'kay. He has cute freckles, Petey."

He chuckled. "Cute? I can't remember the last time someone called me cute."

A hot tongue drew a pattern on his ass. "Adorable?"

Peter giggled.

"Bed," he growled, more pleased than he was willing to admit to these two firebrands.

"Yes, Bowie." The voices came together, then the two wicked boys were tugging him into the mass
of covers.

It was soft and wonderful and smelled like them and he lay back, opening his arms. Two bodies
pushed up against him, rubbing and touching, writhing against him and each other.

Oh...

He'd done a threesome once. A long time ago. And he'd topped two more than once, but there had
never been sex involved. This was... this was hot. He moaned, hips pushing, searching for them to
rub against.

Two hands dropped over his cock, working together with sure, strong strokes, the brothers kissing as
he watched. So pretty, so hot and eager, Paul's tongue deep in Peter's mouth. Groaning, he rubbed
their asses in his hands.

Peter leaned back. "Want m...m...me to suck him?"

He purred but shook his head. "You boys must know what a sixty-nine is, yeah? Let's do it with three.
All get our rocks off."

Peter's moan was an answer and then the soft, hot mouth dropped over his cock, sucking hard.

"Oh yes, come here, Paul. Let me have you."

He helped Paul maneuver around and took the eager prick into his mouth, tongue playing over the
hot flesh. He felt a moan around his own cock as Peter's was taken, the suction growing stronger,

steadier, tongue lapping at his shaft. He sucked harder himself, feeling the circle of pleasure vibrate
through him.

There were two small, heavy rings behind Paul's balls, warm to the touch, smooth under his fingers.
They made him moan, cock jerking in Peter's mouth. He hummed around Paul's prick, one finger
hooking into the rings, testing them, feeling the way the metal had picked up the heat from Paul's
body. Then he gave them a quick tug.

He heard a sharp cry, Paul's hips jerking, pushing that hard cock into his lips. He sucked harder, his
own hips moving now, pushing deep into Peter's throat as his fingers played with the rings, tugging
and twisting them. Peter took him in deep, all the way to the root, humming around his cock even as
Paul's movement grew erratic, graceless.

Bowie pushed his little finger into Paul's hole as he sucked even harder, determined to send Paul
over first. That tiny hole clenched and seed filled his mouth, the long cock pulsing. He swallowed it
down and continued to suck softly, finger moving within Paul's ass, pulling out shuddering
aftershocks from the man.

Paul's pleasure ensured, Bowie could concentrate on his own, Peter's mouth hot and good around
his cock. Peter's tongue worked the tip of his prick, then those lips sank down again and again,
Peter's hands tugging him in deep.

He held onto Paul's rings with one hand, the other finding the sheets and digging in as he started to
hump up, meeting Peter's mouth more than halfway.

Peter cried out around his cock, pulling hard and shuddering.

"Yes!" He shoved in deep and came down Peter's throat, pleasure going up his spine like a shock.
Peter swallowed around him, moaning low.

He lay there with them, purring himself, feeling good in his skin. The boys curled around him, hands
sliding over him, happy little sounds filling the air.

They were pretty and sexy and eager and hot.

Peter's purple skin drew his hands, his fingers searching out the hottest spots, the spots that made
Peter grin. And Paul. Paul was all lanky muscles and smooth skin.

They were an interesting mixture of similarity and difference. Peter was shorter, smaller, nipple and
cock pierced, tiny pale tattoos almost hidden in the purple dye. Paul as well-tattooed with colorful,
fanciful animals and beasts and flowers. But they were both warm and the shapes of their faces --
the long noses, almond-shaped eyes -- those were the same.

"So tell me, boys -- what do you like best? Favorite food? Favorite piercing on yourself, on your
lover? Favorite color? Favorite position? Do you like a flogger or a strap better?"

He wanted to know everything about them.

Paul started laughing. "I like clams, Peter likes chocolate. I love the tongue piercing, want Pete to get
one. Pete likes his nipple. We both love colors and I like fucking Pete's mouth and... What was the
other?"

"Fl...fl...fl...."

"Oh, right. Peter's skin shows the blows perfectly, much better than mine."

"Do you always talk for your brother, Paul?" He stroked Paul's lips, thinking the man would look
lovely in a gag.

"No. Pete just talks slow. Stutters. It's horrible waiting. Beside, I know what he'd say."

Paul kissed his fingers, nuzzling them.

He frowned. That wasn't going to encourage Peter to talk. Not at all. Oh yes, he would have to go
through his things and find a nice, soft gag to keep Paul quiet, make the man wait for his brother to
express himself. "Oh you do, do you? Peter? Does he? Always?"

Peter nodded, dark eyes smiling up at him. "A...a...a...almost."

Paul reached down and tweaked Peter's nipple. "Liar! When was the last time I was wrong?"

Peter stuck his tongue out. "My favorite color is b...b...b...blue."

Bowie chuckled. Oh, they were a delight.

"I think whenever we're in a scene, I would like Peter to do the talking. If that's a problem we'll just
make sure your mouth is always full, Paul."

Two wide sets of eyes met his, the boys looking shocked. "But..."

"Full?"

"Oh."

"I..."

"What's this? Speechless?" He chuckled again, hands stroking down along their spines.

"You're going to make me think that you're either pushovers or I'm just that good."

"We're not pushovers!" Paul gave him an outraged look and snorted. "We don't know if you're that
good yet. What you like, what's your favorite color, that shit."

Peter giggled. "We know he t...t...tastes good."

"I don't know yet." Paul pouted.

"Well feel free to find out for yourself." He wasn't going to say no to another blow job. It would be
interesting to see if Paul's technique would be different from Peter's. Not to mention he'd never
been fellated by anyone with a tongue piercing before.

"But... you didn't tell us anything. Where are you from? What turns you on? What don't you like?"
Paul stuck out that pierced tongue, the barbell glowing.

"You'll have to earn information. I've come once, so you get one question." He held up his hand.
"Peter gets one question."

Paul blinked, but Peter grinned and rubbed one cheek against his chest. "W...w...what gets you
o...o...off?"

He purred approvingly. "Control. Having it. Using it. Ceding it. Keeping it. Taking it from another.
Giving it back. Turning people on their heads -- figuratively. Sex. Mouths and asses, cocks."

Peter cuddled closer, leg sliding along his.

"He likes that sound you make."

"I know, Paul, he just told me." The boy really did need to learn to let Peter speak for himself, to be
patient.

"He did not. I was right here."

Peter reached up and grabbed Paul, kissing him thoroughly. "Shh..."

"He did, you know." Bowie stroked their lips, touching them where they merged. "He just didn't use
words.”

They leaned down, bringing him into the kiss, sharing their flavors with him. He purred again. They
did taste nice, especially together, the flavor of his own come still mixed in.

Peter made a soft little sound in response, which made Paul chuckle, the laughter warm and fond
against his lips.

"What do you like about me?" he asked Paul softly. He wasn't fishing for complements, just evening
the playing field between them.

Paul cupped one hand beneath the flame colored eyes, popping out the contacts and allowing him
to see the rich, dark brown that matched his brother. "I like how you see us."

He moaned, eyes on Paul's as he brought their lips together. Paul sank into the kiss, all warmth and
ease, Peter settling beside, watching. He put his hand behind Paul's head, tilting it slightly so he
could push his tongue in deep as he stroked the hot skull. Paul moaned, lips wrapping around his
tongue and sucking, the tongue piercing sliding against him.

That made him growl, made his prick jerk. "I want to feel that on my cock," he told Paul, finger
sliding in to touch the piercing.

Paul fastened over his finger, sucking hard, tongue teasing.

He managed to chuckle, though it was much thicker than usual. "That's not my cock, Paul."

Paul grinned, licking his finger once more. "Why no. No, it's not."

He chuckled again. "Cheeky."

Peter giggled as Paul licked down his body, nuzzling his belly, teasing his cock.

"You -- talk to me or kiss me – either one’s going to make it good,” he told Peter.

"T...talk to you?" Peter's eyes went wide and he received a hard kiss, Peter's tongue pushing in as
Paul's mouth surrounded his cock. He made a soft noise, happy with the kiss and the sucking, though
he would make Peter talk in the future. A lot.

In the meantime their mouths were wonderful -- hot and wet and driving him wild. The hard
smoothness on Paul's tongue was maddening and Peter's hands on his nipples were driving him
insane. He writhed beneath their touches, hips pushing, wanting more from Paul, more of that metal
teasing his cock, more of Peter's knowing touches.

Paul started pressing into the tip of his cock, fucking his prick with the smooth ball of the piercing.

"Fuck!" Surprised, aroused, he jerked and shot, the orgasm dragging through his spine.

Peter grinned at him, chuckling as Paul swallowed. "N...n...neat trick."

"Yeah." His voice was hoarse, shudders still going through him as Paul cleaned him.

"Yeah." Peter nodded and reached down, stroking Paul's hair, the motion relaxed and easy.

He moaned happily, and settled his ass into the softness of the bed. "Invite me to stay the night."

Two sets of dark eyes smiled at him. "Stay?"

"Yes, I do think I will."

The boys curled together, still around him, moaning softly, bodies soft and warm.

Oh, yes, he thought. It had indeed been a very good first day.

Chapter Two

Paul had been good as long as he could. He'd been up for hours.

Hours.

Okay, twenty minutes, but still.

He bounced onto Peter with a grin, giggling at the 'oof' and the groan and the roll. Of course, the roll
knocked him off onto the floor into the laundry and he pulled Peter down on top of him where he
could tug the nipple ring.

"Bitch!"

"Morning, brother!"

"P...p...paul!"

"Yep. Been up for days. Hungry. Bored."

Peter curled back up into the blankets, squealing as his hands squeezed that tight ass.

A growl froze them both and Bowie's head popped up over the edge of the bed, green eyes looking
right at him. "Someone needs to learn some manners."

Peter peeped and disappeared under the blankets and he stuck his tongue out. "I didn't jump on
you! I jumped on him! You can sleep, honest."

One of Bowie's eyebrows went up. "I'm awake now. Peter -- there's some leather scraps in my pants
pockets. Go get them for me."

Peter wiggled, trying to get out of the blanket, and he sat harder, thumping Peter's ass.

"Traitor! Whose side are you on?"

"His own, I presume," Bowie answered for Peter. "As you won't let him up you go get the leather for
me."

"I... Which pants are yours?" Peter reached out, snagging Bowie's pants and holding them up for
him. "Thanks, Petey."

"Welcome."

Bowie, looking less and less impressed, held out his hand imperiously.

He had the good graces to be embarrassed, reaching down into the blankets for his brother after
handing the pants over. "I think he's pissed at us, Petey. Get up?"

Peter nodded, scooting up to settle on the bed between him and Bowie.

"M...m...m...morning." Oh, his brother loved him so.

Bowie's eyebrow was still raised as he fished out the scraps of leather from his pockets before
refolding the pants. "Good morning, Peter. Would you be so kind as to hold your brother's hands by
the bedstead? You may return my pants to the pile with the rest of my clothes when you're done."

"P...p....paul?" Peter slowly drew his hands over to the bedpost, fingers stroking his wrists, eyes still
on Bowie.

Well, it wasn't boring, was it?

Bowie nodded. "Quite right, Peter, I'm sorry. Stop for a moment, both of you. I need yellow and red
light words."

"We use yellow and red. Both of us." Peter nodded, agreeing with him.

"That's easy to remember." Bowie gave Peter a sharp look. "No more questioning my orders. If your
brother is uncomfortable with a scenario he'll either yellow or red or if you are uncomfortable you
will yellow or red. Otherwise what I say goes. Without question."

Peter shivered, looking over at him and he smiled. He loved playing. Loved it. And Bowie it seemed
was very good at playing. Too bad neither of them were good at unquestioning obedience.

Peter took his hands, held them for Bowie.

"Better." Bowie efficiently tied his hands to the bedpost and then tied his feet together. A third bit of
leather held his balls and prick in a tight, but not quite uncomfortable vise.

Peter took Bowie's pants and put them with Bowie's other clothes, then sort of edged around the
room, eyes wide.

"He's not really awake yet and we've not had a... a morning dom,” Paul explained.

Bowie ignored him completely in favor of holding his hand out to Peter. "Come. Make love with me."

"Hey! No fair!" Paul pouted dramatically at both of them as Peter picked his way across the floor to
Bowie.

Bowie gave him a quiet look. "Perhaps tomorrow morning you will be more patient and less loud."

Then the man's attention turned again to Peter.

"I was patient for hours and you're going to be nice to him because he's lazy?" Oh, now, that was no
fair.

Peter shook his head, the silver hair pretty in the morning light -- even if he was pissed at the short
little shit -- glistening against the violet skin.

Bowie just ignored him, taking Peter's hands and pulling him onto the bed, bringing their mouths
together, Bowie's skin so pale next to the purple of Peter's.

Oh, they were really pretty together.

Assholes.

Bowie turned Peter onto his back on the bed and leaned against him, kissing him.

And kissing him.

And kissing him.

Just how long were they going to just kiss?

Paul tugged against the bonds. "If you two are going to keep being boring, then I'm going to go away
and find someone to fuck. You hear that, Peter?" He had the satisfaction of seeing Peter stiffen, toes
curl.

Bowie looked up at him. "Do I need to gag you?"

Oh.

Oh. Wow.

His cock sort of went boing and he shook his head. "No. Nope."

Bowie looked at him a moment longer and then returned to kissing Peter, entire focus on his twin.
This time Bowie also slid his fingers along Peter's violet skin, slowly exploring.

Peter moaned softly, relaxing under the touches, dyed fingers sliding up along Bowie's spine. Oh,
God. He knew how good that felt.

Bowie's fingers found Peter's nipple ring, tugging and twisting it. Peter gave a soft, muffled cry and
Paul moaned, tugging at the leather again. He wanted to play, too.

Bowie moaned as well, moving slowly against Peter. He could see that long, fat prick slide along his
brother's thigh.

"No fair... I want to play, too. Please." He didn't even notice his mouth moving, just heard the sounds
float through the air.

Bowie didn't seem to even hear him, moving down Peter's body to lick at the unadorned nipple.
Peter arched, soft little moaning sounds making his balls ache. Those were his sounds. His. Bowie
kept pulling them out of Peter with his mouth and fingers, licking from one nipple to the other,
fingers also rolling Peter's balls.

"Stop. Those are my sounds. I make him feel good. Me." But he could see the pleasure Peter was
experiencing, the same pleasure they all shared last night.

He was ignored again, Bowie sliding his tongue in Peter's navel. Peter arched, legs parting, eyes
closed in pleasure.

Fuck, they were mean.

Really, really mean.

Bowie moaned, fingers going back to Peter's nipples as he licked at the tip of Peter's cock.

"Peter..." He could see the hint of flush on Peter's body, the way his brother's breath sped.

Bowie sucked the tip in for a moment and then licked his way down Peter's cock. Each ball was
licked, loved on and then Bowie pushed Peter's legs further apart and buried his face in Peter's ass.
Peter arched, fingers curling into the sheets and Paul groaned, growling and tugging and wanting
free.

Bowie stayed down between Peter's legs for a long time, driving his twin crazy.

"Gonna... Bowie. G...gonna come. Cl...close."

Oh. Oh, those happy, breathless sounds belonged to him. "Mine. Damn it."

Bowie rose up over Peter, pushing those purple thighs over his arms and surging into Peter's body.
Paul and Peter cried out together, both of them jerking as Bowie pushed deep. Bowie groaned, face
bright with pleasure, copper hair sliding over his shoulders, over Peter's skin as Bowie fucked his
brother.

Peter was moaning, crying out, hands burying in Bowie's hair. Traitor. Evil traitor.

God, he wanted some of that.

Right now.

"That's it, Peter. Oh, you're tight. Good. Come for me? Come on my cock. Let me feel your pleasure."

"Yes. Y...yes..." Peter smiled and whimpered and arched, the scent of come strong on the air.

Bowie moaned, hips snapping hard and then freezing as Bowie cried out.

"You're both so mean..." Paul whimpered, rubbing his cock the best he could.

Bowie rested against Peter, still deep inside his twin. Bowie turned them both to look at him. "You
need something, Paul?"

"You're mean. I ache. Petey. Peter, please..." His hips rocked.

Bowie turned back to Peter and kissed him again, slow and sated and long. "Do you think he
deserves relief, Peter?"

Peter -- good, sweet, giving, loving man that he was -- nodded. "He l...l...looks unhappy, Bowie, and
so hard."

"You're a good man, Peter." Bowie kissed his twin again and leaned up to undo his hands, freeing
one. "You can make yourself come. We'll watch."

He whimpered, hand pumping his cock hard. "I have Peter's mouth every... oh, every morning..."

"And what does Peter have?"

He blinked over. "My cock." That? Was a way stupid question.

"You mean he gets the pleasure every morning of sucking you off?"

He nodded, smiling into Peter's lovely eyes.

Bowie looked at him for a long moment and then began to laugh. He and Peter gave Bowie a
confused look, then Peter turned those eyes back to him, smiling.

He shrugged, pumping faster, harder.

Bowie stopped watching him, leaning in instead to lick at Peter's neck. Peter shivered, stretched,
pretty lips parting.

"Oh. Oh, Peter... So pretty." His brother flushed, gasping.

"He is," murmured Bowie. "Beautiful. Sexy. Tastes good." Each word was punctuated by licks and
kisses.

"He's mine." Except Peter didn't look like he was protesting at all, did he? Peter's cock was filling as
Peter rocked against Bowie, looking over the bed, matching eyes staring.

"Is he?" There was amusement in Bowie's eyes as he bent to lick at the pretty neck.

"Uh-huh." He nodded, groaning in concert with Peter. "Up. Up just a little. He's... Oh...Oh... Mad
sensitive."

Bowie followed his direction, teasing Peter with just the tip of his tongue.

Peter jerked, crying out and shifting out of Bowie's arms, fingers going to his neck. "Oh. Oh, too
much. So so so much. M...m...makes me ache."

Paul grinned, thighs parting as his balls drew up. "See?"

"You're beautiful when you ache," Bowie told Peter, mouth returning to the patch of skin on his
twin's neck.

"Oh. Oh. Oh." Peter went wild, ass rubbing against Bowie furiously and Paul finally came from the
sight, spunk shooting from him.

Bowie rubbed back in return. "Do you want to taste him, Peter? Or finish here first?"

"I..." Peter stretched, looking at him, not wanting to upset either of them. Sweet love.

"I'm cool, Petey." He pumped his cock. "Cool."

Bowie purred. "There you go, Paul. That's what I want to see. Peter, how about you clean him and
suck him while I fuck you, hmm?"

Peter nodded eagerly, giving Bowie a happy kiss before turning to lick his hand and his belly, hot,
hungry little tongue sliding over his skin.

"You can touch Peter with your free hand," Bowie told him as the man slid two fingers into his Peter.

"He's so pretty." He let Peter lick his fingers clean, then stroked the soft silver hair.

"Both are," grunted Bowie, cock replacing fingers inside Peter.

"Mmm." He smiled over, feeling Peter panting against his belly. "You're stretching him so wide..."

"I am." Bowie's eyes met his, the pleasure in them clear.

He ran his hand down Peter's back, towards Bowie.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, I said you could touch Peter."

"I am. See? Palm on Peter. Fingers on you." He grinned up, licking his lips.

"Peter? Tie his hand back up."

"Hmm?" Peter looked up, blinking slowly. "D...don't thrust, 'kay? I'll f...fall."

"Don't you do it, Pete. I want to touch."

Peter frowned, reaching for his hand. "I... But... H...h...he's the top. R...r...right?"

Bowie's fingers slid along Peter's spine. "That's right, Peter. Tie his hand up and then you can gag
him."

He saw Peter's eyes go wide, those sure fingers drawing his hand back to bind it with the leather
strap.

Then what Bowie said hit him and he shook his head. "No. No gags. I don't like gags. I don't."

That eyebrow of Bowie's went up again. "I warned you, Paul."

"But... I didn't think you were serious. Nobody's ever serious. Please." He gave Bowie his best pitiful
look. God, his heart was pounding.

"Gag him, Peter."

"I..." Peter looked around. "Wh...what with? I... Oh! There's a handkerchief."

"Peter! Don't you dare! I don't like gags!"

Peter gave him a long look. "Y...you gonna s....s..safe word?"

"That's cheating."

Peter leaned down, stretching for the gag.

"No, Paul, what you are doing is cheating. We are merely forcing you to behave."

He met Bowie's eyes, shook his head. "I don't... Peter's not supposed to be on your side."

"There aren't supposed to be any sides here, Paul."

"There are always sides."

He watched as Peter brought the gag up, his twin whispering. "This is about f...f..feeling, Paul. I...isn't
that what you t..t..told me? Feeling e...e...everything."

"Your brother is smarter than you give him credit for, Paul. Relax, take the gag and next time you will
remember and not speak out of turn."

Peter gagged him with a gentle touch, fingers trailing over his cheeks.

Bowie purred. "Good boy."

Then Bowie began to thrust, fucking Peter with long, slow strokes. Peter leaned down, mouth sliding
against his cock, his balls, moaning and humming against him.

"Very, very pretty. Both of you." Bowie kept the easy pace going, drawing the pleasure out.

He moaned, trying to speak, hips rocking him into Peter's mouth. Bowie looked pleased, increasing
the pace, hand sliding over Peter's back and then cupping his face. He nuzzled down into Bowie's
touch, a low sound caught in his throat.

"Pretty pet," murmured Bowie, those green eyes watching him.

Oh. Oh, fuck. He was so hard again, aching. Happy. Rubbing his cheek into Bowie's hand like a cat.

Bowie continued to fuck Peter, hand on his cheek, eyes on his face, making him a part of each thrust.
He just relaxed, fucking Peter's mouth with the same rhythm Bowie took that sweet ass.

Bowie's free hand slid around Peter's hip, wrapping around Peter's cock. "Soon, my Pets."

Peter hummed, moaned, swallowed around his cock, making him jerk, push deep.

"That's it, come for me. Come for me."

He arched and a dark flush crept up Peter's spine, body shivering as the scent of come filled the air,
sparking his orgasm.

"Yes." Bowie's eyes glittered like emeralds as he came.

Paul slumped, muscles going limp, curling over Peter's head.

Bowie pulled out of Peter and placed a kiss on the small of his back. The man hummed softly as he
pulled away the gag and undid the bindings, settling him next to his twin.

Peter cuddled in close, face lifting for a kiss, which Paul gave eagerly, loving the flavor of his come on
those lips.

Bowie caressed them both. "I'm taking a shower, Pets."

They nodded, then he smiled into Peter's eyes.

Maybe, if Bowie hadn't insisted on the gag before, he'd have warned the man about the lizards in
the bathroom.

Maybe.

***

The lizards were a surprise. Though they probably shouldn't have been. It fit. He imagined Paul was
hoping for a shriek of surprise and was glad he wasn't scared of lizards or he may have given it.

Bowie chuckled. They were a pair. Sexy. Sassy. In need of a strong hand. He stepped into the shower,
letting the hot water clean the sweat from him. He had a strong hand. Two of them in fact. One for
each beautiful twin. Chuckling, he soaped himself up and then began to sing.

The bathroom door opened, the twins wandering in, draped over each other, purple soft against the
flame-red.

Oh yes, very sexy. Very very sexy.

He stepped back, giving them room to join him.

They stepped in, giggling and pretty -- violet and red becoming wet and dark and making them even
more similar. Paul's hands slid over Peter's cock. "Need to shave you, Petey."

"Would you like that, Peter?" Bowie asked. Paul was altogether too eager to get his own way, to
bowl Peter over to get it.

Peter blinked and met his eyes, shrugging, blushing. "P...p...paul likes it."

Paul nuzzled Peter's neck, making the silver haired twin jerk. "He loves it. He's so smooth after."

"No, Paul -- you love it. I would like to know if Peter likes it." He tugged them apart.

"Peter? Do you like it?"

Peter nodded, hiding behind the wet hair, behind the spray of the water.

Paul crowed. "See?"

"I see that you have entirely too big of a mouth." He shook his head and chuckled. "You must learn
to let Peter speak for himself."

Paul pushed up against him, lips soft on his cheek. "I know what he needs, though. I know him."

"Mmm... I'm sure you do." He slid his hand along Paul's spine. "But you also have a habit of
subsuming his needs to your own."

"Hey! Peter's not unhappy." Paul bent back over his arm, looking at Peter. "Tell Bowie you're happy,
Petey."

Peter nodded. "I am."

Paul stroked Peter's belly, drawing a warm, fond smile from his twin. "See? Happy."

Bowie chuckled. "I do not believe Peter is unhappy, I believe that you run roughshod over him."

"Me? Not even a bit. Honest." Paul laughed, tugging Peter close for a long deep kiss that left Peter
gasping.

He grinned, leaning back against the tile to watch them. They were indeed a beautiful, sexy pair.

Paul pressed Peter back against the tile, hands shampooing Peter's hair, running through the silver
strands. "You're getting roots, love."

The dynamics between them were fascinating. Especially the way Peter let Paul lead.

Peter stretched, hands sliding over his twin, sliding to separate the perfect thighs, the firm ass.

"Are you going to make love?" he asked them.

"We already are. Come here and we'll wash you, too." The words were Paul's, but the hand that was
held out was Peter's.

He purred, taking Peter's hand and letting them pull him close. Four hands slid over his skin, washing
his hair, the sounds of Peter's laughter and Paul's murmurs soft and sensual.

It felt good. He could get used to this.

Paul washed his hair, Peter massaged his back -- they worked together in an odd unison.

Fire and ice, these two.

He closed his eyes and enjoyed just being with them. No top and bottom space, no worrying over
who was doing or saying what -- just enjoying the sensations of their hands on his skin, his on theirs.
They were warm and close, sensual and playful, dark eyes dancing as they enjoyed the water.

As they enjoyed him.

Paul was definitely the leader, but Peter was an eager follower and their kisses filled his mouth with
two tongues, Paul's piercing an interesting, almost shocking sensation. Paul's hand circled his neck,
Peter's curled in the small of his spine. They were temptations --wicked and gentle and yielding and
demanding all at once.

And he hadn't come so much in such a short period since he was teenager furtively rubbing himself
at night. Already, his cock was full and heavy again, inspired by their touches, by their bodies.

They were so different -- Peter was a cuddler, offering long lazy kisses, focusing on the sensations.
Paul was more dynamic, passion burning hotter, wanting more, now. "Do you want to fuck me,
Paul?" He wanted to feel that passion and eagerness inside him.

Paul's groan pushed into his mouth, along with a quiet chuckle from Peter, who smiled at him, eyes
twinkling. "I...I...I think that's a yes."

"I do, too." He rubbed Peter's nose with his own. "I'll want you after -- to know the similarities and
differences."

Peter gave him another soft smile, fingers whisper-soft against his face. "Y...you want me to suck
you?"

A shudder went through him and his groan was as much eager agreement as Paul's had been. "Only
if you want to," he whispered. He didn't want this to be about playing, about tops and bottoms.

"W...want to." They moved, Peter dropping to his knees while Paul shifted behind him, fingers sliding
into his crease.

"It's been awhile," he warned as little shivers of pleasure slid up his spine.

"I won't hurt you." The fingers disappeared, returned hot and slick, teasing his hole.

"I didn't think you would." He gasped, hands dropping to Peter's shoulders for balance as he spread
his legs.

Peter rubbed a soft cheek against his cock, managing to move in time with Paul's fingers in his ass. A
moan left him and he spread his legs wider still, hips beginning to move as he pushed into one
sensation and then the other.

Peter hummed softly and Paul groaned, lips trailing over his shoulder. "Such strength."

He purred, accepting the compliment as another caress.

As Paul stretched him, Peter licked and nuzzled and teased, dark eyes watching him intently. He
smiled down at Peter, letting go of one shoulder to slide his fingers over the warm cheek and
through the shining silver hair. Peter nuzzled into the touch, licking the tip of his prick as Paul's long,
thin cock slid inside him.

Gasping, he tightened his grip on Peter's shoulder. "Oh.... Oh."

"Breathe." Peter whispered the word before taking his cock all the way in, surrounding him in heat.

It was good advice and he took it, letting his breath out with another gasp. It felt so very good.
Intense.

They took him, Peter's rhythm slow and steady, a firm counterpoint to Paul's faster strokes. He
shifted his hands from Peter to the wall, palms flat against the tiles. The way they worked him he
couldn't move with them, could only accept their movements, take the pleasure they were giving.

Peter's hands slid around his hips, stroking the place where Paul was pushing inside him.

He cried out. Was there anything sexier than these two?

"One day, I'll tell you about the first day I fucked him, how tight he was, how he rode me and was so
pretty..." Paul jerked, pushing harder, whispering in his ear.

He groaned, his body grasping at Paul's cock. "Soon," he muttered, ripples of pleasure moving
through him.

"Yeah. Suck him down, Petey. Make him come." Paul thrust deep, pushing in again and again.

Bowie shouted out, hips snapping hard as he came, cock pulsing into Peter's throat. Heat filled him
even as Peter swallowed around his cock, Paul's groan low and sweet. Panting, he managed to stay
upright, one hand dropping to Peter's head again, sliding through the bright hair. Those dark eyes
twinkled, then Peter kissed his belly and slid away, out of the shower.

Paul chuckled, the sound breathless. "Must be losing the hot water. Peter hates cold water. Either
that or he's decided it's time to eat. He's very sure about eating."

He pet Paul's hand and shifted, pulling them apart. Perhaps that was what it was. He didn't pretend
to know the twins though and would not assume.

He kissed Paul softly. "Thank you -- it was wonderful."

Then he followed Peter out of the shower. "Peter?"

"Hmm?" Peter had found a thick robe in the chaos and was toweling his hair, music now being piped
into the room.

"Is everything all right?" He found himself a towel and began to dry off.

Peter gave him surprised little look, hair wild and tousled, hands reaching to help him dry himself.

"You took off so fast -- I don't even know if you took your own pleasure when your brother and I
came." He had a feeling it would be very easy to overlook this one, despite the bright plumage, and
he would not do so.

"I told you -- he doesn't like the water when it cools. Hells, Bowie, he came twice this morning and
he usually waits until lunchtime." Paul hopped out and grabbed a towel.

"Petey -- we need more hair stiffy stuff and I think we're going to have to change our feathers, we
clash. Ick. Is it my turn to make breakfast?"

Peter's eyes were laughing. "Yes."

"Damn. Do you wanna..."

"N...n...no."

Bowie chuckled and then turned to pop Paul in the butt. "When I ask your brother a question, I
expect to hear an answer from him, not you."

"Hey! My answers are better!" Paul scooted across the floor. "It's not like I'm lying."

"Do you have to work today?" he asked Paul.

"Nope. Today and tomorrow are our days off. Shop's closed. Yay!" Paul gave him a grin.

"How about you?"

"No, I have to work. Yesterday was my first day, remember? I will arrange my schedule from here on
in so that I have the third and fourth days of each cycle off as well. But that wasn't why I was asking.
I wanted to know whether or not you had to deal with customers, as you do not, then I may do as I
wish in response to your cheekiness."

"Cheeky? I wasn't cheeky. I was..." Paul gave him a wicked look. "Honest. Yeah. Honest."

Peter was watching closely, eyes sliding between them both.

He chuckled. Paul was a brat. A very fun and sexy brat, but a brat nonetheless. He did enjoy taming
brats. He was somewhat of an expert at it, actually.

He laid a towel down on the bench near the shower and sat on it. "Come here, please, Paul."

Paul's eyes went wide. "I'm all clean. I have to make breakfast. It's my turn."

"I have something for you before you do." He kept his face impassive, one eyebrow rising as he
waited.

"What?" Paul took a step forward. "I wasn't trying to piss you off."

"You were however being cheeky. I'd like you to lie on your stomach across my legs, please. This
won't take long."

Both brothers stared at him, but neither safeworded, although Peter looked completely stunned.
Paul's cock filled slowly, and Paul's skin flushed, those eyes fastened onto his.

"Now, please. I have to work and I'd like breakfast before I go." He kept his own cock from filling
with supreme effort of will.

"I...I...I'll make b...b...b...b..." Peter blinked and shook his head. "I'll do it."

"No. Paul can make it. This won't take long."

"You'll upset him. He's never seen me do anything like this." Paul draped over his legs, cock hot on
his thigh.

He held out his hand to Peter. "Come sit next to me. We can talk once Paul is off making us
breakfast."

Peter's hand slid into his, even as Paul snorted. "He's not a talker, Bowie. Honest."

He rolled his eyes and gave Peter a soft kiss as he brought the twin down to sit next to him. "I don't
want to hear a sound out of you until you can't hold your cry in anymore – I don't want to push you
to safewording, but I am going to wallop your ass until you can't sit without wincing, do you
understand?"

Paul nodded, settling more firmly on his thighs, almost teasing him with that pretty ass.

He squeezed Peter's hand gently, leaned in to whisper into one purple ear. "He loves this, Peter. His
cock is so hard, so hot."

Then he raised his hand. "No coming," he warned and let his hand land hard on Paul's ass.

Paul gasped, ass almost pushing towards the blow, the flesh going a sweet, deep rose in the shape of
his hand. Lovely. And Paul would feel it all day. Would remember his words every time the twin's
pants brushed across the sensitized flesh.

He continued to spank Paul, alternating where the blows landed for better coverage, speaking as
they landed.

"When I ask Peter a question I do not want to hear an answer from you. You are not to answer for
him. He has a voice and a mind of his own. When I ask him a question, I expect him to answer me. I
will not tolerate you answering for him."

Paul nodded, hips rubbing against his thigh, short, sharp little cries sounding.

His hand stung by the time he stopped, Paul's ass and the top of his thighs a lovely, dark red.

"What happens when I ask Peter a question, Paul?"

"P...p...peter answers it."

"Mmm... yes, exactly." He rubbed Paul's ass, making the man hiss. "I'd like you to wear a kilt today.
One made of wool." Yes, that would do nicely. It would slide against Paul's skin at odd intervals, be
scratchy when he sat on it. "No underwear. No cream for your ass unless it's getting infected --
which it shouldn't as I haven't broken the skin. And every time it twinges I want you to remember
that when I ask Peter a question, Peter, not you, answers it."

He helped Paul to his feet and took a kiss. "You can go make our breakfast now."

Paul stroked his cheek, nuzzling him gently. "Yes, sir."

Peter just sat, still and silent, watching.

"Very good." He turned his face and kissed Paul's palm. "You've made me very happy."

Paul purred, fingers stroking him once more, before disappearing, crimson ass swaying.

He watched until Paul was gone and then turned to Peter, stroking the purple cheek gently with his
burning hand. "Are you all right, Peter?"

Peter nodded, then swallowed hard. "I'm s...s...sorry."

"Why are you apologizing? Paul was the one who was being a jerk."

"I take for...forever. Pauly knows that. It's b...b...boring."

He took Peter's face in his hands, stroking. "Paul's just impatient. I want to hear your needs and
wants from you, Peter. I don't mind waiting. I don't care if you have to think to find the words or if
you stutter over them."

Peter blushed dark, eyes closing as the soft cheeks nuzzled into his hands. "P...p...pauly's n...n...not
mean."

"Oh, sweet Peter, I didn't say I thought he was mean. He's impatient. And he knows you very well.
And he's... selfish and not a little mouthy." They weren't necessarily bad qualities, but with a third
party, it would be very easy for Peter's needs to become lost.

Well, he thought perhaps Peter's needs were often subsumed even without the third party.

But Paul wasn't mean. He didn't believe that.

Peter chuckled softly, those expressive eyes dancing. "M...maybe a little mouthy."

Bowie laughed. "Just a little."

Leaning in he kissed Peter, tongue sliding in. Peter smiled, relaxing against him, the kiss sweet and
long and easy, warm.

He purred softly, hands stroking Peter's cheeks, his hair. "Do you need anything before we eat and I
have to go, Peter?"

"O...one more kiss?"

"Anything," he murmured, bringing their mouths together again.

Peter licked and nibbled and kissed, taking a long, close cuddle before leaning back.

"Good."

"Very good indeed."

He smiled. So different these two, such different needs. Now that Peter and Paul knew that he
would listen to them both he hoped that he could find balance for them and with them, so that they
all got what they needed and what they wanted.

He had a feeling it would be a constant challenge.

He was a very lucky man.

***

Bowie ate and left and then they were alone, together, Paul all red-assed and quiet and him
feeling....

Confused.

Horny.

Itchy.

Unsettled.

"P...P...Pauly?"

His twin looked over, face and motions surprisingly relaxed. "It's okay, Peter. It...it's good. I didn't
safeword."

He nodded. "I know. W...what now?"

Paul shrugged. "What now? Honest? We fuck around, we play. Maybe he'll stay, probably he won't."
His twin moved across the floor, hands sliding through his hair. "If he stays, I don't know. He's
different. If he doesn't, you've got me and I've got you and life is fine, yeah?"

He nodded, pushing into Paul's hands. They'd spent years apart and finally found each other; they
weren't separating again. Paul could hear him, knew what he needed, had known from the moment
they ran together.

"Now?"

Paul grinned. "Now you get some ice and cool off my ass and then we'll play with dyes and then, if
we have time, we'll be nice and talk to Kestrel about giving Bowie the room next door."

"B...b...but...." Bowie'd said no....

"Bowie said no cream. No cream in ice." Paul grinned. "And, can you imagine? Bowie next door? We
can send the lizards through the vents, play music, he'd be close."

He chuckled, relaxing, meeting Paul's grin. "I l...like him."

Paul nodded. "Me, too. He likes us, too."

"Thinks you're a b...brat."

Paul snorted. "Thinks you're a doormat."

He stuck out his tongue. "Am not."

"Are, too." Paul giggled. "Doormat. I should tattoo that on your ass."

He shook his head. "No way."

"Gonna shave you again, though. Dye your hair black and bleach your skin. Maybe we'll pierce your
other nipple. Then I'll go white hair and black skin. Oooh, do we have white contacts, still?"

He nodded, pointing to the stack of contact boxes.

Paul bounced. "Cool. Get the ice. Man's got amazing hands."

***

By the time they were finished with redecorating themselves and finding a kilt and having a bit of a
water fight in the hallway and contacting Kestrel about the rooms it was dark, past latemeal and
Peter?

Looked fucking scary.

"Let me put the black lenses in your eyes."

Peter shook his head.

"Please?"

Peter shook his head.

"Come on!"

Peter shook his head.

Paul stood up, slamming his hand on the counter. "Don't be a bitch."

"'m not."

"Are too!"

"Not!"

"Bitch."

"Not!"

Man, Peter could scream.

There was a loud knock on the door. Like a shot. A single knock.

"See? Now it's too late. Kestrel got a complaint about your mouth again" He stormed over to the
door, opening it. "I'm going to have him muzzled, Kes, I promise.”

Bowie stood there, one eyebrow raised. "Perhaps I shall have you both muzzled."

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuckity fuck fuck.

"We were having a discussion. How was your day at work? Massage much? Hungry?

Peter's turn to do that. Watch for the water in the hall, it's not dry yet, but the bathroom's clean, so
cool, huh?" Better to baffle them with loads of information than to stand there silent.

Bowie came in and closed the door quietly behind him. "I see you've redecorated."

He nodded, twirling. "We're polar opposites."

Or they would be, if Peter would just play along.

Asshole.

Bowie smacked his ass as he twirled.

"Ow!" He turned, frowned. "What was that for?"

"What did you put on it?"

"Black dye."

Fuck. Dye wasn't creamy, was it?

"Is that all, Paul? You barely noticed my swat."

"What do you mean? I said ow." He rubbed his ass, jonesing on the sting.

"Just answer the question, Paul. Or should I ask, Peter?"

Peter and his scary-assed self was heading for the kitchen, hiding under the blue-black hair.

"I didn't put any cream on it. None. I promise."

"Paul...." There was a warning in that tone, pure steel.

"I'm going to get you, you deserter!" He stuck his tongue out at Peter, then turned back to Bowie.
"Peter put ice on it. It was red."

"I told you not to put anything on it."

"You said no cream, no underwear. I did what you said."

He had obeyed the letter of the law. He had.

"I'm disappointed in you." Bowie walked past him, into the kitchen. "Good evening, Peter. You look
like death."

"He looks stupid because he won't wear the contacts." Paul slammed through their rooms and into
the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him and throwing whatever he could find across the
room.

"Bad enough that you won't play, but you argue and make my idea look stupid! And you wonder
why I won't ink you! Because you won't play. You argue. You look dumb. You let me get into trouble.
And then you yell and make Bowie mad and he's mad at me!"

Oh, it felt good to just lose it.

The door opened. "Are you done yet?"

Stunned at the calm question, he took a deep breath, brushed the tears off his cheeks.

"Yeah." For now.

"Come on, Peter's made supper." Bowie turned to go and stopped for a moment, looking back at
him. "I'm not mad at you, Paul -- I'm disappointed. And it isn't Peter's fault. It's your own."

He took a deep breath, started to argue but the smell of something good hit his nose and he
followed Bowie out to the eating area. Peter stayed completely silent, staring at the plates and
putting them on the table without a single sound.

Bowie sat, silent and calm, waiting until they were all at the table, ready to eat. "Is this how you
spend all your spare time? Arguing and fucking and shouting?"

Peter didn't say a word, just stared at the empty plate, looking pale and scary. "No. We decorate. We
swim. We sleep." So there. They did stuff.

"Whatever you want to do, Paul? And if Peter doesn't want to do it, there's an argument, hmm?"
Bowie shook his head. "I have become very...attached to the two of you in an unbelievably short
time. I am worried I will regret it."

Paul saw Peter swallow, saw the pale hands shake. "S...s...s....s...sorry."

Oh, fuck. Poor Pete. He wasn't good at these games. "You need some juice, Petey? Something light?"

Bowie sighed. "You alone should not have to apologize, Peter. In fact, I was expecting the lion's share
of the apology to come from your brother. He prefers deflection."

Bowie reached out, caressed both their faces, fingers soft. "I have not yet even seen my rooms and
feel the need to correct this now. I wish you both goodnight."

Paul blinked over. "Red light. You don't know him. You don't know me. He's going to be sick, things
got out of hand. I'll give you my apologies, but only after he's calmed down."

This was all going too far, too fast, with all sorts of lines blurring.

One tear slid down Peter's cheek.

"There's no need to safeword, Paul -- I'm not playing a game -- I can see how upset he is. Why do
you think I'm going?" Bowie was pale himself, looking more agitated than they'd yet seen.

"Fine. Go away. Leave us alone. I love him. I'll take care of him. We're nothing to you. Come on,
Petey. Shower, huh? Shower and juice and then bed and tomorrow we'll go out and put things back

to normal. Go buy some stuff for the shop and some skin in a bottle, 'cause man, we bleached you
too much. No wonder we're yelling and cranky -- we probably poisoned ourselves with everything,
yeah? Trying to be pretty?" He helped

Peter stand, wrapping around his twin and holding tight, and if he was weeping, well fine.

Bowie closed his eyes. "Paul. If you were nothing to me, I wouldn't have come home with you in the
first place. I wouldn't have played with you this morning, this first morning." The green eyes opened
suddenly, Bowie's head coming back up, looking straight at him. "Ask me to stay and I will. And we
will sleep together and in the morning, before anyone comes, before anyone starts to play or argue
or tease, we will talk. About more than just safewords."

"S...s...s...stay."

Paul blinked at Peter, then nodded into the dark eyes. "I'm sorry. Please, stay."

Peter relaxed into his arms, nodding. "P...p...p...please."

Bowie nodded and something in the man seemed to ease. "Thank you, I will."

Standing, Bowie came to them and wrapped those muscled arms around them both. They both
relaxed, Peter sobbing softly, his hand sliding around Bowie's waist.

"Sh, sh." Bowie stroked Peter's skin, gave his brother a soft kiss. "We'll figure it out, Peter. You'll see
-- it'll all work out."

Peter nodded. "I...I...I don't w...w...want to l...l...look s...s...scary tomorrow."

He swallowed his chuckle hard, nodded. "'kay, Petey. I promise."

"I would very much like to see you as yourselves tomorrow. Come now. Let's eat and shower and
sleep -- no more drama, no more orders, no more tears. Just quiet and together." Bowie gave him
and Peter an outrageous wink. "You can go back to being a brat tomorrow, Paul."

"Oh, good. I couldn't go too many hours." He leaned in and kissed Peter's cheek. "I'll get the juice for
us all."

Chapter Three

Bowie woke before either Peter or Paul. He considered leaving the bed to find a quiet corner in the
suite to meditate in, but decided that if they woke before he came back, they might assume the
worst.

Instead, he sat at the bottom of the bed, closed his eyes to the riotous colors and found a calm place
inside himself. It had been a long time since he had made such a misstep as he had made in the last
two days. But then, he’d been drawn to the twins from the moment he'd seen them.

No, that wasn't true.

He'd been drawn to the twins from the moment he'd heard them. However, he'd stepped in too
quickly, made assumptions and tried to bring a balance to them before learning the precarious
balance they already had with each other.

That they needed him was undeniable to him. He felt them tugging inexorably at him. He did belong
here, as a part of them, as their anchor. But thrown in between them willy-nilly and he would only
drag them into the sea and drown them.

They both needed to be nurtured. Peter especially needed to be encouraged to step from behind his
brother's shadow. Paul needed to believe that he would be seen even if he were not loud and
boisterous and selfish.

They were beauty and passion and love and anger and they needed not only to be molded, but to
have a foil. He needed to trust them to recognize that he was the man for both those jobs. And he
needed to trust his own heart to care for itself.

It told him to sink into these two, to let his usual barriers down. This would not work if he was not
willing to take that step boldly.

He would need to listen. To be fair, but firm. Paul would manipulate him at every opportunity, would
use Peter against him. He would have to be aware of this always.

There could not be any half measures. Once they had decided on a course, they had to follow it. Last
night, backing off had proved almost disastrous. He would not make that mistake again.

Being a Dom was a very serious job. Oh, it was fun and pleasurable as well, but it was a great
responsibility. And when your heart was involved the stakes were as high as they could get.

He felt better. A night's sleep, sorting everything out. He would need to make sure they had a
mechanism for a time out for all of them whenever needed -- given Paul's brattiness, he had a
feeling they would need it a lot.

He thought he could hear the twins waking, so he took a few deep breaths and opened his eyes.

He was going to have to do something about the walls.

***

His head hurt when he woke up -- not pounding or anything, just hurting.

Peter turned and curled into Paul, nuzzling, trying to encourage that hand to stroke right....

Oh, there.

There.

Thank you, Pauly.

He'd slept hard, deep, had a bunch of dreams that didn't make any sense.

Paul's hand kept petting. "Y'okay?"

He nodded. Yeah, yeah. He thought so.

"Good morning." Bowie's voice was quiet and soothing and one solid, warm hand joined Paul's on
his head. "If you remember, I am the massage master. Where does it hurt?"

"His hea...." Paul stopped and Peter could feel the heat rise on the smooth skin. "Sorry."

Peter reached up and brought Bowie's fingers to the places it hurt.

Bowie murmured softly and began to massage. The man's fingers were large, warm and heavy
against his skin, and yet incredibly gently as they smoothed away the hurt.

"Oh...." He just sort of melted, moaning low as he lay against Paul.

"He likes that. He likes that, Bowie." Paul's voice was warm, happy, not teasing a bit.

"It's what I do," Bowie replied. There was a smile in the deep voice.

"Morning." He got squished a little as Paul leaned in for a kiss, but it was a nice sort of squishing.

The kiss was soft and wet in his ear and then Bowie leaned down and kissed him, too.

His own kiss was sloppy, lazy, but he felt relaxed and good, all melty. He figured he'd better enjoy it.
Paul would be ready to get up soon and it was his turn to find breakfast.

Bowie didn't press anything more on him and eventually the lovely massage ended. "We need to
talk, my pretty Pets. While we are rested and feeling at peace."

He nodded, as did Paul, both of them relaxed together. Quiet. It was nice.

"We can sit here on the bed, or maybe the dining room table would be better. Less room for us to
get...distracted."

"Can we have breakfast, too?" Paul's hand stroked his side. "There's pastries and juice from
yesterday."

"That sounds like a good idea, as none of us had much to eat. Is there a light robe I can borrow? I
assume you both have something to cover up with -- you're very distracting as you are."

He blushed. "L...l...look d...dead." Then he slid out of the bed and dug until he found

three robes -- red, green and blue.

"You don't look dead. Just sort of...terrifying. I'll fix it. I promise," Paul said.

Peter tugged on the red robe and handed the green one to Bowie.

"We'll talk about it later. There are other more pressing matters to discuss first," Bowie said, hand
lingering on his as the green robe was accepted.

Bowie led them to the dining room and allowed him to bring out the sweet rolls and juice before
insisting they all sit.

"We need to start on a new foot. We rushed in without discussing anything, and while I do not
believe that was wrong, I think we should have stopped along the way to discuss more than just
safewords, mm?"

"It went from fun to serious really fast, didn't it?" Paul poured them all juice. "I mean, we've been
here a while and someone like you hasn't even happened before."

"I don't know that there is someone else like me." Bowie grinned suddenly. "And I don't mean that
quite as egotistically as it sounds. The two of you are very different, despite being twins. It takes
someone of my temperament, I believe, to recognize that there are different needs beneath the
arguing and the armor you use against the world. And, having

recognized it, there are not many who would want to deal with you both. Who would be capable of
it. I believe that I can give you both what you need without short-changing any of us."

"B...b...but wh...wh...what...." He sighed, looking up to Paul, who nodded and winked.

"Yeah. What do you need?"

"Trust. I expect you to safeword when you need to. I expect you to give me as much as you give each
other and yourselves. You're going to have to let me in. All the way."

"Why do you want to? We're trouble. You saw. Why do you want us?" Paul always knew what to say,
what they wanted to know.

"Because from the moment I heard you arguing while standing in the hallway I was driven to
respond. You work well together -- you have found an impossible balance where there should be
none. The three of us though...when we get it right? We'll be...like nothing anyone has ever seen
before. An interconnected, healthy triangle of give and take, need and want."

Bowie looked them each in the eye. "I do not want to be alone all my life, but I won't accept
anything less than...the two of you."

He shivered and Paul tugged him close, settling him in warm arms, before nodding.

"We'll try. You.... We've never met anyone like you. Not since we've been together."

Peter closed his eyes for a second, resting.

"Yes. It won't be easy and I'm going to want to lay down some ground rules, starting now, that may
be hard for you to accept." Bowie's voice lowered, softened. "You must believe, though, that I
already care for both of you a great deal. Both of you. And I will not deliberately hurt either of you
emotionally."

Oh. Oh, the tone of Bowie's voice echoed inside him, resonated. He felt Paul shiver before the
reaction was hidden in a nod. "What rules? Can we discuss them? Talk about them?"

"Of course we can talk about them, that is why we're meeting now before we go any further. I have
to warn you though -- I will need extremely compelling reasons to change any of the rules I wish to
set down, but I will be fair and I will be willing to entertain rules that you wish to bring in."

He shifted, turning his head so he could see Bowie, giving the man a smile and a nod.

"Okay. Okay, that's fair." Paul stroked his hair. "Our biggest rule is about meals. We take turns.
Otherwise I'd never get meat and Petey'd never get his juice."

"I will make the menus and order the food. The two of you may continue to take turns cooking."
Bowie took a drink of his juice and then looked at them again. "You are both very different and you
both need different things from me. The most important rule is that you will not interfere. You will
safeword for yourself but never for each other. I will accept it if one of you is incapacitated, but only
then. Paul, you may think you know when Peter needs to stop, but he is stronger than you realize.
And Peter doesn't understand the strong arm that you need at times. You are both perfectly capable
of safewording when you need to and I will not tolerate you interfering with each other, even when
done out of love and caring."

Bowie's eyes moved from his to Paul's and back again. "Is that understood and acceptable?"

He nodded, but Paul tilted his head. "I'll do my best. I've been taking care of him since I found him.
It's hard to let you take control."

"I know. And I will take that into consideration if you break this rule. That doesn't mean you won't be
punished." Bowie gave Paul a wry look. "My hands are going to be sore --spanking is my preferred
method of punishment. I prefer to leave whips and paddles and such for pleasure."

Paul blushed. "You think your hands are going to be sore? My poor ass...."

That made Peter giggle, tickled deep down.

Bowie chuckled, the sound rich and warm. "All you have to do is behave, Paul."

Bowie cleared his throat and grew serious again. "I want the two of you to assume you may do or
say anything you like unless you have been told otherwise. I think we need to assume that we are
living the life full time, so anytime I ask or tell you to do something, it will be as your Dom. However,
you do not need my permission for things like a slave would. Do you both understand?"

He met Paul's eyes, looking for answers, for assurance, and Paul nodded, petting his head. "We have
to try to trust him, Petey. He's being honest with us."

"’k...k...k...kay."

"I expect you to call a yellow light if you need to discuss an order with me, revisit our rules, or clarify
a situation. I expect a red light if you need things to come to a complete stop. By way of an example
you should have yellow lighted rather than red lighted last night, Paul -- except that it was for Peter
and if he couldn't handle it, he should have yellow lighted."

Bowie gave them a stern look and his eyes settled on Peter. "You must safeword if you need to. I will
never punish you for safewording for yourself. Ever. Not safewording when you need to? That could
make me leave."

"I...I...I...." He shook his head, swallowing hard, then looked up at Paul, begging him to hear, to
understand. The stuttering was so bad when he was scared and stressed and worried.

"Stop." Bowie's voice was soft, a big hand coming to take his. "Breathe, Peter. Relax. Take your time.
I don't care how long you need to find your thoughts. If we need to, we can continue this discussion
when I return from work this evening."

Oh.

Oh.

He held on tight to Bowie's hand, breath slowing, easing.

"I...I c...can't t...t...talk so well wh...wh...when I'm upset."

"So safewording might be a problem for you? Not because you don't want to but because you can't
get the words out?" He nodded, relief sharp enough to make his eyes fill with tears. Bowie's fingers
gently brushed the tears from the corners of his eyes. "That is a very valid concern. We shall have to
compensate for it then. Would a gesture for yellow light and another for red light be easier for you
to manage?"

He pushed into Bowie's fingers, nodding. Oh. Oh, Bowie listened.

Heard.

Oh.

Paul's hand was strong and sure on his back.

"Very well. How about a cutting gesture with the flat of your hand like so," Bowie demonstrated,
"for red light and a 't' gesture like so, for yellow light? And we can adapt as needed. Say you were
bound, I would give you something to hold and you would drop it to call a halt to the proceedings."

He nodded, relaxing completely, and gave Bowie a tremulous smile. "Th...th...thank you."

"It is my pleasure, Peter. In order for this to work, we must all be comfortable and happy. Now you
are sure that you will be able to do the hand gestures even if you are too upset to talk?"

He nodded again, smile easier this time. His voice was broken, not his body.

"Wonderful. Then you both may safeword either verbally, or with the hand gestures. That will make
things easier when we gag Paul." Bowie winked at him.

He laughed softly, peeping when Paul goosed him.

"Is that all the rules? Oh, and on the menu thing? We're not great at cooking. I order roast from
downstairs, Peter orders fruit salad."

"That's all you eat? All this fuss about whose turn it is to cook and you order the food in?" Bowie
began to laugh, the green eyes twinkling. "Oh, you are a pair!"

Peter shook his head. "I...I...I c...c...can make noodles. I m...m...make good noodles."

Paul wrinkled his nose. "They're not good, Petey. They're...noodly."

He chuckled. Paul was so picky.

"I will draw up a menu at the beginning of each week and you will take turns ordering the meals on
it. And there is one more thing. I would like to live here. I will ask -- I believe it's Kestrel -- for a room
either beside or across from here for us to use as a time out room. And I will redecorate and
organize this place. The time out room will be plain, merely for meditation and rejuvenation as
needed or prescribed. We can make this work without my living here, but it will make things more
complicated and they are already quite complicated enough."

He blushed dark and hid his face in Paul's chest and Paul cleared his throat. "Uh. We. Well,
yesterday, we sort of called Kes and you have the rooms next door. Sort of. You'll get a note today."

"Oh, presumptuous! That was your doing, Paul." Bowie tsked, but didn't seem to be very upset.
"That doesn't answer the question of whether I may live here with you though."

He looked over. "You...you don't l...l...like our h...h...house."

It wasn't a question, really. He could tell -- the wrinkled nose and rolling eyes gave it away.

Paul nodded. "We want you here, but this...." Paul gestured to the rooms. "This is how we are. We're
not...calm?"

"Which is why I would maintain the time-out room -- though sometimes I will send one of you there,
mostly it will be for me to retreat to. If I stay here, and I do want to stay, I would help you re-
organize. Besides, picking up messes is an excellent punishment and also saves my hand wear and
tear."

They laughed together and Peter reached out to drink some juice. He liked Bowie's answers, Bowie's
questions. He loved that Bowie heard him.

"D...d...do you want your own b...b...bed here?"

"Yeah, we only have one bed. The other rooms are sort of...."

He nudged Paul. Scary. They were scary. And filled with...stuff. And scary. Bowie didn't need to see
those.

Paul nodded to him. "Without beds."

"No, if I stay here, I want to stay with the two of you. That is the point of all this, after all." Bowie's
voice had taken on that low, soft tone again. It was intimate and sexy.

He and Paul nodded together. The three of them slept well together, all piled up and warm and
close.

"Wonderful -- that's settled, then, and I'll have my stuff sent here. Do either or you have any
questions or concerns? Or rules of your own you'd like to see implemented?"

Paul tilted his head. "We decorate each other, a lot, which can get messy and well, scary. And...can I
have a guarantee of my morning shower with Peter?"

Peter grinned. Shower. Right. Paul wanted morning orgasms. Still, showers were nice and Paul was
so sweet in the mornings....

"I don't mind the decorating, though sometimes I will ask for something specific or for you to change
something. As for the showers...." Bowie's eyes narrowed as he looked at Paul. "Morning showers
yes, morning blow jobs -- no, no guarantee on those."

"Damn." Paul grinned over, mischief written all over his twin's face. "It was worth a try."

Bowie chuckled. "That cheekiness will try us both, Paul."

Bowie stood. "Now. How about we all shower together, complete with blowjobs and then the two of
you can do something about the scariness. I would very much like to see you as you are naturally --
but I am not making it an order."

"F...f...for you."

Paul nodded. "But we won't leave the rooms that way."

Peter nodded. They weren't ready.

"That is acceptable. You can work on it while I'm working and then recolor or whatever tomorrow
morning."

Bowie held out his hands to them. "Come with me, my pretty Pets. I want to love you before I leave
you for the day."

They stood, pushing into those warm arms, cuddling in for kisses.

This was the easy part.

Chapter Four

They were ugly.

Oh, gods and fishes, they were so plain.

They'd gotten the skin tone right pretty quickly -- the palest gold, matched from his tattoos -- but the
hair had taken all damned day to find the dark brown with a touch of cherry-red deep inside.

Paul'd cut a good five inches off Peter's hair and shortened his own to shoulder-length --maybe he'd
shave it off tomorrow. They didn't have on any color, any makeup, anything pretty.

Well, except for Peter's nipple rings. They'd pierced the other one while waiting for something or
other earlier.

Peter was curled up on the settee, flipping through the vidfeed, wrapped in a white gauzy gowny
thing. He was in his robe, ordering roast, waiting for Bowie.

Waiting for Bowie to come home and see them.

The door opened softly, Bowie letting himself in. "Oh. Oh, my beautiful boys. Look at you."

Peter ducked his head, blushing, and he sighed, shook his head. "We're ugly ducklings, Bowie. No
decoration at all."

"Oh, the decoration is pretty, but your skin is fantastic and your hair color...thank you for sharing
yourselves with me, my pretty Pets." Bowie just beamed at them.

Peter chuckled -- really chuckled and wasn't it a sexy sound -- and stood, heading to welcome Bowie.
It looked like he floated over the floor, hair and gown swirling.

Bowie opened his arms to Peter, purring and taking a kiss. "Don't I get a kiss from you, too, Paul?"

He nodded and headed over, offering Bowie a long kiss that was so sweet, so warm he forgot about
being ugly, forgot about breathing, just felt.

Bowie held them in his arms and smiled at them. "I find you perfectly lovely as you are. Both of you.
Now what shall we do tonight, hmm?"

"I ordered roast." He twined his fingers with Peter's. "And a chocolate cake."

Peter grinned. "I...i...ice cream?"

"Yeah."

Peter reached up and stroked Bowie's hair. "G...g...g...g..."

"Did you have a good day at work? Getting used to it?" Paul asked.

"Yes, I did, but it was long -- I wanted to be here with you. What were you going to say, Peter?"

Paul took a deep breath, biting back his sigh. He knew what Peter wanted to know, damn it.

"G...g...good for y...y...you? You l...l...like it?"

"You changed on purpose,” he accused.

Peter frowned at him, head shaking.

Bowie, slid a hand gently over his cheek, one finger across his lips. "You have to be more patient,
Paul. I know it's hard for you, but Peter deserves to be heard." Then Bowie turned to Peter and
smiled. "I can take or leave roast, but cake and ice cream are not to be turned down."

Peter grinned wide, nodding before leaning up to kiss him, asking forgiveness, which Paul gave
easily, tongue sliding into Peter's mouth.

"Will it be here soon? Or do I have time to watch you suck Peter off?"

Peter's eyes went wide, a soft moan vibrating between them. Usually, when Paul gave Peter a
blowjob it was to drive him crazy, bring him higher and higher and not let him come. It just wasn't
something they did regularly, so Paul explained that to Bowie.

"I didn't ask if it was something you usually did, I asked if we had time for you to do it. I've seen him
suck you off, now I want to see you suck him off."

"We have time." He gave Bowie a frown. Hells, he was just trying to share something with the man,
not weasel out of it. He wasn't a complete fucking bastard. He loved Peter.

Bowie's fingers slid across his forehead, smoothing his frown away. "Relax, Paul. You might just
enjoy it, hmm?"

"I do enjoy it. You don't understand. I was just telling you about us. Just telling you."

He started to tighten up, then Peter nuzzled his jaw. "Sh...sh...sharing,

B...b...b...b...bowie."

He smiled into Peter's eyes and nodded. "Yeah. Where do you want us?"

Bowie gave him a light kiss. "I'm sorry if I assigned false motives to you, Paul. I will sit over here on
this...cushion? The two of you can use the couch."

He nodded and led Peter across the room, tickling and teasing and groping as they went, making
Peter squeak and giggle. They landed on the couch in a tangle, Peter's eyes dancing, lips clinging to
his.

Bowie settled on the cushions, eyes on them both, like a caress. "You should both be naked. So
pretty."

"Off with your dress, Petey. You can waggle your butt at Bowie." He winked, shrugging off his robe.

"B...bitch." Peter started unbuttoning, grinning wide.

"Slut."

"Uh-uh."

He giggled and pounced as soon as Peter was naked, kissing hard. "Are too."

Bowie's chuckles were warm, reminding them he was there, watching them.

Paul licked down Peter's body, lingering at the places he knew made Peter twist, made his twin arch,
his hand working that stiff cock with firm strokes as he worked his way down.

He was careful to avoid the newly pierced nipple, only breathing over it, making Peter cry out, tangle
fingers in his hair.

There was a soft gasp from Bowie. "Oh. How sensitive is it?"

"He can come from playing with them." He breathed out again, drawing out another cry, another
tightening of those fingers. "The best part will be tomorrow, when he's working and I can make him
crazy."

"If I let you," Bowie murmured, giving him a wicked smile.

He stuck his tongue out, hiding the motion by licking Peter's nipple, then scooting down to touch his
tongue stud to the barbell in Peter's cock.

"A matched set," murmured Bowie. "Exquisite."

Peter was leaking, close already; his hands had driven the heat up and up. He took Peter's shaft in
deep, fingers moving to push into Peter's body, spreading the tight hole as he swallowed. It didn't
take much before Peter arched, filled his mouth with seed, squeezed his fingers tight. So pretty, so
hot, his sweet lover.

Paul pushed up, taking Peter's mouth, cock desperate to push inside that tight heat.

There was a soft cry from Bowie, the scent of Bowie's come unfamiliar but strong in the room.

"Beautiful, thank you," murmured Bowie. "Come here, Paul -- I want to taste him in your mouth."

He whimpered softly, but pushed away from Peter and stumbled over into Bowie's arms, lips open.

Bowie kissed him deeply, tongue sweeping into his mouth. He could feel Bowie's hands at his cock
and when the kiss ended he found his erection bound in leather, balls tucked up tight against his
cock.

He whimpered softly, hips still moving towards Bowie's touch. "No fair. I did what you asked..."

"Yes and after we have eaten you will be rewarded for your patience, Paul." He was given another
kiss just as a soft knock came at the door.

Peter stood and stretched, padding over to the door. "L...l...l...leave it."

He moaned, snuggling close. After they ate? Oh, he hoped no one was hungry.

Bowie gave him a soft smile, stroking his back and his cock. "Come on, Paul, I'm starving."

Peter had headed back over to the sofa, sliding his clothes back on, hair mussed and cheeks flushed.

"Your twin is absolutely beautiful. Look at him glow."

He smiled, tilting his head. Seeing Peter look plain reminded him of those hard, scary first days
before they made themselves plumage. "He'd be prettier with blue hair."

Bowie chuckled and goosed him.

"Ow!" He wiggled and grinned, then tackled Peter, knocking his twin to the floor, kissing hard. "Look
what he did to me, Petey? My poor cock. It'll turn purple and fall off!"

"Think of how pretty it will be while it's purple before it falls off," Bowie called.

Peter laughed, pushing him off onto the floor before moving down to inspect his cock thoroughly. "'s
f...f...fine. N...n...no purple."

"Come on boys, the sooner we eat the sooner Paul can stop worrying about his poor prick."

Oh, oh, heavens. Bowie could stay if all he ever did was make Peter laugh like that. Peter helped him
up and into his robe, then went to go set the table, humming. Bowie picked up the food from the
hall and brought it to the table, the three of them working companionably together.

"Wh...wh...wh..." Peter was standing by the cooler, juice in hand.

"What do you want to drink, Bowie?" He nodded as Peter smiled.

Bowie raised an eyebrow at him, but didn't say anything about him asking for Peter. "The juice will
be fine. So this is your roast, is it?"

"It is. I love it. My family when I was growing up? We had it all the time." He took two of the glasses
from Peter. "Milk for me, please."

Peter nodded, leaning in to search.

Bowie nodded, watching Peter's ass. "You aren't the only one with a hard cock, Paul."

He arched an eyebrow, completely confused. "Huh?"

Bowie chuckled and gave him a quick kiss. "You and your brother turn me on, Paul. You make me
want like I've never wanted before."

"Oh!" He grinned, cuddling in close, almost spilling his juice.

"Mmm." Bowie petted him and then settled him in a chair. Peter was also treated to a kiss and
seated at the table and Bowie dished up for them.

Peter blinked at the amount of meat Bowie gave him, just like he blinked at the potatoes and carrots
and greens. They looked at each other and quickly rearranged, leaving him with all but one bite of
meat and Peter with all the greens and carrots.

"Paul. The vegetables are good for you." Implacably, Bowie put several greens and carrots on his
plate and gave Peter another bite of meat.

"Vegetables are nasty, though. Especially green ones."

Peter rolled his eyes, picking around the meat and eating the nasties. God, just because the man
hadn't grown up with meat, didn't mean he had to be so...smug.

"Do you take nutrient shots, Paul? If you don't, you'll have to eat more of them." Bowie gave him a
grin, the man eating meat and vegetables and potatoes with gusto.

"Shots?"

He blinked. Oh. Oh, no. No shots. Not for...

Peter was laughing, he could tell.

"If you don't eat a balanced, nutritious diet, you need to supplement. Surely you know that? The
easiest way is through nutrition shots. One a month. Although from what I understand they're
developing a longer-acting one."

"Once a month's not bad..." He tilted his head. "One shot and I never ever have to eat the nasty food
for a month?"

"One shot and you only have to have a bite every time it's served."

Oh, that was no fair. "Damn. Still, one bite..."

"The shot and one bite or there will be vegetables on your plate two meals a day."

"Okay. Okay." He wrinkled his nose, nudging Peter's arm. "See? I'm getting out of the nasty
greenies."

Peter shrugged and stole another bite of greens, leaving most of the meat still on his plate.

"And you, Peter will need to eat more meat than that two meals a day or you will also have to take
shots. Although it won't always be roast -- there are numerous sources of protein."

Peter nodded. "D...d...don't care for it. B...b...b...but I'll eat s...s...some."

"Wonderful! And you might not like roast, but there's chicken and fish and lobster."

Bowie grinned. "That's my favorite."

"L...l...l..." Peter sighed and nudged him.

"What's lobster? Is it good?"

Bowie tsked, and leaned over to stroke Peter's cheek. "I don't mind waiting, remember? Lobster is a
type of fish. With a shell. Very yummy. They usually serve it with garlic butter. Mmmm."

Peter made a pleased sound and Paul tilted his head. "Can we try it? Peter likes garlicky stuff and I
like fish. There's a place down in St. Jude where you can buy the weirdest fishes all crisped up,
remember it?"

Peter nodded. They hadn't spent long in the slums, but that was one of the good parts.

"I will definitely put it on the menu. At least once a week and if you both like it we'll have it more
often."

Bowie sighed contently and pushed away his plate. "How's your cock, Paul? Fallen off yet?"

He blinked over, surprised. He'd been so busy relaxing and talking and such, he'd forgotten about
the bonds. "No. Not yet."

"Good. We'll risk the cake and ice-cream then." Bowie winked at him and gathered their plates
together.

Peter bounced up and brought the cake over, then the ice cream, putting the cake nearest to him.
Then took the dishes from Bowie. "M...m...my turn."

Bowie looked like he was going to argue, but Paul shook his head, putting one finger over his lips.
No. No, Bowie wanted to see this.

Hear this.

Whatever.

It didn't take long before the singing started -- low and soft and easy, lovely. "He doesn't know I can
hear. He sings while the water runs."

"Mm...thank you, Paul." Bowie took his hand and closed his eyes, head tilted slightly to pick up the
sounds.

It didn't go on long, but it...it made him proud. He'd saved that from being lost. He had.

Just him. He squeezed Bowie's hand as the words faded and he started cutting the cake. Bowie
dished out ice cream onto each piece of cake and soon they were eating the sweet. Bowie seemed
mellow and relaxed, watching them with those green eyes that you just knew didn't miss a thing.

His cake was gone almost immediately. Peter? Took forever, each bite having to be the perfect
amount of icing and cake and cream.

It was boring.

He stole a few bites off Peter, helping to move them along.

Bowie chuckled. "There's more cake, Paul, if you want another piece."

"No, it's okay. I'm just helping Mr. Picky with his before it's tomorrow."

"Mr. Picky? Says the man who won't eat vegetables." Bowie grinned at him, sitting back and working
slowly -- very very slowly -- on his own cake.

He'd finished Peter's cake -- well, he left Peter a bite of ice cream -- and then he started wiggling,
hyped on sugar and bored.

Soft sounds came from Bowie as he oh so slowly ate. The man was laughing at him! A look at the
green eyes confirmed they were dancing and twinkling at him.

"So? Tell us about you? Where are you from? Why are you here? Where did you learn to massage?
Were you always dommy?"

Bowie chuckled and pushed his cake toward Peter. "Was I always dommy? Why yes, I was, Paul. I'm
from Old Terra, believe it or not, and I learned to massage from my mother -- now there was
someone who was dommy. She makes me look like a roll-over pussycat sub."

"Wow." He took a minute and then nudged Peter gently. "Come on, Petey. We're all waiting on you.
I grew up in St. Therese. People talked about Old Terra a lot. Do you miss it?"

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

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

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

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

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

Peter shook his head, hands gathering up the dishes.

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

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

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

That dammed eyebrow went up again. "Meaning?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Undress me, Paul."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ah! Petey! Love! Scoot forward."

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

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

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

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

"Yes!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Mmm." Bowie pet him, pet Peter and reached for a blanket, bringing it over all of them.

"We'll rest a bit. Nice and quiet and together."

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

Chapter Five

It had been an interesting week all told.

A new job. A new home.

New partners.

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

So the new job was a dream.

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

So the new home was also a dream.

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

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

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

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

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

Excellent.

The boys should be in already -- the body-mod shop had been closed for hours. He let himself in,
deciding that he would let what he found guide his actions.

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

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

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

"L...l...l...l...l.... Go away!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Paul nodded. "In the deep freeze."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Are you hurt, Peter?"

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

Paul made a soft, worried sound.

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

"'kay."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He just looked at Paul, only answering when he realized the man was absolutely serious.

"Peter? How do you want to smell?" What had they done without him?

"H...h...h...h..."

"Honey. Cool. Be right back."

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

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

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

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

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

That made Peter giggle, one little tear escaping.

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

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

"I...i...is it w...w...w..."

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

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

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

Paul nodded. "All loose."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bowie got his own pants open and then grabbed Peter's legs, pulling them up and apart.

Peter cried out, head falling back, body taut and shuddering as Paul pushed slick fingers inside.

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

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

"Good."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Come here first."

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

Paul blinked. "What for?"

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

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

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

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

He hummed. "My pleasure, Peter."

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

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

And he was enjoying himself immensely, drama and all.

***

They were curled up together on the sofa, his head in Paul's lap, fingers on Bowie's belly.

Peter felt well-fucked and well-fed and warm and happy and never moving again.

Ever.

Paul petted his head, periodically tickling him and making him squirm.

"By the way, I like the decorations," Bowie murmured. "It suits you both much better than the black
and white."

Paul chuckled. "You like the short look? I was going for elvish, sort of."

"I like the shiny. Especially the way it accents certain body parts."

Paul spread and wiggled, jostling him and he turned his head and nipped Paul's leg. That got him a
sharp pop on his butt, Paul retaliating immediately.

Bowie growled softly. "Settle down, boys."

"Yeah, be good, Peter, or Bowie will have to beat you."

That made him giggle. So far, the beatings had been completely confined to Paul's butt.

Bowie chuckled, hand sliding down to his ass, squeezing gently. "I couldn't beat Peter, he's already
pink."

He grinned and wiggled a little as Paul chuckled. "Yes. I like him pink. He always looks freshly
fucked."

"P...p...p...paul!" Did he?

Bowie laughed outright at that, squeezing his ass again, fingers lingering along his crack.

"I would have said he looks more like an invitation to fuck."

He squeaked, thighs parting a bit. Oh, the things Bowie said.

"Mmm... he likes that."

"I noticed. Would you like me to fuck you again, Peter?" Bowie had that low, sexy tone in his voice,
the one that could melt muscles like butter.

He shivered and moaned, hips raising just a little, body wanting, begging for the touch.

"See, Petey? You are a slut."

Bowie purred. "There's nothing wrong with that."

Oh.

His hand caressed Bowie in thanks, cheek nuzzling Paul, body undulating. Oh, heavens, he felt so
sexy. So fine.

Bowie petted him, hands stroking bundles of nerves to life in his back and ass.

"Oh..." He turned his head, lips sliding along Paul's cock, wanting them all to feel as good as he did.

"Peter..." A hand tangled in his hair, Paul's cry sweet.

"Do you boys want to play or just make love?" Bowie asked them, fingers teasing his crack.

"We can make love anytime, Bowie, but tomorrow we're all off work. Together. For the first time."
Paul sounded... not whiney, but needy. Really needy.

"Then I have a few ideas I want to try out. Especially with the lovely decorations you've chosen."
Bowie patted his ass. "Meet me in my rooms in... ten minutes."

Bowie got up and headed for the door, turning back before he got to it. "No coming before you get
there."

They giggled, Peter pushing up into Paul's arms and snuggling close. "Like we'd do that..." Paul said.

"Yes, you would. Ten minutes, no coming and if you have you'll both be hog-tied for the entire two
days and not allowed to come until we have another pair of days off together."

Bowie gave them a stern look and left.

Peter rested his head on Paul's shoulder. "L...l...love you."

Paulie nodded. "Yeah. Sorry about earlier, yeah? You scared me. I thought you'd be hurt."

He nodded, snuggled closer. "Wh...wh...what do you th...th...think about him?"

"Bowie? He's something special. Something else. I don't know, Petey. If we learn to need him and he
leaves? That would so suck, but he doesn't sound like he wants to leave, does he?" A soft kiss fell on
his head. "Let's just wing it for now, yeah?"

He nodded. He wasn't sure he could just leave it, though. He thought maybe he was beyond just
leaving it.

After nine minutes where they were both incredibly good and even sort of relaxed and cuddly, Paul
helped him up and they padded over to Bowie's door and knocked.

The door opened immediately, Bowie looking very pleased with them.

The rooms were plain, austere even. All done in whites and creams and light tans. There was a
minimum of furniture and the room Bowie led them into was done entirely in white, from the walls
to the carpet on the floor to the bed and its linens.

It was quiet but for the soft sounds of a waterfall, and it took him a moment to realize it had to be
piped in.

He looked around, eyes wide. Nothing so stark should be so pretty.

"Oh, Bowie. Wow." Paul cuddled up behind him, arms wrapping around his belly.

"Plain and simple have a beauty of their own, do they not?" Bowie grinned at them. "And I thought
the white would show the two of you up quite beautifully. Your colors will just shine. On the bed
please."

Bowie picked up a bunch of white rope from the bed.

"How do you want us?" Paul crawled up first, holding those familiar arms open for him.

"Kneeling. Facing each other. You can make each other hard for me while I bind your ankles."

Paul scooted up and he crawled up next to his twin, lifting his face for a kiss. Paul gave it eagerly,
hands pushing into his hair.

"I need your cocks fully hard by the time I'm done with your ankles," Bowie warned gently, doing his
ankles first, looping the rope around them twice before tying it. It wasn't tight, but he knew it was
there, could feel it.

Paul groaned into his lips, hips rubbing against his belly and he reached down and pumped Paul's
cock. He wasn't sure why his cock had to be hard for his ankles to be tied, but Paul seemed
enthusiastic enough.

Once his ankles were tied, Bowie moved on to tie Paul's.

Their cocks were next.

Bowie took his in hand, stroking firmly to make sure he was quite hard. Then his cock was bound
with the white rope, his balls snugged up tight against his cock.

"Oh..." His eyes flew open and Paul grinned.

"Does it feel good, Petey? Tight?"

"It should be tight enough, but it shouldn't hurt. And you'll find out how it feels soon enough, Paul."
Bowie gave him a soft kiss, thumb stroking the tip of his cock and then moved to bind Paul.

He could feel his cock, so hard, so stiff in the rope. Gods, it felt good. Different, but good.

"Hands above your heads," murmured Bowie, an intent look in his eyes. "Paul you take Peter's right
hand in your left, Peter you take Paul's right in your left."

He reached up, their fingers twining, his arms stretching farther to meet the length of Paul's.

Bowie purred, the sound low. "Oh, my Pretties." The hand that slid from his wrist on down to his
waist was trembling slightly.

Paul's face looked... blissful, eyes almost glowing, a soft happy moan filling the air.

"Exquisite," said Bowie and then got to work with his rope again. This time it was looped around his
chest and tied so that his nipples were under the rope. Paul was given the same treatment.

He shivered hard, nipples squeezed between rope and ring, eyes flying up to Paul's for comfort.

"You're okay, Petey."

Bowie's hands slid along his back, rubbing his shoulders and squeezing his buttocks.

"Yes, you're doing just fine, Peter. I'm going to finish up with your arms and then take vids so the
two of you can see how amazing you look together."

He blinked and blushed, leaning to rest his forehead against Paul's jaw.

Bowie placed a kiss on his spine and then bound their arms together. Bowie wrapped the rope
around their arms so that it seemed to spiral up one side and down the other.

He squeezed Paul's fingers, the sensation of being so bound unusual, arousing, unsettling.

Paul, though, Paul was relaxed, face easy.

Bowie's hands touched him all over, sliding over his body and waking every nerve not already awake.
"There we are. Perfect."

Climbing off the bed, Bowie began to vid them, walking slowly around the bed to get them from
every angle.

He closed his eyes, leaning against Paul, listening to Paul's heartbeat, the sweet, soft noises. He felt
so close to his twin -- closer than when they made love.

"Absolutely beautiful. You'll see when I show you the vids."

Every now and then Bowie would touch them, a slide of fingers or a kiss.

Paul rubbed his temple, humming softly, slow tremors starting to rock their shoulders.

"Start kissing," murmured Bowie.

Paul nudged his face up, mouth covering his immediately, tongue sliding in, all heat and pleasure
and sweet need.

"That's it, lovelies. Let your passion out. Give each other what you need."

Paul pushed a long, low sound into his mouth, eyes so close, so big.

Oh.

Oh, Paul. Love.

He whimpered, bowing under Paul's need.

"Rub together if you need to." Bowie's voice was husky, needy.

His arms pressed backward, as Paul moved, making him gasp, push back to keep his balance.

"That's it. Show me. Show me how much you need. How much you want."

He growled softly, pushing toward Paul, his own passion sharpening as he struggled not to fall.

"Yes." Bowie's hands slid over him, tugging the rope across his nipples. He cried out, body rippling,
tongue pushing hard into Paul's mouth. Bowie continued to touch them, urging them on.

It was a struggle, but it wasn't, at the same time. Paul's fingers were twined with his, those eyes
watching him, loving him. Their bodies though -- they pushed and rubbed, needy sounds filling the
air.

Bowie's breath slid over his skin, occasionally a hot tongue following. Then Bowie's strong fingers
were on his prick, freeing it.

"You may both come when you need to."

Paul bit his lip. "Please, Petey. Come on me. Wanna feel you."

He cried out, rubbing hard, ropes tugging his nipples and sending him over the edge, spunk spraying
up along Paul's belly.

"Perfect," whispered Bowie. "Now you, Paul."

"Oh... oh, yes." Paul pushed hard, cock sliding against him, heat splashing.

"Yes. Yes." Bowie's voice was so hoarse and then Bowie cried out, more heat splashing against his
side.

They swayed, leaned toward Bowie, bodies shivering and trembling with aftershocks.

"Mmm... oh, my Pretties. So good. Such good boys."

The ropes came quickly undone and they were lowered into Bowie's lap, those big hands working
their muscles, rubbing their arms first, his and Paul's.

He whimpered, Bowie's hands making his tired muscles melt, his fingers tingle. No part of him was
left untouched, the massage deep, soft purrs coming from Bowie as he worked. Paul lay still beside
him, boneless, so still. He'd never seen Paul so still.

"B...b...bowie?"

"Yes, beautiful?"

"I...is Paul o...okay? H...he's s...so still, so qu...quiet."

"Yes, Peter, he's fine. In fact he's wonderful. At peace. What about you? How do you feel?"

"M...m...melted. W...w...warm. A l....l...little sc...sc...scared." Bowie made him -- made them -- feel so
much.

Bowie held him close, kissing his forehead. "Give me your fear, Peter. Let me have everything but
the good."

He cuddled in, whispering low. "Y...you make us feel a...a...and w...w...we're... I...I...I... I'm scared. I'm
sc...sc...scared you'll st...st...stop liking us. Leave us and we'll n...n...need you."

Bowie nodded. "Needing others is the most scary thing in the world, isn't it?" Bowie tilted his head
to look up into the green eyes. "I have never felt for anyone the way I feel for you and Paul. It scares
me, too, Peter. If you decide to leave me, you will still have each other. I will be alone. And yet... I
cannot imagine not taking the chance and being with you."

His eyes filled with tears. Oh, he loved this man. He did. No matter what Paul said.

"I...I... have s...s...secrets. It w...w...was bad before Pauly. Y...you should know that."

"I know, Peter. Oh, not the details, but I can tell that you have been hurt and know that Paul would
never have been the one to hurt you so in your soul." Bowie kissed him. "One day, Peter, you will
find the strength to tell me and together the three of us will banish your demons forever."

He met those pretty eyes, hands tracing Bowie's face. "I b...b...believe in you."

"And I believe in you, Pet." Bowie smiled down at him. "I imagine we'll manage between us."

He nodded, leaning in for a soft kiss, letting Bowie's strength hold him.

"Sleep now, Peter. You are safe and home in the arms of those who love you."

He cupped Bowie's cheek, curling between them, fingers tangled in Bowie's braid, eyes falling
closed. "Love you, Bowie. Pauly."

Bowie's lips pressed against his forehead and a warm comforter was placed over them all.

A soft command from Bowie dimmed the lights.

He fell asleep before he realized it, warm and safe and home.

***

Bowie woke slowly, warm, wrapped around Peter with his hand on Paul's hip. He could feel the calm
aura of the room, the crisp white lines of everything leaving a smooth, almost icy touch.

It was good.

He was going to have to do something about the bedroom in the twins' apartment, make it more...
user friendly. In the meantime, he and Peter both had something Paul could take care of for them.
He'd break Paul of his need for constant and immediate satisfaction yet.

"Wake up, my Pretties," he murmured, sliding his hand along Paul's spine and dropping a kiss on
Peter's neck.

They both stretched in concert, Paul turning to pet Peter's cheek, stroke the pink hair.

So pretty, so sensual.

He was a very lucky man.

"I need, Paul. So does Peter. Wake up."

Peter shifted, started licking his way down Paul's belly, Paul reaching to draw him into a kiss. "Good
morning, Bowie."

He chuckled, grabbing Peter beneath his armpits and pulling him back up. "Not this morning."

Peter blinked awake, gave him a warm smile. "Y...you first?"

Paul nuzzled Peter's shoulder, humming. "You smell good, Petey."

"No, my Pretty, you're first."

Smiling he stroked Peter's cheek and then Paul's. "Take your time, Paul, we want to savor this."

Paul nibbled on his fingers, playing with the tips with the metal stud. "Haven't been up long enough
to earn Petey's mouth, have I?"

Oh, Paul was leaning. Excellent.

"Quite right, Paul, but maybe once Peter and I have had our pleasure..."

Paul's eyes were twinkling and happy, playful. "Maybe just this once."

"Brat," he accused fondly. "Now make your brother fly."

"Mmm..." Paul kissed Peter's lips. "If I tell you not to come, Petey?"

Peter shook his head. "N...not for you. B...bowie's c...c...c...call."

"Oh, you've deserted me for another..." Paul slid downward, teasing and touching as Peter shook his
head again.

He reached down and popped Paul in the head. "Behave."

Paul's eyes danced up at him, winked. "Yes, sir."

He shook his head. A half step forward and a full step back again. Still, Paul was beginning to think
about what he did. Bowie slid his hands over Peter, fingers finding the pierced nipples and teasing
them.

Peter stretched out, body shifting against him, nipples drawing tight as if they were trying to escape
his touch. He leaned in and licked at Peter's neck, finding the spot that made Peter squirm the most
and then began to work up a mark there.

"Oh. Oh. Oh." He loved the little breathless cries, the eager way Peter pushed the pretty ass against
him, rubbing his cock.

Purring, he kept one hand at Peter's nipples, teasing and playing, while the other stroked the sweet
belly. All the while he watched Paul.

Paul was teasing and playing, fingers drawing circles around the shaved skin over Peter's cock,
tongue nudging the heavy ring in the tip. His own cock throbbed and he rubbed back against Peter.
They were very sexy together. Very.

Peter spread his legs, offering that sweet, tight hole to him.

Oh, yes, very sexy.

He reached back under the mattress. Finding the lube, he slicked his cock up and then slid two
fingers into Peter's body. "No more teasing, Paul."

"Spoilsport."

Then he heard Peter's sharp cry, felt the ring of muscles grip his fingers. He thought maybe he would
need to gag Paul again soon. But not just yet. He spread Peter wide with

his fingers, searching for the small bump that would increase Peter's pleasure. Peter shuddered, hips
bucking as he found it, pushing deep into Paul's lips.

"Yes, Peter, fuck his mouth, make him know he's sucking you." He kept stroking across the tiny
gland.

"Oh. Oh. B...b...b...b..." Peter gasped, body moving faster, harder.

Paul grabbed the thin hips, looked up at Peter. "Hey! I'm the one down here, stuttering sam. Go for
P...P...P...P..."

Peter keened, body begging.

"I hear another word out of you this morning, Paul, I will beat you until you can't sit down for a
week." He took his fingers out of Peter and began to push in with his cock.

"Now suck!"

Peter groaned, pushing back onto his cock, eyes closing. Paul's mouth wrapped around Peter's cock.

He began to fuck Peter, each thrust pushing Peter's cock deep into Paul's mouth. Paul moaned,
hands sliding up along Peter, stroking and petting, driving Peter wild on his cock. Together he and
Paul pushed Peter higher and higher.

Peter was gasping, rocking between them, crying out over and over. Beautiful. Perfectly lost to
sensation. He flicked at the rings in Peter's nipples, mouth returning to Peter's neck and making his
mark bigger, darker. Peter's hands were tangled in Paul's hair, ass clenching him furiously.

"That's it," he murmured softly. "Paul, push him over."

Paul hummed and swallowed and Peter cried out, shaking violently as he came. Moaning, he held his
own orgasm off as Peter's ass squeezed him tight.

"Do you want to suck me?" he asked Paul.

Paul groaned. "Want your cock, Bowie."

He hummed, pleased, and eased out of Peter's ass. "Then you shall have it."

"In my mouth or my ass?" Paul nuzzled Peter's belly, watching him closely.

"I want you to suck me." That had been, after all, what he had offered.

He stroked Paul's cheek, thumb sliding into that hot mouth. Paul sucked his thumb, head bobbing. It
was Peter that moved to clean his cock, the damp cloth shockingly cool on his hot prick.

Moaning, he pushed against Peter's touch. "Quickly," he murmured, his control slipping.

"Yes." His boys spoke together and Paul's mouth sank down on his cock, Peter sliding behind him to
slip that burning tongue over his hole.

He gasped, hips beginning to move, pushing into Paul's mouth and then back onto Peter's tongue.
Oh, it wasn't going to be long at all, not with his pretty Pets conspiring to send him soaring.

Paul was moaning steadily, Peter's legs around Paul’s waist, their bodies moving together between
his legs.

He had never experienced anything like it and in moments he was crying out, keening as he came
hard.

His Pets licked and nuzzled him through his aftershocks, then Paul pushed Peter over, fucking his
twin with a wild hunger.

"Stop." He said the word softly, almost conversationally.

Peter's eyes met him, confused and questioning. Paul shook his head, sobbing, shaking, cock buried
deep. "Bowie. Bowie, please."

He shook his head. "I did not say you could. You may come, but into your own hand."

"He's mine, Bowie. I want to love him. Peter, please, love, tell him."

Bowie could see confusion becoming panic in Peter's dark eyes.

"And you will, Paul. When you have earned it." He held his hand out to Peter. "Come here, Pretty.
We will watch Paul perform for us. We will admire his need and his strength and his beauty as he
makes himself come."

Peter's hand reached up for his and he saw the flash of hurt in Paul's eyes a second before it became
anger and Peter was shoved away. "Who wants fucking sloppy seconds anyway?"

"That's it." He reached under the bed again, pulling out a box and searching through it.

He tossed a gag, a cock sleeve and nipple clamps onto the bed.

"Lie on your back, Paul."

"You're being unfair and mean. You fucking like Peter better because he's a fucking pushover." Paul
pushed at Peter again, glaring at him. "Figures that a fucking doormat would never get in fucking
trouble and always gets what he wants!"

"Every second that you disobey me adds an hour to your confinement and a stroke to your spanking.
By all means, Paul, continue."

He held Peter with one arm, stroking the trembling back, keeping his face and tone even, impassive.
He would not explain himself or answer Paul's accusations. Frankly, Paul didn't deserve it.

Paul looked at him with disbelieving eyes and then just screamed, fury and frustration pouring off
the pale body, released the only way Paul knew.

Then, just as suddenly, Paul stopped, breath coming quick and hard. "I'm so mad at you."

"I know. Lie on your back, please. I won't ask again."

Paul nodded and settled back, eyes closed, breath hitching. Peter was still as a stone, tears streaking
the thin cheeks, eyes hidden behind the pink hair. He gave Peter's shoulders a squeeze, but
otherwise concentrated on Paul. One at a time.

He put the gag on first, not willing to give Paul a chance to lengthen his already lengthy punishment
any further. It was soft leather, with a mouth guard that slipped between Paul's teeth. Effective
without being overly invasive. The next time, Paul would wear the one with the dildo.

Then he placed the nipple clamps on, pinching Paul's nipples to raise them up for the tiny teeth. Paul
moaned, wiggled, eyes blazing at him. He could see the wealth of emotion there, overwhelming his
pet, drowning him. He stroked Paul's arm and then his belly, saddened, but not surprised that Paul
had pushed and pushed him to this.

He stoked Paul's cock back to hardness and slid on the sleeve, keeping Paul hard and caught within
the leather confines.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he patted his own legs. "Assume the position, Paul."

Paul tried to give another scream of frustration, but didn't safeword, just came to him, settled over
his thighs.

"It brings me no pleasure to do this, Paul."

With that he began to spank Paul. Over and over again he brought his hand down until Paul's ass
shone and his hand burned. Paul's cheeks were wet, soft sobs muffled by the gag.

He spanked Paul a few more times and then stopped, hand still against Paul's abused ass.

"You will do nothing to relieve the pain. You will spend the day in your apartment with Peter and I,
serving us. The gag, clamps and sheath will remain in place until I choose to remove them. You will
have to earn their removal, Paul."

Paul nodded, sniffling, shivering a little.

He helped Paul up and put him into a plain white linen robe, sliding into a silk robe himself before
leading Paul back to his and Peter's apartment. Bowie assumed that was where they would find
Peter, who had disappeared as soon as the punishment had started.

The door opened and he caught a glimpse of Peter, fully dressed with wet hair, disappearing into
one of the spare rooms. The boy had been busy -- Paul's favorite breakfast was on the table, along
with a carafe of his favorite juice. The clothes had been picked up and shoved into the laundry chute.
Paul looked over at him, questioning.

"Why don't you go into the bedroom and lie down for awhile? Think about why you were punished.
Give me some time to help Peter."

Paul nodded, then suddenly pushed into his arms for a hug, not staying long, just obviously needing
reassurance. He hugged Paul gently, kissed his forehead, and then watched him go. Paul needed to
grow up. Especially when it came to his relationship with his brother. Bowie only hoped there would
not be too many repeats of today. It took a lot out of all of them.

He went to the room where Peter had gone, knocking softly. "Pretty? Time to come out."

The door opened a crack, devastated dark eyes looking at him.

"W...w...w...w...w...work...king o...on the r...r...r...r...r..." One tear escaped, sliding down Peter's
cheek.

He held out his arms, heart breaking for Peter. Peter pushed into his arms, sobbing softly, the sound
lost and broken.

He held Peter tightly, stroking his hands down along the slender back. "Sh, sh, sh. It's all right, Peter.
Everything's all right."

"S...s...sorry. So s...s...s...sorry."

"Oh, no, Peter, you haven't done anything wrong. Nothing at all."

He tilted Peter's head, brushing the tears off the soft cheeks. "Paul earned his punishment all on his
own."

"H...he's m...mad at m...m...me?" Peter's eyes closed, nuzzling into his hands.

"Oh, no, Peter. He isn't mad at you at all. He claims to be mad at me, but it is himself he is really mad
at."

He put his arm around Peter's shoulders and led the boy to the couch in the sitting room where they
could be comfortable. Peter, who was dressed in thick, fluffy clothes that almost screamed armor,
curled up next to him, head on his shoulder.

"Paul hides behind his words. He's pushy and mouthy and bratty and selfish and that way he never
has to give completely of himself. He never risks his heart being hurt. He has to learn to trust and he
has to learn to focus his anger and upset where it belongs and that is rarely you though you are
where he lets it rest most often."

He could see Peter's need to defend Paul flare in those eyes. "H...h...he g...gave me
e...e...e...e...e...e...." Peter groaned in frustration, hands fisting and then one finger popped up and
Peter went to get a commlink with a keyboard.

"Clever, Pretty," he murmured approvingly. He would have happily waited as long as it took Peter to
make the words come out, but it was obviously very frustrating for Peter.

Peter gave him a smile then started typing.

"Paul gave up a whole life for me. Everything -- clients. A house. A family. He's not selfish. I owe him.
Lots. He saved me. He loved me whenever no one else would."

Bowie nodded. "Yes, he did a wonderful thing. He did it because he loved you. He did it because it
made him happy to do it. But it was his choice to do it, no one forced him. It is not right for him to
take his frustrations out on you. Besides, it seems to me that you two have a good life here, that it
ended well enough for him."

He raised Peter's face and looked into the unadorned eyes. "How long must you pay for his love?"

Tears filled Peter's eyes. "I...I l...l...love him. L...l...love you. I w...w...want us all h...h...happy."

He gathered Peter into his arms again. "Yes, Peter. And I love you and him and he loves you and...
well, I think he will come to love me. And we will all be happy. But it won't be easy. Paul pushes so.
He tests. This will not be the last time he is punished and you must not take it personally. Paul is
punished because of Paul, not because of you."

He brought their mouths together, kissing Peter softly. "Paul needs a firm hand. Ultimately he enjoys
a firm hand and I do not want you to become so upset every time he is punished or pleasured. What
can I do to make this easier on you?"

Peter curled in, brought his hand up to the spots of tension in the base of Peter's skull.

"H...h...hurts. H...help me?"

He purred and began to massage Peter's skull. "This I can do."

He turned his pretty Pet so that Peter sat between his legs and first worked the tension from Peter's
skull and then expanded the massage.

Peter melted, relaxing for him, breath smoothing out. "Oh.B...bowie. That feels so g...good." The low
voice was smoother than he'd heard it since the night he heard the soft singing.

"Wonderful. You must ask any time you would like me to do it."

One of Peter's vertebrae slid into place and a soft, relaxed sigh sounded. "Paul didn't l...like what you
did. Wh...why didn't he s...safeword?"

"Because he didn't like it, but he could take it. You don't safeword just because you don't like
something. You do it because it's going to break you if you don't. Very different things will make you
and Paul use your safewords."

He placed a kiss on Peter's neck. "And if I had let him get away with what he did this morning? He
would have believed I didn't care enough to bring him back in line."

"A...am I a doormat?"

He chuckled. "Because I don't have to beat you to bring you inline?" He stroked Peter's belly. "No,
Peter, you aren't a doormat. You are softhearted and you love a great deal."

Peter smiled at him. "I...I'm not always g...good. Th...there are th...ings I don't like very much.""

"Oh yes? Like what?"

"I... I don't like m...my eyes covered. E...even with the contacts. I don't like it at all."

Well, that was interesting. Peter was almost forceful.

"Why not?"

"B...b...b...because I l...like t...to know wh...wh...what's g...going on. S...so I'm n...not
s...s...s...surprised. S...s...s...s... surpris...s...s...ses sc...sc...scare me. I w...w...watch now."

Peter forced the last few words out, looking almost proud of himself.

"Because of what happened to you before Paul found you?" he asked softly, pushing as gently as he
could. Perhaps it was a good thing Paul had acted as he had -- there was no way they could have had
this conversation with Peter's overprotective twin in attendance.

Peter pulled into himself a little bit, but nodded, eyes still watching, still communicating with him.

"Thank you, Peter, for sharing that with me. I know it isn't easy for you to think about, let alone talk
about, but it's important for me to know." He smiled. "I hope we can speak about this again one day
soon." Baby steps. He had the patience he needed to allow Peter to go at his own pace.

Peter relaxed and nodded, leaning into him easily, trusting him. "G...gonna g...g...get Pauly?"

"Yes, I think that's a good idea. You should get him. He needs to know that you aren't upset with him
and then he can serve us our breakfast and if he's very good, we'll set him free after that."

Peter nodded eagerly, then gave him a kiss. "L...love you."

He put his hand behind Peter's head and kept Peter there a moment as he deepened the kiss,
lingered with it a moment. "I love you, Peter."

Then he let Peter go fetch his twin.

It had been a fruitful morning, despite how it might look from the outside, and he was well pleased
with both his lovers.

***

He was almost asleep when the door opened. He'd curled around the pillows and cried and fussed
and moaned until he was done.

Tired.

Empty.

He didn't want Bowie to go away, but it was so hard. Peter was his responsibility, his brother, his
twin.

And to see Bowie giving Peter what he couldn't, hurt.

Even more than his ass hurt.

And that was a lot.

Maybe even as much as his ass and tits and cock hurt.

If he added his head, 'cause man, his head hurt.

Soft hands smoothed through his hair, petting him, lips sliding over his face.

Oh. Petey.

Peter. Love.

He lifted his chin for a kiss, groaning when the gag was in the way.

"C...c...come out?" Peter tilted his head, motioning. "P...p...please?"

His hand was taken and pressed against Peter's heart and he reached out, grabbing Peter's other
hand. They sat for a long time, hearts beating together. Thump-pathump-pathump.

He met Peter's eyes, saw the love that no one else gave him, right there. No matter what, Peter
loved him, needed him. Always had. He nodded, squeezing Peter's hand. Okay.

Okay, yes.

Peter gave him a smile and helped him up, hand twined with his as they went to the living area
where Bowie waited. Bowie gave him and Peter each a warm smile and met them halfway. The
green eyes were soft, gentle, as was the hand that stroked his cheek.

He sighed and leaned into the touch, nuzzling. He was sorry. He was. He'd just been so mad.

"Are you hungry, Peter? I'm sure that Paul would love to serve us our meal." There was a little
twinkle in Bowie's eyes.

He could see the worry in Peter's eyes and he squeezed Peter's hand, nodding. He wasn't even
embarrassed, which he was sure Bowie expected him to be. He was tired -- tired of controlling his
temper and being sure and thinking. This way he could just let Bowie tell him what to do.

Of course, he was in this fix for not doing what Bowie said. Like pulling out of Peter's ass to jackoff
was a real option, ever.

"Come on then, we'll eat now." Bowie led the way to the kitchen.

He could feel his ass and his nipples and his cock with every motion. He was grateful he could stand,
giving Peter the pale fruits he loved, pouring Bowie's juice.

"Are you hungry?" Bowie asked about halfway through the meal.

He jumped, startled. Everything had been so quiet. He was going to be good and say no, but his belly
rumbled.

Loud.

Traitor.

So he nodded.

"What do you think, Peter, has Paul earned the right to have his gag removed so that he can eat?"

He looked at Peter, who was nodded eagerly, eyes watching him closely.

"And do you think he can remain quiet without the gag, Peter? Until I allow him speech?"

Peter's eyes went wide.

Oh, fuck. C'mon Petey. Starving here.

Starving.

He gave Peter a look.

Peter nodded.

That dammed eyebrow of Bowie's went up, but the man got up and moved behind him, working the
gag loose. Then Bowie leaned in close behind him, whispered for his ears alone. "If you speak, Peter
will take your punishment."

Oh.

He turned to took at Bowie, a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. No. No. Peter wouldn't even
begin to understand.

He shook a little and came close to safewording, but pushed into Bowie's arms instead, finding the
comfort that was there. Bowie held him, hand stroking along his back, stopping before reaching his
ass. "All you have to do is stay quiet until I say you can speak," Bowie murmured quietly. "I know you
can do it."

He nodded, an overwhelmed tear falling unnoticed on Bowie's robe before Peter's hand tugged at
him.

"E..e...e...eat."

Bowie nodded. "Eat. Peter and I have plans for after breakfast."

Peter had fixed him a plate and poured him some juice and he pulled his brother close, kissed those
parted lips in thanks. Then he stood and ate, hungry and thirsty and unwilling to aggravate his sore
ass.

Peter and Bowie finished their meal, Bowie asking the odd question, waiting patiently as Peter
stuttered out the answers. He just ignored them, biting hard on his tongue as Peter worked through
it. Really, it wasn't terrible, Peter was having a good day, relaxing and managing okay.

He'd still be faster.

When they were all finished Bowie asked him to clear and wash the dishes and then join him and
Peter in the sitting room. They left together, holding hands.

Oh, man, the temptation to stick his tongue out was so strong.

Still, Peter'd made breakfast. So it was his turn. So that would be getting in trouble over nothing.
Which was way stupid. And his ass was a little tender for stupidity, so he cleaned up, whistling the
entire time.

When he came to the sitting room it was to find Peter in Bowie's lap, the two of them necking like a
pair of kids. His heart ached and he watched for a minute, feeling more and more like an outsider.
Peter really didn't need him anymore and Bowie needed a sub, which was what Peter was. He knew
Peter loved him, but he wasn't stupid. Peter could fall in love a lot. Peter was good at it.

Maybe he needed a shower.

And a nap.

And to get these stupid clamps off before his nipples fell off.

"Ah, Paul, there you are." Bowie settled Peter next to him, the green eyes intent on him.

"Do you think it's time for your punishment to come to an end?"

He nodded and sniffed, forcing himself not to get all stupid again.

"I do as well." Bowie stood. "Peter, will you help me? You can remove the clamps, I'll take off the
sleeve and then I would very much like us all to make love."

Peter came over, humming over his nipples. One clamp came off, only to be replaced by fierce
suction, Peter's mouth easing the burn away.

Bowie purred, moving more slowly, watching them both, admiration obvious in the green eyes.
Finally the man was standing near, fingers slowly loosening the leather that bound his cock. As it
came away, Peter eased the other clamp off, sucking hard, holding him close. It was so big, so much
and he couldn't quite catch his breath.

Bowie dropped to his knees, green eyes looking up at him as his cock was licked. "Come when you
need to, Paul." Then Bowie swallowed him whole.

He threw his head back, scream trapped in Peter's mouth, those brown eyes loving him.

Loving him. Holding him as he sobbed and twisted and came.

Bowie moaned around his cock, sucking him dry and then nuzzling. Peter held him up, rocking him,
humming, breathing hard at his weight. Bowie's fingers were playing with his balls, sliding behind
them to tease at his skin there. All the while Bowie licked at his prick, convincing him to stay hard.

Bowie's fingers found his rings and he shivered, moaning into Peter's lips.

Bowie growled suddenly. "Bed. Now."

"C...can P...paulie talk?" Peter's hands brushed his ass and he whimpered.

"Your call, Peter."

Peter nodded. "I...i...i...it's unatural."

Bowie laughed, eyes lighting up, smile wide. "You may speak, Paul. Try and be nice, hmm?"

He nodded. "Thanks, Petey."

Peter grinned and kissed him hard. "L...love you. B...b....b...bed."

Bowie tugged on the rings in his perineum. "Yes. Bed. Now."

He gasped and Peter giggled and together they ran, bouncing together on the bed, his ass carefully
still in the air. Bowie crawled up between his legs and began to play with his guiche piercings, licking
the rings and tugging on them.

Peter grinned at him, winking. "L...likes."

Paul gasped, nodded. "Yes, Peter. He likes."

Bowie growled. "Yes. I like. A lot."

Two hands spread his extremely sore ass, the pain tempered by the pleasure of Bowie's tongue
sliding along his crease.

"We'll get Petey matching ones." Paul moaned, "Oh, Bowie. Good. I want you to fuck me. I want that
so much."

"Yes," Bowie growled, tongue pushing into him, fucking him. One of Bowie's hands dropped to play
with the rings and then his balls and then his rings again.

"Oh, fuck. Yes. Yes, Bowie. Can you see it? Me and Peter bent over in front of you, plugged, chain
connecting us by our rings?" He groaned, whimpering as Peter crawled beneath him, licking his cock.

"Fuck!" Bowie surged up over him, thick cock slamming into him, taking him hard.

"Yes!" He screamed, ass afire, body slamming back to meet every thrust. Yes, he needed.

Now. Harder. More. Good. Please.

Bowie seemed to know, and those strong hands grabbed onto his abused ass, fingers digging in as
Bowie fucked him. Peter slid out of the way, giving them room to slam together, to rut, his cries
growing higher and louder and needier.

One of Bowie's hands slid down to wrap around his cock, pulling hard as Bowie grunted and pushed
into him. He jerked, pushing back, fucking himself furiously on that fat cock.

Bowie was like a machine, just pounding into him again and again, fingers tight around his cock and
hard against his ass.

"Paul, yes. Good."

"Needed this. Oh, fuck, Bowie. Needed you." His eyes rolled, cry filling the air.

"I know." Bowie moved harder, faster. "Come for me, Paul. Show me."

He sobbed, shaking hard, spunk spraying as his body responded to Bowie's will. Bowie thrust several
more times and then came, filling him with heat. He collapsed onto the bed, hearing Peter's soft cry
of completion distantly.

Bowie slid out of him, settled next to him, Peter on his other side.

"So good, Paul, so lovely." Bowie's words were soft, as were the hands that slid along his back.

He pressed closer, drinking up the praise. "Even if I get angry sometimes?"

"You're only human," Bowie murmured, giving him a grin. "Seriously, Paul. I'm not going to leave
because you can be a mouthy brat. That will just make me work harder, hmm?"

"I just don't want you two to leave me here alone."

Peter gasped, scooted closer, wrapping around him. "P...p...p...p...pauly!"

Bowie growled softly. "That won't happen, Paul. I will go before I split the two of you apart."

He buried his face in Bowie's hair, whispering. "But he loves you and you like him. I know. I'm scared
that no one will need me."

Bowie held him tightly. "He loves me, but I can't replace you in his life. I'm not you."

Bowie chuckled. "Besides, I'd grow bored without your bratty ways."

That surprised a laugh out of him, and Peter cuddled up against his back.

"Never question your place, Paul. Even tied up and gagged, we both know you're here."

"I like non-gagged, thanks."

Bowie chuckled again. "That depends on you, doesn't it, Pet?"

He nodded, wiggling his ass, feeling the burn. "Yes, Sir."

Bowie gave him a long, deep kiss and then leaned past him and gave Peter one as well.

"Love you, my Pretties."

"L...love you, Bowie. P...p...pauly."

He turned and kissed Peter, then nuzzled into Bowie's arms.

"I think we all deserve a nap." Bowie sounded very sure.

Peter pulled the covers up. "N...n...naps are good."

He nodded, already snuggled in, already sleeping.

Yes. And when he woke, they could play and this time, he'd mind his manners.

Better.

Chapter Six

Peter woke up before Paul and Bowie, took a long shower, alphabetized the inks backwards, and
then went for a walk. He went to the shop and checked tomorrow's appointments. Hugged
Desmond. Got hugs from Kestrel.

He sat and watched Moffat do something neat with kumquats. Then he got some celery for the
lizards and a cup of berries for him. Kestrel stopped him again and asked about where to get work
done outside the club. Then he helped Harley figure out his new costume. It was late then, so he
picked up some food from Moffat who teased him about his hair and he headed home.

Bowie and Paul had moved from the bed to the couch in the sitting room, bodies slowly undulating
together. He smiled at them, held up the food and then whistled for the lizards, shaking the celery.

They turned to him, Bowie's hand reaching for him. "We're lopsided, Peter."

He grinned and set the celery down on the floor, their supper on the table, then settled in for his
kisses.

"Did you have a nice wander, Petey?" Paul looked relaxed, lips all swollen and kissed.

He nodded, tasting Paul's mouth gently.

Bowie purred. "You two are the prettiest things. Especially when you do stuff like that."

Paul moaned for him, fingers sliding through his hair to pull him closer, deepen the kiss and make
him all shivery and melted. Bowie's hand slid over his back, fingers digging in and massaging. His
happy little sound pushed right into Paul's mouth, body almost melting at the touch.

"Oh, Bowie. What are you doing?" Paul's eyes were curious, dark, lovely.

"Touching." Bowie's other hand slid over Paul's shoulders, fingers working Paul's back.

Paul moaned and snuggled back. "Do Peter, Bowie? It made him all boneless and melty. Made him
so pretty."

He blushed dark, burying his face in Paul's shoulder.

"How do you want him?" Bowie asked Paul, even as those thick, knowing fingers began to work his
scalp and neck.

"Resting on me. Want to feel what you do."

Peter wasn't really paying attention, he was busy melting.

Paul and Bowie got them all shifted until he was lying on Paul, Bowie behind him, working his back
muscles. Those were the most amazing hands.

He curled in, humming softly, Paul stroking his hair, his face. "Oh, man. Bowie. I didn't realize how
much tension was in him. Look at his face. He looks young."

Paul was so weird.

Bowie continued to work his muscles, fingers sliding and pressing. "I see him, Paul. I see you both."

When Paul's fingers slid by his lips, he caught them, sucking them in, tongue sliding over the tips.

Bowie made a soft noise, but didn't stop massaging him. Instead the massage moved downward, the
knowing fingers working his ass and then his legs.

Oh. He started to get hard, but was so relaxed he didn't want to wiggle. Paul grinned at him,
nuzzling. "No one'll know but me and Bowie. You just go with it."

Bowie grunted an agreement and then began to undress him, pulling off his shoes and socks and
then his pants, fingers warm and good against his skin, the massage suddenly even more intense.

He moaned around Paul's fingers, the suction rhythmic, echoing through his body, amplified by
Bowie's hands. Bowie even massaged his feet and then carefully worked off his shirt and massaging
his back and shoulders again.

Peter was so hard he was hurting, but fully relaxed at the same time. Paul was hard, too, and
watching him with this intensity that made him blush, made him look away. The movement of
Bowie's fingers grew less massaging and more caressing.

"Mmm... I bet you could touch him deep inside and he'd let you in. He's so relaxed, all boneless." He
blushed again at Paul's words, shifting a little so their cocks were sliding together.

Bowie moaned, heat covering his back. He could feel Bowie's fat prick, hard against him.

"Do you want that, Peter? Do you want my hand inside you?"

He groaned, eyes flashing up at Paul, looking for envy or anger, and finding hot need.

Paul's fingers stroked his cheek, so soft. "I'll be right here, right with you, every breath, Peter. It'll be
all of us right here."

Peter took a deep breath, nodding. Oh, yes. All of them. Right there.

Bowie just purred and moved away, coming back soon with a tube of lube and a kiss for the small of
his back. "Gonna be inside you, Peter."

Paul nuzzled his jaw, humming. "Always wanted to see you like this, Petey. All wanting and happy
and close. I mean, I've seen it, but now I can just hold you and just see it, feel it, you know?"

He grinned and begged a kiss. Yeah, Paul was weird.

Bowie leaned up, pressing into their kiss, sharing it with them. Oh, that was good. It made him
relaxed and harder all at the same time, Bowie and Paul and him, all mixed together.

Bowie was still kissing him and Paul when the first finger slid into his ass. Thick and warm and slick.

He moaned into their kiss and felt Paul's grin against his lips. "So pretty."

"You both are," murmured Bowie. "My Pretties."

One last kiss and Bowie was settled behind him, spreading his legs to either side of Paul's as a
second finger slid inside him. Paul kept kissing him, hands warm and familiar on his shoulders, his
spine, keeping him quiet and relaxed and easy.

A third finger slid into him, a little thicker than Paul's would have been, but familiar nonetheless.
Bowie's free hand was sliding along his back, traveling his spine and melting any tension that dared
to even think about settling in his neck.

It felt good, warm, like he was floating. Paul was still and sure underneath him, Bowie hot and strong
above him.

"You glow, Peter. And it's not the pink, you glow through the pink." Bowie's words were soft, spoken
in that wanton, needy tone. "Another finger, my Pretty."

Paul stroked his forehead, just smiling at him, and he rested down against Paul's chest, nodding. He
could do anything for them. Anything.

Bowie was stretching him so wide, fingers kind of turning in a circle and moving slowly in and out of
him.

Oh. He pulled his knees up, trying to ease the pressure, spread wider. Paul's hands settled him, held
him. "You just relax, Peter. Don't think."

Bowie's free hand settled in the small of his back as the hand inside him disappeared. His skin was
smoothed, Bowie's fingers digging deep.

"I'm getting more of the slick stuff and then it'll be my hand, Peter. Filling you up, loving you. This'll
stretch, maybe burn, but it shouldn't hurt you."

He nodded, the massage on his lower back relaxing him as much as Paul's fingers in his hair. He
didn't know what his body was feeling -- arousal, relaxation, anticipation, need, peace. It was
complicated and dizzying so he took Paul's advice and stopped thinking.

"Here I come, Peter-Pretty. This is me, Bowie, melding with you and Paul, loving you."

The pressure against his hole was incredible, stretching him, Bowie pushing in and in and in.

He keened softly, eyes wide as heat and burn spread through him.

Paul's fingers shook on his head. "Bowie? It's okay?"

Bowie's fingers worked the bundle of muscles in the small of his back, fist still pressing in. "He's fine.
You're fine, Peter. Relax and let me in. You're surrounded by love, let it inside, too."

Peter took a deep, deep breath, feeling something inside him ease, stretch further than he believed
he could.

"L...l...love."

"Yes," murmured Bowie, hand slipping into him just like that. "Love."

Paul kissed his forehead, his temple. "Yeah, Petey. Love. We've got you."

He nodded, just trying to remember how to breathe.

Bowie's hand stopped moving, just stayed inside him, letting him get used to the fact that one of
Bowie's hands, one of Bowie's huge hands, was inside him.

Kisses slid along his spine and Bowie's free hand kept stroking him, fingers pushing into his muscles.
He relaxed, tears sliding from his eyes as adrenaline and anticipation and emotion were pushed out
by Bowie's touch.

"Oh. Oh, Bowie. He's crying." Paul brushed his cheeks, lips sliding. "He's got tears."

"He's not hurting," Bowie said softly. "He's healing."

"Healing?" Paul held him and stroked him and kissed him and he took it all in, then let it go in
another breath. He was too full to hold things in.

"Letting out the bad." Bowie's words were soft, gentle like the touches to his spine. Then the hand
inside him started to move.

Peter moaned, pleasure and fear and raw need in the sound, his next cry more want and surprise
and happiness.

"That's it, Peter, don't think, just feel." Bowie's voice was little more than a sub-vocal growl,
vibrating along his spine.

He could hear Paul's voice, but he couldn't understand, just heard need and pride and awe and heat.
Heat. Paul's heat. His heat. Bowie's heat. He was burning alive, cock suddenly throbbing, every
motion of Bowie's hand sending electricity through him.

Bowie kept moving his hand, so slowly at first and then gradually faster and faster. Paul bucked up
beneath him, one hand stroking their cocks. Someone was keening, a desperate, low, constant
sound pushed from a raw throat. Bowie was purring, the sound vibrating all through his back,
meeting up with the sensations that were sparking inside him where Bowie's fingers stroked deep.

Oh, he needed. He did. So much. He lifted his head, eyes blinking up at Paul, desperate. His twin
smiled, leaned to lick his lips. "You're okay, Petey. You can come, if you need to, yeah? You're okay."

"Yes," whispered Bowie against his skin. "Come for us, Peter. Let me feel you hold my hand tight
inside you."

He sobbed and finally, blessedly came, someone screaming with pleasure, calling out, the sounds
still echoing in his ears as he slumped against Paul.

More kisses warmed his spine and then suddenly, almost without warning, he was empty, Bowie's
hand gone. Peter gasped, so empty, shivering, buried in Paul's arms.

Then Bowie's cock pressed against him, pushed into him, Bowie fucking him slow and deep. He
relaxed, the familiar pressure soothing him, warming him. Paul's fingers slid down, carefully touching
where he and Bowie were joined. Bowie moaned, filling him again and again.

"You're both so hot." Paul's voice was soft, happy. "He looks relaxed, melted."

"He feels amazing," growled Bowie. "I'm gonna come."

He tried to squeeze, to help, but it was Paul who reached up, stroked Bowie. "Fill him up, then."

Bowie cried out, sinking deep and filling him with heat.

Paul's hand moved slowly between them, slowly bringing himself pleasure. "Can I come, too,
Bowie?"

"Yes, Paul. Share your pleasure with us."

"Mmm... Thank you." Paul nuzzled his neck and was arching in no time, heat sliding over his belly.

Bowie pushed and pulled and resettled them so that they were both lying on top of their lover,
curled all together.

"Br...brought food for you both." He let his eyes fall shut, too spent to move.

"I am hungry for my pretty Pets, but thank you, Peter. I will eat later."

He nodded. Sort of. At least he patted Bowie's stomach in agreement. Something like that.

Something he figured they both heard.

***

Bowie was a little stiff.

Well, his back was a little stiff, his prick was a lot stiff.

And both could be laid directly at his twins' feet.

Stiff backs were what happened when one slept on the couch. Stiff pricks were what happened
when one slept curled up around two sexy Pretties.

They hadn't moved from the couch after he'd fisted Peter, hadn't eaten, had only held each other
and slept. He chuckled. He was going to lose weight if nothing else. His arms were full of warm,
lovely men though, so there was much more than food. Much more. His pretty Pets had seen how
good it could be when they all were in sync; he hoped they would hold onto that during the times it
didn't go so smoothly.

Paul's eyes fluttered open, his most wicked Pet still sleep-soft and gentle. "Hey..."

He made a soft noise in reply, nuzzling Paul's neck and then licking at the sweet lips.

Paul kissed him easily, eagerly, dark eyes picking up the hint of blue on those high cheekbones, the
pink of Peter's hair.

So warm. So eager. Such a pleasure. One hand slid into his hair, petting, loving on him.

Paul’s eyes shone at him. He nuzzled into the touches, deepening the kiss. His hand slid up over skin,
Peter's. He could tell them apart now, just by touch.

Peter hummed, shifting a little. He felt Paul smile into their kiss, eyes beginning to twinkle. He kept
kissing -- the best way to keep Paul from mischief? Keep that pretty mouth busy. Paul moaned, look
going soft, hot, hungry.

Oh, the temptation with these two would be to forgo playing in order to just make sweet, wonderful
love. He moved slowly, rubbing against them.

Peter stretched, sliding between them, groaning low.

"So sexy," he murmured, licking at Paul's lips and then turning Peter's face, licking at his as well.
Peter was softer, sweeter, the kiss slow and dazed. Paul pushed into their kiss, added fire, flame. He
purred, tasting them, pushing a little harder against them.

Paul's fingers twined with Peter's, stretching the shorter twin between them, making Peter gasp.
"Can you still feel Bowie stretching you?"

Bowie moaned, hips jerking against Peter, waiting for the answer.

Peter whimpered, gasped. "Y...y...yes. Yes. Str...tr...tretching. me inside."

"You liked that, didn't you?" he murmured.

Peter blushed dark, turning to hide his face in one stretched arm.

He tsked and took Peter's chin, turning the pink face and kissing Peter softly. "Don't hide from us,
Pretty."

Peter's skin was hot, eyes darting, nodding. "I... I... I..."

"Take your time, Pretty." He licked at Peter's lips.

Peter shivered, leaning to deepen the kiss.

He kissed Peter long and gentle, but deep. Then he pulled away, nuzzling their noses together. "You
going to answer my question, Peter?"

Peter nodded, then nodded again. Paul opened his mouth, but a sharp look actually got it snapped
shut. He stroked Peter's back, nuzzled gently, just waiting, holding them all in check.

"Y...y...y...yes." Peter's eyes closed, his pretty Pet taking a deep breath. "I d...d...d...did."

He smiled. "So did I."

Peter moaned softly, rubbing against him, hands pulling against Paul's grip.

Bowie began rubbing once more. "Are we going to play, my beautiful boys?"

Paul leaned in to bite Peter's upper arm and nodded. "Here, Bowie?"

"The couch is a bit cramped. I think maybe it's about time you showed me your playroom, don't
you?" They'd been busy learning and loving each other and he had yet to see the actual room set
aside for sexual play.

After much nodding and shifting and chuckling, his Pets led him to the circus that was their
playroom. The flat surfaces were covered in multicolored silks, except where there were furs piled.
The walls had thousands of pieces of multicolored broken mirrors glued everywhere. The cabinets
are filled with toys and novelties -- most of them pretty and pointless. One big cabinet was locked
and sealed with tape, the word 'NO' scrawled across it in sparkling paint.

The effect was... Dizzying.

He shook his head. This would not do. Not at all. He went to the sealed cupboard and pulled off the
tape, opening it. Perhaps there was something that could be salvaged. Peter peeped and Paul
hurried over. "Those are things Peter didn't want to play with. They came with the room. They made
him nervous. We locked them away."

"Well if they make him nervous we should examine them, discuss what they are used for and decide
whether we want to play with them or not. Locking away your fears will not allow you to conquer
them." Paul was going to have to stop wrapping his brother in layers of silk.

Paul gave him a disbelieving look. "Okay, but if he doesn't want to play, he screams. It's loud." Then
he got a grin and a kiss before Paul turned and pounced Peter, knocking them both into a huge pile
of cushions, mad giggling filling the room.

Bowie rolled his eyes. "Stop."

The soft giggles continued, although they stilled, sort of.

The cabinet he opened held some lovely, unmarred, untouched equipment -- bonds and blindfolds,
whips and floggers and paddles, large smooth plugs and sounds. A lovely collection.

"One of you go get a basket or a box and then I want you both to help me bring this stuff out to the
sitting room."

They would play show and tell today. Peter could ask his questions, voice his concerns, while Paul
acted as model for the toys.

Peter padded off, Paul biting the pink ass on the way. "We're not going to play, Bowie? You don't like
our playroom? Petey and I worked hard on it."

He raised an eyebrow. "And how exactly do you play in here, Paul?" How did they do anything but
have epileptic seizures?

Paul blinked at him, face hurt for a heartbeat before it disappeared. "We play. You know? Fuck. Feel.
Laugh. Boring shit. I'm going to go help Peter find a box."

Then Paul was gone, disappearing like a shot. "Petey? Which room you in? You find a fucking box
yet?"

"Y...y...yeah. L...l...lots. H...help?" Peter's voice was muffled, a low thud sounding, then a giggle.

Bowie sighed and shook his head. He would leave this room as it was, turning one of the other
rooms into a proper bdsm playroom. This way he could have the kind of space he and they needed
and they could still have a mad place to just plain play in.

"Don't get distracted," he called out.

One of the lizards roamed into the room, stretching idly and blinking at him. It took him a second to
notice its tail was painted glittery orange. It made him chuckle, though he shooed it back out, not
wanting it to become locked in when the door was closed.

Peter eventually came back with a box, a daub of purple paint on his nose and a hickey on his throat.
"B...b...b...box." He got a kiss and the box was handed over.

"Thank you, Peter. Will you help me?"

"I...in the b...b...b...box?" Peter nodded.

"Yes. We're going to bring them into the sitting room and discuss them. Where's Paul? He knew I
wanted his help as well."

"B...b...b...b...b..." Peter frowned and stamped his foot. "Bathroom. P...p...paint fell."

"Okay." He stroked Peter's cheek and gave his sweet pretty a kiss. "No need to get impatient. You'll
eventually get it out, hmmm?"

Peter rolled his eyes and nodded, then started to pull things out and put them in the box. Eventually
Paul wandered in, face and hair glittering and made up and bumped hips with Peter.

"Paul. I know you weren't happy with what you considered my condemnation of your playroom, but
you knew I wanted your and Peter's help with moving this stuff to the sitting room and I'm not
happy that you chose to ignore that in favor of putting on your armor."

Peter gave him a surprised look and Paul's look was an odd mixture of frustration and disbelief.
"One, the paint fell and I had to wash it off and needed to retouch so it's not armor, it's pretty. Two,
you haven't moved anything into the sitting room yet and I'm here. Three, you're allowed to be not
happy."

"Indeed, I'm glad I'm allowed to be not happy, because I'm growing more not happy as the moments
pass. We agreed that when I told you to do something, you did it. You were there, Paul. You agreed
to that. You cannot pick and choose what commands you listen to and which you don't." In fact he
was getting angry, annoyed that a pleasant morning of going through the various toys and perhaps
playing with them was being derailed by Paul's childishness.

Paul looked at him. "Yellow light."

Peter was frowning, eyes flicking between them.

What? He nearly said it out loud but managed not to. Instead he took a deep breath, took the box
from Peter and put it on the floor. "Very well, Paul. Yellow light. What's the problem?"

"I need to talk to you." Paul's chin went up, eyes hurt. "I didn't not do anything you asked. I didn't
pout or throw a fit. I didn't run away. You're accusing me of not listening to you and I did. The paint
fell and I washed it off and fixed back up. I didn't dawdle. I didn't wait for you to be done. I do
enough to be bitched at for, don't make things up because this room isn't what you expected and
you're disappointed."

Peter made a soft little sound, hand reaching out to stroke Paul's arm, then his own. Bowie held
onto his temper with very great effort. "I do not 'make things up'. I may have misread your actions,
but I do not deliberately look for reasons to punish you and frankly, I'm hurt that you would think
that I do." He took a deep breath, Peter the only thing keeping him from retreating to his own quiet,
calm rooms.

"You are not listening to me. You don't have to look for reasons. I'm a fuck up, I know that, but you
said that I didn't do what you said and I did. So, be mad that I didn't do what you expected or what
you wanted."

"Can we please get out of this room so that I can think? I need a glass of water and a moment of
quiet to contemplate what you've said." The riotous color was enough to make anyone crazy.

"Sure." Paul patted Peter's hand and nodded. "I'm going to go to the bedroom and find a robe. I'm
still cold from washing." Dark eyes met his. "I'm sorry if I disappointed you, but I needed to tell you."
Paul left, doing an admirable job of not flouncing or pouting.

Bowie closed his eyes and counted to five and then opened them again and gave Peter a kiss. "Could
you bring this box out for me, please, Peter? I just need two minutes to center myself. Note the time
on the clock and fetch Paul into the sitting room in a few minutes, please."

He went to the kitchen, feeling better as soon as the room itself was behind him, had his glass of
water and went to sit on the floor in the sitting room.

Closing his eyes, he let himself grow calm. Had he been upset with Paul because he was
disappointed? Perhaps a little, though he liked to pride himself in not taking his own feelings out on
his subs. Perhaps it was just that he expected sass from Paul and when he got anything that could be
interpreted that way, that's how he saw it. At any rate, Paul needed an apology for being made to
feel as if he must apologize for yellow lighting.

Then they would get their morning back on track.

When he opened his eyes, the box was on the floor and he could hear the quiet murmurs of his Pets,
subdued and low, comforting each other, before Peter drew Paul out. They settled on the couch,
Peter curled on Paul's lap, Paul wrapped in a shiny blue robe.

He gave them a smile. "I'm sorry, Paul, if you felt that I was upset that you called a yellow light. It did
surprise me, but it didn't anger me."

Paul nodded. "I just needed to tell you."

He nodded as well. "Yes, you did." He could see Paul relax, could see it in the way Peter's tension
eased, feel it in the air. He took a deep breath. "I will also try to take a breath before reacting, Paul.
So that we are all sure that I am not being overly harsh."

"Thank you." Paul met his eyes, arms holding his twin. "Petey and me talked and we'll take
everything out of the room and you can have someone in to make it so it doesn't hurt your head."

"If that is what you want, though I am happy to leave it as it is, and we will use one of the other
rooms as a place where I can play with you. Real BDSM games. Then the two of you may use the
colored room as you wish."

Peter pulled Paul close, whispering softly. Paul nodded and looked at him. "Peter says maybe we can
design something together -- we've got three whole sets of rooms between us. There's lots of
rooms, but right now, just yours and ours. Nothing that's all of ours yet."

Bowie beamed. "Your twin is a very smart man, Paul."

Paul nodded. "He is. Are you mad at me?"

"No, Paul, I am not."

"'kay." He got a tremulous smile, then Paul buried his face in Peter's hair.

"Oh, come here, Paul." He held out his arms. Paul obviously needed the reassurance that he usually
associated with Peter. He was more than happy to give it.

Peter looked over at him with a grin, then slid off Paul's lap. "G...g....go get s...s...some love."

Paul moved into his arms, refusing to meet his eyes.

"Silly Pet," he murmured, holding Paul close, stroking him.

"Yeah, but I'm yours." The whisper was soft, almost lost in his shoulder.

"Yes, Pet, you are." He squeezed Paul. "What can I do to prove it, hmm?"

Perhaps a whipping or paddling was in order, but without going through the toys with the two of
them, he wouldn't know what was going to freak Peter out. He still thought their best course of
action was to go through the toys and find out exactly what was what.

Peter walked over with glasses of juice and sat with them. "B... b... b... b... b..."

Paul nodded. "Yeah, Petey. All better."

"Are we ready to play a little, then?" His Pets nodded in concert, skin rubbing against him.

"Peter, would you go get something out of the box? It doesn't matter what; we're going to go
through the whole box and discuss each item."

"D...d...discuss them?" Peter dragged the box over, finding a flat wooden paddle and handing it over.

"Find out what they are, why you relegated each one to the closet, things like that." He smiled,
stroking Peter's cheek reassuringly before taking the paddle from him. "You know what this is?"

Peter nodded, stroking Paul's ass with a grin and a wink. "P...p...p...paddle."

He chuckled. "Yes, I imagine Paul's extremely familiar with this particular implement. Although I
must say that you can do some interesting things with it with cock and balls if you are careful. Now
why was it in the No cupboard?"

"I...I...I...I..."

Paul leaned over and petted Peter. "All the slappy, whippy ones are in there, Bowie."

"All right, Peter doesn't like slappy, whippy -- why?" he asked, turning to Peter.

"B...b...b...b...because it h...hurts." Peter gave him a confused look.

"Peter doesn't go for pain for no reason. I mean, piercings where there's a ring later? Yeah. But
erotic spankings? No." Paul shrugged, shifting in his lap, cheeks a little flushed.

"But you like it, Paul. In fact you like it all, so why wouldn't Peter whip you?" It was a valid question,
though he suspected it was one neither twin might be overly eager to examine.

"No." Peter shook his head. "N...no. L...l...l...l...love him."

Paul leaned close, whispering, reassuring himself by sliding their bodies together. "You'll make him
upset, Bowie. You will."

Bowie shook his head and slid a hand along Peter's cheek again. "We're only talking, Peter. Just
talking. There's nothing to get upset about. I know you love Paul and wouldn't want to hurt him, but
he enjoys being whipped and paddled, he likes the pain."

Peter shook his head. "I...I... d...d...don't want to h...hurt him. I d...don't want h...him to hurt
m...me."

Bowie nodded. "Fair enough. Is it going to bother you when I whip or paddle him? Keeping in mind
that I only spank him as punishment, anything else would be because he enjoys it."

"I...I...I don't know. I...I'll try not to b...b...be." Peter shrugged. "W...why does he? It h...h...hurts."

"Paul? Would you like to answer that one?" He had his theories, but as he wasn't the least bit of a
masochist himself, he couldn't answer definitively.

"It's like I told you, Petey. It's not like when you were... Like before. It's hot. It burns and I can just
feel and after I can feel and feel and feel."

"Does it take you out of yourself at all? During the scene?"

Paul blushed deep. "Yeah. I don't have to be... I can just feel whatever you want me to feel."

He purred softly. "We can discuss that. It's important we all get what we need from scenes. Peter.
Would you prefer to be present during this kind of scene, or would you prefer we do it while you
aren't around?" He was hoping Peter would choose to be with them. He had ideas for ways Peter
could be involved in the scene without being on the giving or receiving end of the blows.

Peter's eyes went wide. "I...I...I...I'm always h...h...here."

"Good. Good. I prefer to have you involved." He stroked Peter's cheek, waiting for the wide-eyed
look to fade. It did and Peter nuzzled into his touch, relaxing.

"What implements do you like the most, Paul?"

"Heavy, thudding ones, nothing that cuts -- I don't want to mess up my skin."

"Oh, I'm good with those." He looked through the box, pulling out a thick leather strap with small
studs in it. "Something like this?" He nodded at the paddle. "Or that."

Paul whimpered, ass shifting on his thighs. "It depends. If there's no time? The paddle. If there's
time? The other."

"MMmm... I do like the way you think at times, Paul." He leaned in and kissed Paul.

"What else is in that box, Peter?"

Peter leaned over and grabbed a hefty anal plug, heavy and wide, putting it in his hand.

"Oh, now this looks like something too large to fit anywhere, doesn't it?" He winked.

"You have a problem with plugs, Peter?"

Peter grinned and shook his head, fingers motioning smaller.

Bowie chuckled. "You're not a size queen?"

Peter shook his head and Paul grinned. "Petey, love. You love being stretched, being filled. You took
Bowie's hand."

Peter turned dark red, face disappearing behind pink hair.

"Paul's got a point. Of course my hand is more personal than this, warmer. Different, yes, Peter?"

Peter nodded. "N...n...n...not to l...l...l...l...leave i...in."

"Ah. Why not?"

Peter frowned, eyes confused. "W...w...w...walking?"

"You can walk with a plug in."

Peter shook his head. "I...i...i...it would b...b...be s...so much."

He nodded. "It would a lot. But you said so much, not too much... would you be willing to give it a
try? With a much smaller plug of course." He moaned softly at the thought of his Pretties, filled and
waiting, ready for him.

Paul nuzzled against him, slinky as a cat, watching Peter silently.

Peter nodded slowly. "I...I...I'll T...try."

"Oh, Peter! You are a treasure, aren't you?" He pulled Peter over to him and Paul, nuzzling the sweet
boy. Peter cuddled close, stretching for his kisses, Paul's hand sliding over Peter's belly.

"Would you want to try that now, Peter?" he asked, pushing just a little.

Peter swallowed hard and cuddled close. "W...we'll st...st...stay here. T...t...together?"

Paul kept petting his twin, watching, loving.

"Of course, together. It wouldn't be any fun if I didn't get to watch both of you squirming as you sat."
He grinned. "We'll let Paul take the big one."

Paul blinked, gave him an eye roll and a wink. "You're always picking on me."

He chuckled. "Oh, Paul, I haven't yet begun to pick on you."

"When are you going to start picking on Peter?" Paul nuzzled up towards his ear, whispering. "Be
careful, yeah? 's been a long time for anything that large."

"When he starts getting mouthy and pushy, I'll start picking on him." He licked at Paul's neck and
whispered back. "Would you prefer my cock to stretch you first?"

Paul shuddered hard, entire body shaking. "Please..."

He moaned. "Peter? Get the lube." Then he brought their mouths together, kissing Paul hard.

Paul gasped and then met his kiss full-on, hands sliding into his hair. He growled into the kiss,
grabbing at Paul's ass, fingers sliding over the silk robe. Paul pushed into his hands, rocking, begging
for it. He rolled Paul onto the floor, following, pressing down into Paul's warm body.

One of Peter's hands slid over his shoulder, handing the lube over. He pushed it back into Peter's
hands and then rolled them again so he was on the bottom. "You get him ready for me." Peter's eyes
went wide, then hot, Peter's hand sliding down Paul's back.

He went back to kissing Paul, helping Peter pull off the blue robe.

When Paul was naked, Peter knelt behind, slicking his fingers, humming softly. When Peter pushed
deep, Paul groaned, arching into him, eyes dark and needy. He moaned into Paul's mouth, cock hard
and leaking at the thought of taking Paul and then plugging him, leaving a part of himself inside Paul.

Then he would do the same thing with Peter.

Paul undulated, pushing down against him, riding Peter's fingers. "Oh...oh, Petey... So good."

"How many are you using?" Bowie asked, sliding his hand down to touch, to feel where Peter's
fingers disappeared into Paul's body.

"T...t...t...two." Peter's fingers were pushed deep, stroking inside Paul.

"Mmm... add a third, Pretty."

Peter's hand shifted, then pushed in again, Paul's cry low and needy.

"Stretch him well, Peter, I'm not small." He grinned and winked.

Peter looked over at him, eyes hot, the image of seduction. "I...I...I...I know."

His cock twitched hard against Paul's belly. "Hurry," he growled.

Peter's slick, hot fingers wrapped around his prick, slicking him, then Peter backed away.

"H...he's r...r...ready."

Paul nodded, hips shifting.

He rolled them again, kneeling between Paul's spread legs. He took Paul's feet, hooked them over
his shoulders and then started to push in, eyes on Paul's.

"Yes..." Paul arched, dye and paint and glitter and need making him seem otherworldly.

Bowie pushed all the way in, watching as he started to fuck Paul. They were different, his Pets.
Where Peter was all yielding passion, body begging to take more, deeper; Paul was all heat, hips
constantly moving, pulling off his cock and slamming back on with a furious pace.

He kept pushing harder and harder and then wrapped his hand around Paul's cock, urging Paul
toward the edge.

"Oh. Oh. Oh. Bowie!" Paul's cries echoed, slim body jerking, ass squeezing him tight.

"Yeah, that's it, Paul. Wanna feel how good it is. Wanna feel you on my cock."

"Yes." The word was almost a scream, Paul going stiff and so tight as seed sprayed over his fingers.

He let Paul's orgasm pull him over and with a cry of his own, he filled Paul with his heat.

Peter's hand brushed over Paul's face, free hand working his own full prick.

"Wait for me," he warned Peter. He nodded toward the large plug Peter had pulled out of the box.
"Lube that up."

He kissed Paul, staying buried deep as he waited for the plug.

Paul hummed into his kiss, relaxed and sensual, eyes dancing. "We should do this every morning
before arguing, Bowie."

He chuckled. "It's not a half bad idea, Paul."

Paul winked and Peter handed him the plug, slick and heavy. "Thank you, Peter."

He tilted Paul's hips up further and carefully pulled out, pushing the plug home before any of his
seed could slide from Paul's body. Paul stretched, body flushing dark, spent cock jerking.

He purred. "Enjoying yourself, Paul?"

"Full..." Paul licked his lips, blinking slow.

"Yes, I imagine you are." He pressed a kiss on Paul, fingers jostling the plug, making sure it was well
seated.

"Bowie..." Paul jerked away, moaning low.

Peter was watching with huge eyes, cock swollen.

"Just making sure it wasn’t going to fall out." He winked, gave Paul another kiss and then turned his
attention to Peter.

"Well, Peter. You're up. Chose the plug you think you'll be comfortable with."

Peter blinked and looked over at Paul for help.

Bowie shook his head. "Paul isn't you, Peter. You didn't want the big one. I assume there are others
in the box. If not I have a collection I can get, but the choice is yours to make. Small or large, thick or
thin, long or short. The choice is yours and you must make it."

Peter almost pouted. Almost, but Paul reached out and slid one hand around Peter's cock.

"Relax, Petey. You want to play, I can see it."

Then Peter whimpered softly and started looking through the box.

Bowie wrapped a hand around his own prick and pumped, bringing it back to life, making himself
hard again. It wasn't very difficult -- his two Pretties were very sexy.

Peter came back with a medium-sized plug made of warm, flexible material and placed it in his
hands.

He brought Peter's mouth down to his own, giving Peter a teasing kiss. "Thank you, Peter. Now let's
make love."

Peter scooted into his lap, arms wrapping around his neck. "Y...y...yes."

He brought their lips together again, arms wrapping around Peter, hands settling on his pretty Pet's
lap. Peter relaxed into the kiss, humming, cock hot against his belly. Where Paul's kisses were hard
and needy, Peter's were slow and deep and full of a heavy, sensuous want. Both were hot, both
turned him on, but Peter's made him linger. Another time he and Peter would make love and come
just from kissing. But not today.

Peter cuddled into him, fingers combing through his hair, petting him. Moaning, he brought one of
his hands around to play with the rings in Peter's nipples. Peter gasped and shivered, Paul's chuckle
warm and fond.

He smiled over at Paul. "Do you want to get Peter ready for me?"

Paul grinned back, nodded, reaching carefully for the lube. "Still say we should get Peter pierced like
me so we match from behind."

His moan was more of a growl, his cock jerking hard against Peter's skin. He could get behind that
idea.

"It would be pretty, Peter. Two little rings and bent over, Bowie couldn't tell us apart."

Peter bowed as Paul's fingers pushed in, shaking his head. "H...h...he could t...t...tell."

He chuckled. "Peter's right. I can already tell you apart in the dark, by touch, by taste, by sound, by
smell. Stretch him well, Paul, I'm not small." He winked and went back to kissing Peter.

Peter moaned for him, the ring in the tip of that stiff prick tickling as it slid, Peter riding Paul's
fingers, shivering in his arms. Bowie was needy again, wanting just as badly as he had with Paul, and
he'd just come. These two inspired him.

He deepened the kiss, hands roaming over Peter's warm skin.

Paul's hand slid around his prick, slick and smooth, pumping him steadily.

He growled, pulling away from the kiss with a gasp. "He ready for me, Paul?"

"Mmmm... yes. Yes, he's all slick and spread."

Peter blushed dark, head ducking. He hummed, nuzzling Peter as he pulled his pretty Pet closer,
tilting the thin hips so he was pressing against Peter's ass. Paul's hands were there, helping, lining
them up so the tip of his prick teased Peter's hole.

"Take me in, Peter."

Peter moaned, sank down on him with one sweet, luxurious motion.

Groaning as a ripple of pleasure moved through his spine, he wrapped his arms around Peter.
"Ready?" he asked.

Peter nodded, lapping at his lips. He fed Peter a moan and started to move, arms helping Peter rise
up and come back down onto his cock.

"Mmm..." Peter moved with him, slow and languorous, eyes dark and hot.

He shivered, pleasure tickling along his nerves. In complete contrast to his brother, Peter flowed
over him, around him, riding him slowly and easily. He worked his hips, pushing into Peter, making it
good for both of them as he purred.

Peter's face cuddled against his shoulder, lips brushing his skin. "Bowie..."

"Yes, love?"

"Feels s...so good. So good. L...love you."

"Yes. Yes, it does." He nuzzled Peter's neck and then went in for another kiss, whispering his own I
love you on Peter's lips. Peter moaned, smiling at him, eyes shining.

He brought one of his hands around again, sliding his fingers against Peter's nipple piercings before
wrapping his hand around Peter's hard cock.

Paul leaned against Peter's back, fingers replacing his on those hard nipples. "You're so pretty
together. So fine."

"You two make fine accessories..."

Paul chuckled. "Accessories to what?"

"Me," he growled, having to work hard to say the words around the pleasure. "Make me...look
good."

Two laughs answered him, one happy, one husky.

He moaned, shifting Peter so he nailed that sweet gland every time Peter came down on him. Peter
cried out, head falling back, shaking hard. He moved Peter faster, hips working hard, hand stroking
Peter's cock. A dark flush covered Peter's body and he screamed, jerking and sprayed seed between
them.

Moaning, Bowie came, too, pushing heat deep into Peter.

Peter slowly relaxed, cuddling into his arms.

"Mmm... sweet boy." He stroked Peter's back.

"Paul, can you get Peter's plug ready, please?"

Peter's ass clenched around his cock as Paul nodded. "Yes, Bowie."

He purred, hands working Peter's back to keep him loose and easy. Paul pressed the plug into his
hand, warm and slick, lips trailing over Peter's shoulder. He lay back carefully, bringing Peter with
him, and slid the plug in gently as soon as his cock came out.

"There," he murmured, hands still gentling Peter. "My boys all plugged up for me."

Peter turned towards Paul, who leaned in and kissed Peter gently. "Yeah. So sexy, Petey. So hot."

"You both are." He kissed Peter again and then Paul, before helping Peter up and settling on the
couch. "I think I'm going to spend the day making you walk around and I shall watch like the love-
struck fool I am."

"The d...d...day?" Peter blinked over and Paul chuckled.

"Oh, he'll decide to play with something else in the box, Petey..."

"Would you like that, Paul? Would you like me to find something else to play with?" He nodded at
the box. "We should at least take a look at what all is left. Peter?"

Peter blinked over at him and Paul grinned wolfishly.

"I promise we won't use anything else we discuss today unless you want to."

Paul looked over. "Can I come sit with you?"

Peter nodded and gave him a warm, grateful smile, moving carefully towards the box.

"Peter, feel free to give Paul's plug a bit of a jostle, but he's allowed to do you whenever you do
him."

He sat back, wondering if Peter would be bold enough to do it at all.

Peter blushed and hid behind his hair, heading for the box. The thing Peter brought forth next was a
heavy single-tailed whip.

"Mmm... that looks like a nice one. Not my best tool, I must admit -- it takes a real skill to wield one
properly. I hear Mal's a master with it."

Paul nodded. "Mal is. Des, too. Those scare me. They cut." Peter looked over at Paul, then twined
their fingers together.

"Well I'm happy to put the whip up for adoption with Mal, but I'd like for the three of us to watch
Mal or Des work with it one day. Just observe, see what a real pro can do with it." He stayed casual,
but he was watching them closely.

Paul looked as if he was going to argue, but Peter nodded and Paul relaxed. Always so protective.
"Sure, Bowie. Okay."

"Put that in the giveaway pile. All right, make a giveaway pile and that'll be the first item. What else
have you got in there, Peter?"

"Th...th...there is just l...l...l...l...leather st...st...st...st..."

Paul looked over. "Restraints, harnesses, blindfolds. A ball gag."

"Ah, now this is my balliwick. And I know you like the restraints, Peter. The times I've tied you both
we've all enjoyed ourselves immensely."

Peter nodded, handing the cuffs and thigh restraints to him.

He smiled his thanks and checked them out. "Eh, they're not so special. I'll have to talk to that big
leather works chap -- Moose? -- get him to make me some custom stuff for us."

Paul grinned. "Mouse. He's a lover. Big and mean-looking, but all heart and soft-touches."

"Mouse, right. I've got a few things in mind, maybe you two have suggestions as well?"

Peter shook his head, but Paul shrugged. "Mouse has got anything and what he doesn't? Hawk does.
I... Peter hasn't done a lot and my top from before, it wasn't... complicated."

He nodded. "I like to consider myself an artist with restraints. And you two... quite the canvas. We
will create such beauty together."

His Pets blushed together, each giving him a smile, so lovely. Paul pointed to the harnesses. "They're
too big. Weird. We couldn't make them work."

"Hmm." He frowned and checked them out. "You're right, they're much too big. You'd have played
with them otherwise?"

They looked at each other, then shrugged. Paul tilted his head. "If they didn't look stupid…"

He chuckled. "I'll see what Mouse and I can come up with. I think the two of you would very much
enjoy swinging in a sling."

"I...I...I l...l...like swings." Paul looked at Peter, but kept quiet, nodding, holding back his laughter.

"Good. Good." He smiled and tossed the harnesses into the giveaway pile. "We are going to have
such fun."

Paul held up the ball gag on one finger, eyebrow lifted.

"Now I understand why Paul doesn't like those; what about you, Peter? Do you have a problem with
gags?"

Peter shrugged, then gave him a mischievous grin. "I...I...I...I...I c...c...come b...b...built
w...w...w...w...with one."

He laughed. "We'll save this for Paul, shall we?"

Paul stuck his tongue out, then winked. "They taste bad."

"We'll have to soak them in Peter's and my come then."

Paul blushed dark, cock jerking, and tossed the gag into the "keep" pile.

He hummed happily. Paul was a little pervert, wasn't he? Just how Bowie liked them.

Peter held up the last things -- hoods and blindfolds, leather, fur, silk -- and handed them to Paul.

Well these weren't his favorite toys, but he was interested in Peter's reasons, not his own.

"Peter?"

"Wh...wh...what?" Oh, that was almost sullen.

Paul looked worried, hands reaching for Peter, lips parting.

"Don't, Paul," he warned. "Touch, soothe, do not speak."

He gave them all a moment and then cupped Peter's chin, turned the pretty pink face up to him.
"You're safe here, Peter. Please tell me why the hoods and blindfolds were packed away."

Peter shook his head. "D...d...d...d....d...d...d...d...d..."

Paul petted Peter, stroking belly and chest and back, visibly worried.

He went and sat behind Peter, fingers digging into Peter's back, massaging. "This is a safe place,
Peter. Paul and I love you. You can tell us anything."

Peter looked at Paul; he could see the worry in Paul's eyes, those fingers petting Peter's face.

"D...d...don't l...like them."

"I'm not particularly fond of them myself. Will you tell me why you don't like them?" He kept his
voice low, calm, continued touching and massaging, encouraging Peter to stay calm, to feel safe
enough to speak.

Peter shook his head. "P...p...p...pauly c...c....c...c...can."

"Fair enough. Paul?"

Paul looked at Peter, eyes serious, then spoke. "Things were bad for Petey. The guy who had him
before me was bad and Peter doesn't like being in the dark. It doesn't matter any more because I
found him and we ran and he can't have Peter back and it's over. All over. Hear me, Petey? All
done."

He growled just a little, hands sliding around Peter to give him a hard hug from behind.

"Yes, Peter. Paul saved you and now I'm here, too, and no one will hurt you." Some people didn't
deserve to live, let alone have Pets of their own.

Peter nodded and threw the blindfolds into the throw-away pile. "No. No. N...never."

He nodded. Some things didn't need to be explored. "I promise you, Peter, that I will not ever
blindfold you or Paul."

Peter nodded and pushed into his arms, holding him and shaking a little, slowly calming.

It was Paul whose eyes were filled with tears.

He reached out, stroking Paul's cheeks. "It's all right, Paul. He's all right."

Paul nodded, looking down. "He used to just need me when he was scared. It's hard to share."

"Oh, Paul, I'm not trying to replace you." He held one arm out so Paul could join the holding. "He
needs us both, pretty Pet."

Paul came easily, both his boys warm and settled against him. Quiet. Relaxed. Trusting.

They sat together for awhile, rocking while he petted them, stroking their spines. It felt good, to
enjoy the quiet after their open and fruitful discussions. He was very proud of both his Pretties.
Peter for speaking, Paul for letting his brother speak and for sharing himself instead of hiding behind
sass.

After a long while he grinned and let his fingers tease down along the creases of their asses. "How
are those plugs, my pretty Pets?"

"Still in." Paul chuckled and shifted away, bumping into Peter.

The movement made his finger slip and he jostled Peter's plug by accident. Peter peeped, pushing
closer into his arms, eyes wide. Chuckling, he did it again and then reached for Paul, fingers finding
the base of the thick plug and jiggling it. Paul groaned, ass pushing out, trying to stretch where
Bowie couldn't reach.

It made him chuckle some more and he wrapped his arm around Paul's waist, pulling him in close.
"Peter? Would you check Paul's plug for me, please? Just jostle it a little, make sure it's seated right."

"Bowie!" Paul's complaint was all play; those pretty eyes were dancing and playing for him,
resistance a tease.

Peter reached back, hand moving carefully, nudging the plug and making Paul groan.

"Mmmmm... do you enjoy that, Peter? Making Paul moan?"

Peter looked over at him and nodded, eyes warm, fingers sliding again, slow and sure.

He chuckled. "Paul? Would you go to your hands and knees, please? Peter and I would like to play."

Paul groaned. "Oh... No fair."

Peter giggled as Paul moved onto his hands and knees.

"Oh, I think it's more than fair. Peter and I will take our pleasure giving you pleasure." He stroked a
hand along Paul's back. "Do continue Peter, do what you want."

Peter blushed dark, bent to kiss Paul's lower back. That beautiful hair went everywhere, hiding what
that slender hand was doing to make Paul shudder. Purring, he slid his hand down to tease the two

rings that made his own cock jerk, then he found Peter's fingers and followed them. Peter was slowly
turning the plug, fingers careful and gentle, but insistent.

Oh. Oh, his pretty, bashful Pet was good at this when he wanted to be.

He leaned over and licked Peter's ear. "You're a natural, pretty Pet."

Peter heated and moaned softly. "L...like to m...make him f...feel good."

He nodded. "And you do a good job."

He brought their mouths together, giving Peter a long, slow kiss as he helped Peter turn the plug.

Paul groaned, hips starting to sway, to shift. "Petey..."

Peter's eyes shone and he nuzzled Paul's back again.

Bowie kissed Peter again and then gave him a wink before moving to lie beneath Paul.

There Bowie set to work, licking and nuzzling Paul's nipples, fingers playing over Paul's cock and
beyond to the sweet little rings. Paul was moaning, rocking above him, jerking every time his fingers
caught the rings.

"Beautiful, my Pretties. Just beautiful."

One of Peter's fingers found his side, his hip, sliding through the curls above his cock. He purred
around the tight little nipple in his mouth. Paul moved faster, hips pushing towards Peter's fingers,
demanding, needing.

"So hungry, Paul."

Paul nodded, keening, body shuddering above him. "Bowie... Petey..."

"Keep playing, Peter."

He slid down, licking at the tip of Paul's prick.

"Bowie!" Paul lurched forward, crying out.

He grinned and licked again before settling with his mouth around the tip, sucking and teasing the
slit with his tongue.

"Petey! Petey, please! I need..." Paul kept moving, body jerking.

He pulled off for a moment. "Fuck him with it, Peter."

Purring at the thought, his own cock hard as nails, he went back to sucking, one hand reaching down
so he could play with those enticing rings, the other reaching up for Paul's hard little nipples. Paul's
sounds were dark, hungry, pure need, cock leaking into his mouth. He sucked harder, letting more
and more of Paul's cock in, fingers working hard.

"Gonna come. Please. Gonna..." Paul shook, voice hoarse.

He nodded and sucked harder, working with Peter to send Paul flying. Paul's scream was sweet,
sharp, seed flooding his mouth. He swallowed it all down, keeping Paul's prick in his mouth, sucking
gently.

"C...c...can I t...t...take it out, B...b....b...b...bowie?"

He let Paul's prick go. "Yes, Peter. Take it out and fuck him."

"F...f...f... B...b...b...b...but I...I...I..."

"Petey, please." Paul was rocking, moaning.

He slid out from under Paul's body to stroke Peter's cheek. "Don't you want to?" he asked.

Peter shook his head, but the hard, heavy cock belied the motion.

He wrapped his hand around Peter's cock, stroking while Paul panted and begged. "No? You don't
want to fuck your brother while I fuck you?"

Peter whimpered, hips shifting, lips parted and damp. He reached around, jostling the plug inside
Peter. Peter gave a low cry, arching, hands tightening on Paul's ass.

He moaned, moving around to kneel behind Peter. "I'm going to take it out now. You take out Paul's.
And then we'll make love."

"Please, Petey. Please. I've wanted you so long, love. So long. Please." Paul's voice was a constant
song of need as Peter's trembling hand reached for the plug and began to pull it out.

"That's it, Pet." He licked at Peter's neck and began to slide the plug from Peter's body, letting
Peter's own progress with the plug in Paul guide him.

Peter pulled slowly, the wide part stretching Paul's body, a low groan filling the air.

"So sexy," Bowie murmured, pulling the plug out of Peter just as slowly. They made him so hard,
these two.

Both plugs slid free, his Pets moaning in concert.

"Now slide right in there, Peter." He lined his own prick up with Peter's hole, moaning, needing and
wanting.

Peter moaned and Paul arched, begging for it.

Peter's cock pushed in and Peter jerked, a sharp cry piercing the air. "Paul!"

"Yes, Petey. Yes."

He pushed into Peter, moaning and enjoying the way he was pulled in. A small voice at the back of
his head murmured that this was the first time Peter had fucked Paul, but he dismissed it and
concentrated on the amazing sensations.

A harmony of low, desperate sounds were filling the air, Peter moaning furiously between them. He
had one hand on Peter's hip, one on Paul's, holding both his boys. His Pretties. Peter jerked,
squeezing his cock tight, Paul moaning low.

"Soon my Pretties, soon. All together."

His boys moaned, the rhythm speeding faster and faster. He moaned loudly, slamming in hard.
Screams filled the air, low and sweet, together. Peter's ass clamped down hard on his cock, pulling
him over with them.

They collapsed onto the floor, Paul turning almost immediately to gather Peter into his arms,
whispering into his lips. He collapsed with them, keeping his weight off his boys with his arms. Paul
was rocking Peter, humming and kissing, petting.

He nuzzled Peter and then Paul and then settled on his side next to them. "Mmm... thank you, that
was lovely."

Paul nodded, holding Peter tight, almost protectively. "It was. So good. So good."

"You all right, Peter?" he asked softly.

Peter nodded, curling closer to Paul, cuddling. Paul reached out and pulled him closer, sandwiching
Peter between them.

"Mmmm..." He hummed and settled close, arm thrown over both of them, hand resting on Paul's
hip.

Peter relaxed, snoring softly, Paul smiling over at him. He smiled back, relaxing. It had been a hard,
long morning. He was sure there would be many more like it.

But it was worth it. This was worth it.

Chapter Seven

Paul finished cleaning the ink pots, headphones on loud as they went.

Man, the whole day had sucked. Sucked.

Like a torarian gelt eater during the swarms.

Peter was... cranky.

Like really and truly evil bitchy cranky.

One of the tops had brought down a little sub to get his cock pierced and the kid was crying and
sobbing and Peter wouldn't do it -- even when the top pointed out the sub hadn't safeworded. Then
the yelling started and man, Petey was quiet, but when the real screaming started?

Damn.

So security came and the top left with the crying sub and then Mal came and there was more yelling
and a little bit of throwing things and Mal threatening to go to Bowie and that really pissed Petey off
and the whole piercing shop closed.

He'd gone in once and Petey had thrown a bunch of rings at him, so he left Peter in there.

They really weren't good together in a snit.

Really.

Still...

It was almost time to go home.

He took off his headphones and walked over to the door. "Petey? Time to go home."

"N...n...no. G...g...go away."

"Oh, come on. I'll order fruit for you."

"No!"

Okay, then. "Fine. Starve. Moody bitch."

The door flew open, a box of gauze bouncing off his head. "F...f...fuck you!"

Yep. Testy.

"Well, for once you're not the one pulling the tantrum." Bowie's voice was dry.

He stuck his tongue out at Bowie and rolled his eyes. "He's in a bad mood. How're you?"

Come on, Bowie. He'd been good all day. Really good. Even-tempered. Not involved.

Good.

"I was good until I had a comm conversation with Mal. Said something about taming my boys or he'd
do it for me. I might have been rude to him in reply -- he got my back up. You boys are mine."

Bowie went and sat on the inking chair. "You want to tell me what's going on?"

Paul went and sat on his stool. "He's pissy, mainly. Some top -- a new guy, I don't know him --
brought a wee bottom in and the kid was freaking. Petey wouldn't pierce him, even though the wee
one didn't safe word. They -- Petey and the top -- started screaming. Security came. Then Mal came.
Then more screaming and the throwing of things." Paul shrugged. "Sometimes Petey just... doesn't
cope so good. I'd've taken him home but I had appointments all day. Working, you know? Good
stuff, too."

Bowie got up and came over to give him a soft kiss. "All right then, let's go see if he's willing to come
home with us, shall we?"

Bowie didn't wait for his reply, just went to the door and knocked softly. "It's Bowie. Time to come
out now, Peter."

"N...n...no."

Paul sighed. "Don't open the door, he's running out of soft stuff to throw..."

"Peter, come home with us -- I don't like the thought of leaving you here overnight. You can sulk at
home." Bowie turned and grinned at him. "Or at least try to."

Paul grinned back, wincing as the door slammed open.

"N...n....n...n...n...not sulking!"

Bowie's eyebrows shot up, but he answered Peter calmly. "No? Then what are you doing?"

"B...b...b...b...b...b...b...b..." Petey screamed, frustration clear. "Being mad!"

"And what are you taking your anger out on?" Bowie asked, trying to peer beyond Peter's shoulder
into the room.

Peter screamed again, stomping his feet. Paul felt himself tense, the urge to yell back, to scream
back and tell Peter to stop, huge.

"I see. Yourself." Bowie shook his head. "We're going home where we can deal with this properly.
Come along now, Peter."

"No. No. No. No. No!" Peter was red-faced, crying, shaking.

"Petey! Stop!" He went over, shook his twin. He hated this part. "Stop!"

"Stop, Paul. Stop." Bowie came over and wrapped an arm around Peter, pulling his brother in against
the solid chest. "Okay, Peter, okay. It's time to calm down now."

Peter struggled for a minute or two, crying hard, sobbing against Bowie's chest. Paul paced, fretting.
"He won't calm down. He won't." And why did he get punished for a tantrum while Peter got hugs?

"All right, enough. Paul, go see if the hall is empty."

Paul looked over and nodded. "Okay, Bowie." It felt good to let Bowie take control, to trust in that
sure voice.

He checked the hallway, the space quiet and empty, everyone gone home. "It's empty. Clear. You
want me to get the lift?"

"Please, I'll bring Peter out." Kicking and screaming if I have to. The words hung in the air between
them all, unspoken.

"Okay. Lock up, please?" He hurried out, letting Bowie do... whatever Bowie needed to do. He
pressed the button for the lift, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He wasn't in trouble. He wasn't.

Bowie came out, arm wrapped firmly around Peter, bringing his twin along whether Peter wanted to
come or not. Bowie only stopped to take Peter's palm and place it on the doorlock and then they
walked over to the elevator.

He met Bowie's eyes as the lift dinged, worried.

Bowie smiled at him, hand coming out to stroke his cheek. "Thank you, Paul."

The touch relaxed him, eased him and he smiled back. "You're welcome. Home, yes?"

"Yes, home." Bowie tilted his head. "I think we'll let Peter spend some time in my rooms, on his own.
A bit of soothing music, a quiet environment. Peter, you can be mad -- it's healthy. But acting like a
five year old? Is not."

"I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I...I'm not!" Man, Petey's voice echoed.

"No? It seems like it to me." Bowie was still hugging Peter, but his voice was cool, calm,
unemotional.

Paul watched, bouncing, nerves firing from Peter's upset. The lift moved quickly, opening onto their
floor. Bowie led them all to his plain apartment.

"We'll all sit for a bit and talk, see if we can't sort this out."

Paul nodded, Peter sniffling against Bowie's shoulder. Bowie led them to the sitting room, the cream
walls and tan furniture quiet, as Bowie had called them. He curled up in one of the soft tan chairs,
leaving the sofa for Peter and Bowie. See? He wasn't always selfish.

"Why are you so mad, Peter?" Bowie's voice was still calm, but there was a tone that said Bowie
wasn't going to brook anymore hysterics.

"I...I...I...I..." Peter slammed his fist into the couch. "I hate this!" The scream was loud, but clear.
Peter hardly ever stuttered when he was really mad.

"What do you hate?" Bowie asked.

"N...not b...b...being able to talk and that m...man was mean to me! And M...mal yelled at m...me!"
The words were furious, hurting his head.

"Bowie, make him stop!"

"He needs to get it out, Paul. At the moment the only way both of you do that is by yelling."

He groaned, sliding deeper in the chair, surprised when Peter turned on him.

"And y...you! You d...didn't help me. Y...you didn't s...say anything! Y...you let Mal yell at me!"

Paul sat up, glaring. "I was working!"

"S...s...s...so?"

"So? You started out being bitchy!"

"I did not!"

He frowned and nodded. "You did. You were mad this morning at breakfast. You were mad that I
ordered the wrong juice."

"You kn...n...now I hate that fl...flavor! You d...d...d...did it on purpose!"

"Stop yelling at me!"

"No!"

"Yes." Bowie's voice was quiet but sharp.

Peter turned to Bowie, shaking with anger, entire body trembling.

"Tell us why you're so angry. Don't yell, and don't blame your brother for the wrong juice. Tell us
what's wrong."

"I... I... I d...d...don't want to m...m...make anyone get p...pierced. I.... I'm t...t...t...tired of n....no
o...o...one listening to m...me! It m...m...made me m...m...m...mad that M...mal used y...you against
me."

Bowie nodded. "Yes, that upset me as well and I am going to have a talk with Mal."

Peter blinked. "I...it d...d...d...did?"

"Absolutely. He has no business in our private lives, as long as they don't interfere with club
business." Bowie shifted, turned to look right at Peter. "Whether or not you pierce anyone is up to
you. And any argument you have with management is between them and you. I will stand behind
you, but you and Mal need to deal with each other."

Peter nodded and then pointed over at him. "M...m...me and Pauly."

That eyebrow of Bowie's went up. It wasn't nearly so annoying when it wasn't raised at him. "I didn't
realize Paul had anything to do with the piercing side of things -- I thought that was your bailiwick."

Peter frowned, looked at him. "Th...th...th... It's ours."

Paul looked down. Bowie'd said that he didn't have to protect Peter all the time. Bowie'd said he
didn't have to do it all the time.

"Does Paul do piercing?"

"N...no."

"So if you won't pierce someone it's got nothing to do with Paul, so it would be between you and
management."

Peter shook his head, visibly pouting. "N...no. Me and P...paul."

"But Peter..." He looked over to Bowie for assistance.

"No." Peter moved across the room, grabbing his hands. "Y...you and

m...m...m...m...m...m..."

"You can't stand in his shadow forever, Peter. Paul loves you and will always support you just as I do,
in fact probably more, but you need to start facing people on your own."

Peter's eyes caught his, completely blocking out Bowie, staring at him. Needing him. Breaking his
heart.

"Peter. I know you think you need Paul to fight all your battles but you're forgetting one thing. Your
fight with Malachi this morning? You stood up to him on your own. You didn't even back down when
he threatened to bring me in. You did that, Peter. You. It's very impressive."

Peter blinked and Paul nodded. "You were amazing. I didn't help 'cause you were fine."

He winked. "Almost mean."

Peter blinked again, blushing dark. "M...m...m...m..."

He nodded. "Almost."

Bowie chuckled. "And Malachi isn't exactly known as a pushover."

Peter's eyes went wide, fury fading and shame taking its place -- just like always.

"O...o...o...oh. P...p...pauly. S...s...s...s...s..."

He pulled Peter into his arms and gave him a hard kiss. "You're okay. We're okay. Breathe."

Bowie came to kneel behind Peter, pressing them all together. "Everyone's okay, yes? You did a
good, strong thing today, Peter. And Paul stood back and let it happen. I am very proud of both of
you."

Peter curled up against him, holding on tight and he just hugged his twin tight, meeting Bowie's eyes
over Peter's shoulder.

Bowie smiled at him, green eyes full of pride and pleasure and it was directed at him.

At him.

He blushed and grinned, burying his face in Peter's shoulder, stomach fluttering.

Bowie's purr was soft, hand warm through his hair, on his neck. "I think you deserve a reward, Paul.
What would you like?"

"Me?" He blinked up, surprised. "Really?"

"Yes, Paul, you. You've been very mature today." Bowie grinned and winked. "I'd like to encourage
this behavior."

He stuck his tongue out, rolling his eyes and laughing along with Peter.

"I'll take whatever you think I deserve, Bowie." He met Bowie's eyes again, suddenly shy. It was
easier to be bad, almost. Less... open.

Bowie's eyebrow went up. "A chance to choose your own reward and you give it up? Are you sure
you're feeling all right, Paul?"

He recoiled a little inside, stung. He sucked at being good anyway. "Yeah. Let's go dancing or
swimming or something. Something less boring than sitting and bitching."

"You see -- it's a good thing you chose for yourself. I would have picked something more private."

He nodded and shrugged, sliding out from under Peter. "I'm going to go get a shower. I smell like
work."

Bowie frowned and stood, arms going across his chest, legs planted firmly on the ground.

"All right, what's wrong?"

He arched his eyebrows -- what was good for the twins was good for the top. "Wrong with who?"

"With you. You're not acting like yourself."

"What do you mean? I am, too. I'm being a brat. Just like me. I'll see you at latemeal." He tossed his
head, wishing for a minute that he hadn't cut his hair. It worked so much better with hair.

Bowie sighed and shook his head. "You know what, Paul? That's fine. Just go. You can both just go. I
need some time to meditate."

He nodded and slipped out the door, damned no matter what. He stopped at their flat for a
heartbeat, then headed to the lift. Fuck it. He was going to play. He went to the main floor and
waved to the doorman on his way out, the night sky lit up and sparkling, the whole city waiting for
someone who wasn't any fucking good at being good.

Chapter Eight

Weeks. Paul had been gone for weeks -- only two comms from him the whole time. One that first
night, saying not to worry, that he had Bowie now, that Paul wasn't good at being good and wasn't
going to try anymore. One a ten-day later, the little head shaved bald, Paul shivering on a public
comm, wishing him love and a happy birthday. Then a huge silence -- weeks and weeks of nothing
where his heart hurt and his belly hurt and he worried.

Then, finally, today, another comm, Paul looking thin and messy, black circles under his eyes. "Hey,
Petey. Been missing you. How's it going with Bowie?"

He shook his head, fingers frantically paging Bowie to come. "We m...m...miss you. Where are you?
Come h...h...home."

"I miss you, too. I'm around. Don't really have a permanent spot yet. Been working here and there.
What did you do for your birthday?"

"M...missed you. C...c...cried. Pauly. Pauly please. I w...w...want to see you."

"You are seeing me, love." Paul looked at the unit. "Don't cry, love. You're okay."

Bowie came around the corner from the kitchen. "Peter, is everything -- Paul!"

Paul nodded, hand sliding over his shaved head, then gave Bowie a little wave. He could see a long
bruise covering Paul's arm, leading up into the dark shirt. "Hey. I was just calling to see how you both
were."

Bowie growled low when the bruise came into sight. "Worried out of our minds. Come home, Paul."

"No reason to worry. I'm cool. Playing around. Trying to find a spot of my own, you know?" Someone
yelled and Paul's eyes closed for a second, before that bright, horrible, fake smile appeared. "I'm
going to have to go soon. My... ride's waiting for me. Miss you both, though. Lots."

He shuddered, tears filling his eyes. "Oh, d...don't g...go y...y...yet. N...not y...y...yet. You j...j...hust
c...called."

"I have to turn the stove off in the kitchen," Bowie said. "Please stay on the line while I do that. I'll be
right back. Please Paul, we've missed you so much." Bowie stepped away from the vid, pulling out
his personal commlink and speaking quickly and quietly into it.

"Oooh, what's for dinner, love? Fruit or noodles?"

Peter grinned and shrugged. "B...b...bowie's cooking. W...w...what d...did you h...have?"

"Oh, they've got all sorts of nutribars and stuff you can get. They're sort of gross, but they fill you up
for a couple of days." Paul gave him a smile, this one real. "You look tired, Petey. You should sleep
more. Tell Bowie to take better care of you."

"I w...w...want you to c...c...come and help, P...p...paul." More than anything. "I was screwing shit
up, love, you know it. I couldn't be good worth a damn and being bad just pissed everyone off. It's
better like this. Nobody cares if I'm a bitch out here."

"The only way you screwed shit up was by leaving, Paul." Bowie stepped up next to him, hand
reaching for his, holding it tightly. Bowie hadn't slept much since Paul had gone missing, had spent
most of his spare time looking for Paul. Bowie'd even hired a private investigator. "You can't run
away from things just because they aren't easy, Paul. The things worth having aren't easy. Please. I
promised you I had no intention of coming between you and Peter. Don't turn me into a liar, Paul.
Come home."

Another yell sounded and Paul looked worried. "I can't. I have to work. I owe somebody money from
last night. Wanna have coffee later? Maybe?"

"You have a job here. Come home tonight and I'll loan you the money. You can pay me back." Bowie
was growling, face fierce with the dark bags under his eyes and the tight lines around his mouth.
"Peter needs you. I need you."

"Do I still have a job there?" Peter could hear how badly Paul wanted to come home. "I made
arrangements with Malachi to bring in a trial replacement. If you're here and ready to start working
again before the man's three months are up, then yes, you can have your job back." Peter noticed
Bowie left out the fact that Paul was going to have to apologize to Mal and promise it wouldn't
happen again.

Bowie cleared his throat. "Paul. Come home. Please."

Another scream, this one closer and Paul nodded, quick and scared, skin paling. "As soon as I can.
Promise. I gotta go. I miss you both. So much."

"Paul! Bring them here -- we'll be waiting at the side entrance with money." Bowie barked the order
out, voice urgent.

Paul nodded and started to run, the comm going black. Peter reached out for the comm. "P...Pauly!"

He looked up at Bowie, shaking. "H...h...h...he's c...c...c...coming home?"

"I don't know, Pretty, I just don't know." Bowie wrapped strong arms around him and held him tight.
Bowie raised his personal comm unit up. "Jackson? Do you have him?"

"We've got him in sight, Sir, you want us to pick him up or follow him?"

"Follow him."

Bowie snapped the communit shut and kissed his forehead. "Come on, Peter. If he doesn't come
home, the priv-eyes will bring him home."

Peter nodded, his hand sliding into Bowie's. "H...h...he looked t....t...tired. Sc...sc...scared.
Sk...sk...skinny. I...I...I'm glad he c...called." He still wasn't sure why Paul had gone. He didn't
understand. He didn't care. He just wanted Paul home. Now.

"I am, too, Peter. We needed him to call to pinpoint his location. We sure as hell weren't having any
luck finding him just by trying."

Bowie strode over to the desk he'd added to the sitting room, taking a small briefcase out of the
back of one of the drawers. Bowie opened it, looked inside and shook his head. "I sure hope this is
enough. It would take days to trade in chips for more cash." Then Bowie held out his hand. "Let's go
see if he shows up, Pretty."

"H...he will. H...he p...p...p...promised."

They headed down to the side entrance, holding tight to each other. Paul would come. He would.

Bowie looked so angry as they slipped out the side doors and waited. Pacing, back and forth, Bowie
would growl every now and then, or come over and give him a hug and a kiss and tell him it would
be all right.

Paul hurtled out of the public transport, landing hard on the port, a pair of big men following behind,
shoving him with their feet. "You owe us for the transport, too, bitch. You'd better not be trying to
stiff us."

Bowie puffed up, chest barreled out, and scowled, heading toward them after giving him a quick
"stay put."

"You hurt him and you'll get a lot more than you bargained for," growled Bowie.

Paul sat up, wiping blood off his lip. "Not stiffing anybody. Not."

Peter fluttered, watching as the two men glared down at Bowie. "This piece of shit owes us thirty
half-chits. Said you'd pay us."

He stopped, blinked. Thirty half-chits? But that was nothing. Nothing. Less than they made in an
hour of working.

Bowie glared back, undaunted by the two men. "Thirty? What for? You wouldn't be trying to con us,
would you?"

"Filthy little whore crashed in our transport last night AND we gave him water this morning. He said
he'd pay us today." Paul shifted away from another kick as the man talked.

Bowie opened his briefcase and pulled out six old notes, handing them over. Peter had never seen
real money before.

"Now get lost before security shows up." Bowie had puffed back up.

The men nodded, laughing down at Paul. "You know where to find us if you need a place to stay."

Paul didn't respond, just nodded.

Bowie stepped between Paul and the men, not saying a word, just looking intimidating as anything.

The men got on the transport as Paul stood, stepping away from Bowie a little, shivering.

Those dark eyes looked over at him. "Hey, Petey."

"H...h...h...h...h..." He nodded, swallowing hard. "Hey."

Bowie's hand wrapped around Paul's arm, pulling him along, lips tight. "Inside, in case they change
their minds or someone else happens along. And we'd better use the staff lift -- you reek."

Paul nodded, so quiet, so sad, stumbling along beside Bowie.

"D...d...d...don't hurt him, B...b...bowie. H...he j...j...just got h...h...here." He didn't want to lose Paul
again.

Bowie gave him a startled look and the hand on Paul's arm loosened. "I'm sorry, Paul. I'm just
anxious to get us inside, together. Safe."

Paul nodded. "S'okay. I'm okay."

They went to the staff lift and Peter got the chance to just look. Paul was almost bald, wearing the
remnants of the pants he'd left in, the same shoes. The t-shirt was different, torn and stained,
fingers chewed. So not pretty. His poor Pauly.

Bowie was doing some assessing of his own.

"Shower first. Then food. Then sleep. Everything else can wait until morning."

Can... Are you going to let me sleep in bed with you?"

Bowie snorted. "You'll be lucky if we don't chain you there."

"Perv." The tease sounded almost normal and he reached out, twining their fingers together,
squeezing tight.

Bowie just grunted, jaw working hard, clenching and unclenching.

Paul looked over at Bowie, then at the floor. "I... I can go, Bowie. I don't want to make things bad. I
just wanted to... I mean, I missed... I mean, I just wanted to see you both."

He shook his head. "N...no. No. N...no g...g...going. No."

Bowie growled and grabbed the collar of Paul's t-shirt, slamming Paul up against the wall of the lift.
"If you run away again I will hunt you down and beat you to death. Don't you dare ever, ever do that
to us again. Ever."

Paul winced, a single tear sliding down the dirty cheek, throat working.

"Bowie!" He pushed in between Pauly and their lover, looking into Bowie's eyes. Bowie and Paul
never seemed to hear each other right. "No. N...no. H...he's hurt. N...no."

Bowie took a deep breath and nodded, kissing him softly and then turning the green eyes on Paul
again. "Promise you won't run away. I need to know you aren't going to run again, Paul. I can go if
that's what you need, but you belong here. With Peter."

"I don't want you to go. I never wanted you to go. I didn't mean to run away, not really."

Bowie sagged, letting Paul go. "Let's go home, boys."

The lift opened and they got out, moving silently down the hall. When they got in, Paul just kept
walking. "I'm going to get wet, okay?"

Peter nodded, taking Bowie's hand, holding him back. He picked up his comm and began to type.
"Are you going to be okay? He's so scared, Bowie. So sad."

Bowie gave him a soft smile and caressed his cheek and then sighed. "It'll be all right, Pretty. I just
needed to know he wasn't going to run again. I don't think I can do that again, you know?" Bowie
looked so tired, old.

"Do you want to go in alone? Welcome him home properly. I can..." Bowie looked around and then
shrugged. "I can go wait for you in bed."

He shook his head, typing furiously. "This is about all of us. Three of us, remember? You promised
me we would find him and be a family again. He needs us. He's scared. Please, Bowie. You need this,
too."

"I just don't want to upset him, Peter." Bowie stroked his cheek again and then nodded. "Come on
then, before he thinks we're going to let him get out of the shower without an orgasm or two."

"Tell Kestrel we need a couple of days off? Tell Kestrel Paul's home and hurt and we need time off."
He handed Bowie the communit and went and locked the door so no one could go without alerting
all of them.

Bowie nodded. "Look at you, Peter -- keeping us all together. You have no idea of the depth of your
strengths, do you?" He got a short, hard kiss and then Bowie was dialing up Kestrel.

He rolled his eyes and grinned, putting food in the warmer and grabbing a pitcher of juice. He just
was tired of his men not hearing each other. They heard him, didn't they? And he stuttered.

He heard Kestrel's happy cry. "Oh, good for you. I'll make arrangements. Do you need the doctor?"

"Thank you, I'll have to let you know, Kes. Once the grime's washed off."

Then Bowie was at his side, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the shower. The bathroom
was filled with steam, the water beating down on Paul, who was sitting in one corner, covered in
suds. Bowie quickly stripped them both and pulled him along into the shower.

Paul didn't look up, just kept washing. He reached down for the rag and the soap, kneeling down to
help.

His poor Pauly.

Bowie was quiet until he'd finished washing Paul and then the big hand wrapped around Paul's arms
and his brother was pulled up against Bowie's body, Bowie's mouth crashing down on Pauly's.

Paul stiffened, then reached for Bowie, holding on tight. There were fading bruises and marks
painting the thin back, ass, even Paul's thighs, but that didn't seem to stop Paul from pressing close,
crying out into Bowie's lips.

The kiss was wild and hard, stopping only when they broke apart, gasping hard for air.

"Bowie..." Paul held tight, shaking. "I'm sorry. Please. I wanted to come home so bad."

Bowie's solid arms wrapped around Paul, holding him close. "You should never have left. Never ever
ever ever believe that's what I want."

"I can't be who you want. I can't. I tried to be good, I did, and it didn't matter."

He just watched, tears sliding down his cheeks, needing them to hear each other so bad.

"That's not true -- I was so proud of you -- I offered you anything you wanted, Paul --anything."
Bowie shook his head. "I've been over that evening again and again since you left and I can't figure
out how it went wrong."

"It wasn't just that night. I was trying to be good, but it wasn't what you wanted. You just laughed.
Then being a brat wasn't what you wanted either because that made you mad."

Paul shook his head. "I walked and walked that night. I thought about you and Peter and how you
never once got mad at him, no matter what, and that's when I knew. It's not that you didn't want a
brat or a sub. It's that I'm not who you wanted. Peter is. Peter is gentle and quiet and good and you
love him and he loves you. I'm not necessary here." Paul pulled away. "I shouldn't have come home,
but I missed you."

"Not necessary?" Bowie gave a short, humorless bark of laughter. "I've seen myself in the mirror
recently, Paul. I have eyes and can see Peter -- we've been a wreck without you."

Bowie shook his head, leaning against the back wall with a sigh. "I see now where my main mistake
has been. I concentrated on Peter because I felt he needed me more, to bring him out of his shell
and build his confidence. And in doing so I neglected you. I'm so sorry, Paul, that the thought ever
even crossed your mind that you weren't needed. I can't speak for Peter, but I need you, Paul."

"Why?" Paul gave Bowie a long, quiet look. "What do I have that you even like, much less need?"

They were breaking his heart, but Peter stayed quiet, silent. Praying.

Praying hard.

"You mean aside from your beauty and your sexiness and the way that I have fallen in love with you?
I like your sass and your verve. You challenge me. You allow me to indulge my sadistic side. I need
that."

"Not beautiful anymore." Paul reached out, petting Bowie's arm, trembling. Oh. Oh, yes. Please.

Bowie's hand slid over Paul's scalp. "No? You are to me, Paul. And it has nothing to do with the color
of your skin or how much hair you have."

"I've been so scared, Bowie."

Peter nodded, agreeing. Yes. Yes. Him, too. All of them.

"Yes. You're home now though. Home. Where you belong."

Bowie reached out for him and Peter went, letting the strong arm hold him close with them.

He kissed Paul's cheek, fingers gentle on Paul's bruises. "P...p...p...p...promise.

St...st...st...stay."

Pauly nodded. "'kay Petey. You don't hate me?"

He shook his head. "N...n...n....need you."

Their lips came together and he didn't let go, not when the hot water chilled, not when Bowie
tucked them all together in bed, not when he finally -- finally after hearing both his lovers begin to
snore -- drifted into sleep. He wasn't letting go again.

***

Bowie slept long and hard, better than he had in months. Better than he had since Paul had left.

He slept with both of his boys, right like it hadn't been since Paul left. How could Paul not feel how
right they were all together? How could Paul believe that he didn't belong? How could he have failed
that badly?

Paul was back now and a stronger man might have backed out, left the twins to their precarious
balance, but he couldn't do it. He needed these boys. Both of them. That much was clear to him.

He wasn't sure anything else was.

Peter was curled around Paul, hands on the bald head, fingers moving and petting, even in sleep.
Paul was covered in fading bruises, plus a few new ones from the kicks the night before and his
wayward one had gotten as skinny as his twin.

He slid his hand over Paul's belly, fingers stroking, moving on ribs and hips that were too close to the
surface.

Paul jerked awake, eyes going wide and scared for a minute before they focused on him.

"Oh. Bowie."

"Oh, Paul." It broke his heart to see Paul scared.

"I missed you." Paul's hand reached out, cupped his face. "So bad."

He nuzzled into the touch. "You shouldn't have gone."

"I didn't intend to, but then, when I was, it seemed like the right thing to do."

"Never ever do that again. You'll break Peter's heart." And mine.

"Peter had you." Paul leaned towards him, eyes serious and dark. "I tried to be what you wanted me
to be, Bowie. I want you to love me so bad."

"Oh, Paul, don't you get it? I already do."

"I'm sorry." Tears welled up in Paul's eyes. "Will you be able to forgive me? I was so scared."

He held open his arms, needing to hold Paul. "You weren't the only one who was scared, Pretty."

Paul nodded, pushing into his arms and cuddling close. "I wanted to come home, so bad."

Peter frowned in his sleep, hands reaching for Paul. He reached past Paul, to pull Peter in, snuggling
Paul between them. Peter's eyes opened and he got a warm smile, Peter visibly eased now that they
were all together. His hand was taken in Peter's, placed on his Pretty's shorn scalp.

He massaged Paul's head, moaning softly. Paul relaxed against him, arms wrapping around and
holding tight. He continued to massage Paul's head, his other hand sliding over Peter's cheek. Peter
beamed at him, nuzzling into his touch and kissing his palm. So strong; his sensitive, quiet lover had
survived, grown without Paul there to protect him. What a flipflop. These two were almost too much
for him. He was strong and stubborn though, he would persevere.

Peter leaned to kiss Paul's head, Paul's nape. "H...h...hungry, Pauly?"

Paul shook his head, holding on tighter. "Just wanna rest, 'kay?"

"I think we can manage that, don't you, Peter?" Staying just where they were sounded good to him.

Peter nodded, eyes happy. "S...so long as we're h...home."

"Yes, all of us together." He pulled them all into a tight hug.

Peter climbed over, snuggling against his back, fingers pushing into his hair, the softest whisper
tickling his ear. "S'okay." He nodded, reaching back to pet Peter's thigh. The strongest of all of them;
all Peter'd needed perhaps was a reason to find that strength.

"L...love you. Love you b...both."

Paul nodded against his chest, tears sliding down.

"Sh. Sh. It'll be all right, Paul. You'll see."

"Promise?" Those pretty eyes looked up at him.

"I do, Paul." He kissed Paul and then kissed Peter, touching them both. "One day, when you are both
sure of me, you will wear my collars."

"B...both of us?" Peter rubbed against him, relaxed and warm.

"Really? You would want us? For always?" Paul rested against his shoulder.

"Both of you. For always." He sighed. "I cannot imagine going back to life without either of you."

"Tell us what they'll look like?" Paul's fingers traced designs and shapes on his skin.

"Impatient, Pet." He smiled, giving Paul a kiss. "They will be mirrors of each other. I've been working
with Mouse, designing them."

Paul laughed, the sound beautiful, happy, excited, filling empty spaces inside him.

Then those dark eyes gleamed up at him, dancing and teasing. "I bet Peep will show us, Petey."

He laughed; it felt good to have Paul teasing, pushing. "I bet he listens to Mouse better than you
listen to me."

Peter giggled. "I... I...I don't kn...now. P...P...Peep gets in m...more trouble than P...paulie."

"Really? That sweet little boy?" He'd been with the club a little over three months but the first few
weeks had been spent with the boys, the last ones spent looking for Paul, but anytime he'd seen
Mouse, Peep had been a quiet, sweet presence in the background.

His boys were laughing together now. "Don't tell Peep's secrets, Peter. Bowie likes him."

"M...mal only th...threatens to b...beat him twice a w...week."

"Three times. Remember when Peep flooded the training salle?"

"O...or l...lost M...mal's whip?"

"Or let a gramilian wildcat lose in the pool area?"

Bowie laughed, tickled. "You boys are pulling my leg."

They shook their heads together, Paul grabbing Peter's arm and showing a faint white scar.
"Wildcat."

"My goodness." He chuckled, bringing Peter's arm up and kissing the scar. It was always the little
quiet ones.

His boys leaned towards him, sharing a kiss, tongues pressing into his mouth. Moaning, he slid his
hands behind their heads, holding them in place as he let them in. Peace and laughter and relief
turned to passion in a heartbeat, two bodies pressing against him, against each other. He purred into
their mouths as the kiss went on and on.

Paul moaned, rocking against him, hard and hot. Groaning, he pushed Paul onto his back and started
to go down, tasting his pretty Pet's skin on his way to the unpierced cock. He wanted to taste, to
remember how Paul tasted different from Peter. Paul writhed, Peter taking long, slow kisses that

made Paul cry out, shiver. He licked each nipple, rediscovering what it was like to play with the small
bits of flesh without silver pierced through them. He tugged on them with his lips and bit them with
his teeth, soothing the hurts with his tongue.

Opening for him, Paul's body responded to the bites, low, needy cries beginning to sound.

He slid between Paul's legs, nibbling his way down along the too thin belly, biting each prominent
hipbone, chin bumping the heat of Paul's cock. He could smell Paul's need, mingling with Peter's,
with him, setting things to right.

He pulled Peter in close so their cocks were together and licked the tip of Peter's with its warm
metal ring and then Paul's, the taste pure. His Pets groaned in harmony, two sweet cocks jerking for
him, hands reaching down to touch him. He moaned, rubbing his cheeks against the heat of them
before reaching up to fondle the two ballsacs, one finger reaching back to tease Paul's guiche
piercing.

Bowie took in first one cock and then the other, sucking the heads in and squeezing as he came off.
Panting and rubbing, his twins held nothing back from him, just calling out for him, wanting him. One
after the other he sucked their pricks, again and again until he was dizzy from it.

Paul sat up, pulling away to turn and push that mouth along his belly, pierced tongue sliding along
his cock. "Bowie. Bowie, please."

Purring, he helped Peter shift as well, so they were all sucking. He sank down over Peter's cock,
sucking hard. They moved frantically, hips and asses and lips and they were all about need and
hunger and heat. Together.

He tugged on Paul's rings, his own cock throbbing in Paul's mouth every time Peter's throbbed in his
own. It was hot and necessary and wasn't going to last very long at all.

They came tumbling after each other, heat and come and need and passion filling their room. His
own cry was muffled by Peter's prick, his pretty Pets' cries also almost silent, yet he heard them in
his bones, in his blood.

His Pets cuddled close, humming and petting and stroking and holding him. Yes, this was what they'd
been missing, what they'd needed, to reconnect on the basest of levels. They couldn't hide in this,
couldn't pretend that any one of them was less necessary than another. One kiss became three
became ten became twenty, Peter pulling the covers over them, cocooning them together.

He thought maybe he should call Kes and tell him they all needed a week rather than a couple of
days. Let the sweet fluttery bird deal with Mal.

He had his boys and he wasn't planning to let go anytime soon.

***

He went back to sleep and then back to sleep again, getting up once to piss and brush his teeth and
then curl back in with Peter and Bowie.

He'd never been so cold, so lonely, so scared. He'd done some ink, some dancing, some begging.
Sucked a few guys off when he was really hungry. Let a mean bastard beat the shit out of him for
twenty half creds.

Paul was never leaving home again. Ever.

Ever.

He woke up again to Bowie covering his face with kisses, one of those solid hands sliding down his
side.

"Bowie..." He pressed closer, drinking in heat and strength.

"Mmmm, you remember," murmured Bowie, tongue sliding across his lips.

"Never forgot. Not even once." He opened easily, moaning into Bowie's lips.

"Neither did we." Bowie's tongue swept into his mouth, taking him, owning him.

Oh. Oh, yes. Yours. Please. Bowie. He arched, letting Bowie push the pain and cold out of him.

Bowie rolled them across the bed, winding up on top of him, weight heavy and good, the kiss going
on and on. His fingers tangled in Bowie's hair, holding him tight, holding them together.

"Need you," growled Bowie, cock hard and hot against his skin.

"Yours. Bowie, please. Make me yours."

"You are mine." Bowie's hands slid down to his ass, spreading him wide as Bowie's thick cock nudged
at him, spreading hot drops against him.

He nodded, breath coming faster, aching. "Don't let me go. Need you. Need you both."

"Mine." Bowie's word was little more than a growl and that thick prick pushed into him, claimed
him.

He nodded frantically, sobbing as Bowie spread him, the burn exactly what he needed to wipe the
last couple months away. Bowie pressed and pressed until he was filled completely, Bowie sealed
tight against him.

"Full. Full of you. Feel you everywhere." He twisted, hands gripping Bowie's shoulders.

"Yes." Bowie growled, the sound low, vibrating against him. Then Bowie started moving, pushing
into him over and over, cock sliding against his gland with every push.

Paul cried out, world spinning and tilting and dipping as pleasure filled him, the scent of Bowie's skin
heady. Bowie rolled him up onto his shoulders, slamming into him, taking him hard. He gasped, eyes
wide and watching, entire focus on his body, his pleasure.

Bowie's eyes held his, green and wild, demanding everything from him. He nodded, not hiding, not
protecting himself, too tired and needy and in love for that. "Love you. Bowie."

"Yes, Pet. Yes. Love you, Paul." Bowie's hand wrapped around his cock, pulling hard.

"Come for me, Paul. Show me."

"Bowie!" He screamed, head snapping back as his shot, heat splashing on his own skin.

"Yes!" Bowie shouted, slammed into him one more time and filled him deep with hot come.

Paul took a deep breath, trying to quiet his pounding heart, trying to find his center.

Bowie pulled out and slowly let him down, pulling him in and curling around him. Those big hands
slid over his back, traced his spine.

The tears started flowing and he gave them to Bowie, gave everything he'd been fighting and fearing
for months. Years. Bowie just held him, hands moving over him.

By the time the tears faded, he felt empty, quiet, still. "I love you. Let me stay home. I want to be a
family."

"We are a family, Paul. You just need to believe it." Bowie held him tight, almost too tight. "Just try
to leave again."

"Tell me you won't let me." He buried his face in Bowie's neck.

"I won't let you," growled Bowie. "I won't let you do that to me. To Peter. To you."

"I won't go. I won't. I... I was so scared, so hungry. It wasn't right, Bowie." None of it.

"No it wasn't." Bowie growled, hands petting. "I'm sorry."

"I am, too. I thought you and Peter would be happier. Thought I could get into trouble and play and
it didn't work."

"It's no fun getting into trouble if there's no one to reel you in."

He nodded. "It's no fun doing anything when nobody cares about you, when you don't get to love
anybody."

Bowie kept petting him, keeping him close, warm. "You don't leave again. You get to love me and
Peter until the end of time, Paul."

"I will. I promise. Next time I get hurt, I won't go." Even if he wanted to.

"And I will listen better, hmm? I see you, never doubt that. But I will try to hear you as well."

He stroked Bowie's hair. "Thank you. I love you. It scares me, how important you are to me, to us."

"I know. It scares me, too, Paul. It is always scary to put your heart on the line."

Yeah. Yeah, it was. "Still, we're a family now. So, not so scary."

"I'll put a rush on those collars."

He chuckled, holding on tight. "Where's Peter?" He blushed dark. "I should have asked sooner."

"Working. Mal's a bit... tetchy."

He winced and looked down, ashamed. "Yeah. I'll go apologize and offer to be the newbies' whipping
boy for a few weeks on the main floor."

Bowie growled. "You'll apologize, you'll beg for your job back, but nobody touches you but me and
Peter."

Paul blinked, eyes meeting Bowie's, cock jerking a little. "Oh. Oh, okay. Nobody?"

"Not without my permission." Bowie's smile was fierce. "I can't imagine any situation where I'd give
it."

He nodded, fingers tracing Bowie's lips. "Good. I never want to wear another man's marks again."

Bowie's fingers found a fading bruise, a rumble building. "You won't."

He pressed into Bowie's touch, imagining that Bowie's fingers erased the stranger's touch.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." Bowie grinned and winked at him, nipped at his nose. "Come on, Paul. Let's go
bring Peter lunch."

Paul nodded, stomach growling. "Yeah. Yeah, I bet he's hungry."

Bowie chuckled. "I am, too. We'll find some meat for us and bring him an apple."

Bowie got out of bed, smile playing around his lips. "Maybe we can find him some cream, too."

He nodded, heading into the bathroom to make up his face. Home. He was home. And he was never
leaving again.

Chapter Nine

Paul had apologized to both Mal and Hercules, and Kestrel had done his magic and they had a week
off. Together. To play and heal and find their centers again.

Peter couldn't decide whether he felt sorry for Paul or not. Somehow he imagined that once Bowie
stopped being scared, Paul's ass was in real trouble.

He wandered out of the bathroom, dressed in loose pants, watching Paul look into the mirror, hands
moving over the black stubble that was growing in.

"It's ugly."

Peter shrugged. "It w...w...will g...grow."

Paul nodded. "Should I shave it again?"

"L...l...let Bowie decide."

Their eyes met, then Paul moved across the room, snuggling against him.

"Well, that's a picture." Bowie came in from the bedroom, dressed simply in a long shirt that was
almost a dress. "How long can I expect this peace to last?" Bowie winked at them, coming to wrap
his arms around them, giving first Paul and then him a kiss to the forehead.

"Twenty seconds at least." Paul winked back, smiling over at Bowie.

"Ah, bliss."

They each got another kiss and then Bowie stepped back, head tilted to one side as he regarded
them. "I think this brotherly love and peace deserves a reward -- some positive reinforcement."

They tilted their heads, looking over at Bowie. Paul grinned. "Reinforcement?"

Bowie nodded, a slow smile growing. "You know -- I paddle your ass when you're bad, I tie you up
and fuck you when you're good -- positive reinforcement."

"Oh. That sounds... positive, yeah, Petey?"

He nodded, grinning, hand on Paul's waist. Very positive.

Bowie purred. "Excellent. I want you both to go find a plug for each other -- no consultation, get the
one you think your brother will like the best. I'll get my leather bindings."

He pinked, but nodded, both he and Paul moving down the hall, Paul goosing him and making him
squeak and laugh.

"Focus, boys." The rebuke was gentle, Bowie's voice full of good humor.

They smiled at each other, fingers twining together and squeezing. So good, to be together, to be
here with Bowie and okay.

He found a plug for Paul that started little, but had a control that made it grow, made it heat up,
made it vibrate. He didn't see what Paul chose, he was so busy hiding it. Damn.

"The playroom is in shambles," Bowie told them as they came back in. "Let's do this in the
bedroom."

Paul grinned over at Bowie, eyes dancing. "I didn't do it."

Bowie chuckled and winked. "No, you haven't been home long enough. The workers were in to work
on it just before you left, they tore it down to bare walls, but my intention had been to have the
three of us design it together..."

Paul nodded, face going somber. "And now? Do I still get to help?"

"Well, I didn't go forward with it once you left. I couldn't." For a moment the pain of Paul's
disappearance was etched on Bowie's face before their lover winked and smiled.

"I'm sure you'll earn it."

Paul nodded, pushing into Bowie's arms for a hug. The solid arms wrapped around Paul, holding him
close. One of Bowie's hands slid over Paul's head in a gentle caress.

Then Paul was released. "Come on, boys. It's playtime."

Paul nodded and it felt so good. So good to see Paul strong enough to...

To...

Peter stopped, thinking about it for a second. Strong enough to be weak? That didn't make a bit of
sense. But that's what it felt like, what it looked like.

"First things first. Stripping." Bowie pulled his shirt over his head, winked at them and tossed it in a
corner. Their lover was already more than half hard, obviously eager for them.

He giggled, shimmying out of his pants as Paul pulled off sweater and pants, neither of them playing,
just as eager as Bowie to begin.

"Second things second," murmured Bowie, climbing onto the bed on his knees. "Kissing. Lots of it."

Paul took Bowie's left; he took the right, both kissing shoulders and neck and jaw and cheek.

Bowie purred for them, the sound happy and good, right. "Lips, my Pretties. I want to kiss, too."

They moved together and it was so sweet. So good. So sexy to taste Bowie and Paul together. They
kissed until they were all breathing heavily, bodies starting to rub together.

"Third things third," whispered Bowie. "I stretch you both. Get you ready for your plugs."

His moan sounded a breath before Paul's; Paul's body shuddered before his did.

Bowie groaned. "Hands and knees, Pretties. Side by side."

They moved together on the bed, snuggling together, sharing long, lazy kisses.

Paul gasped into his mouth about the same time Bowie's finger slid into his body and he looked back
to see Bowie preparing them both, eyes intent.

"Oh..." He looked back at Paul, who was moaning, lips parted. Beautiful.

"My lovely, lovely Pets," murmured Bowie, one finger becoming two, stretching him.

He leaned, moaning as Paul's tongue touched his, the dark eyes huge and needy without the
screamingly bright hair to distract from them. A kiss landed on the small of his back, Bowie licking as
a third finger pushed into him. He shifted, thighs parting as his breath grew deeper, the stretch a
dull, rich burn in his belly.

Bowie fucked them with his fingers and then slid in a fourth for just a moment before pulling away.
"All right. Let's see what you chose for each other." Bowie's voice was thick, husky.

Bowie chuckled softly, a cool, heavy plug sliding off his hip. Paul smiled at him. "It's the heavy one,
the big one. I remember how you looked, spread wide on Bowie’s hand. You loved it, Petey."

He shivered, gasping, lapping Paul's lips.

"You looked amazing," Bowie agreed. "You're going to look amazing now."

"I... I... Yes." He cried out, thighs parting further, Paul's eyes burning for him.

Bowie placed another kiss on the small of his back and then the cool, slick tip of the plug nudged his
hole. He shook, groaning as the hard plug spread him, so heavy, so huge.

Paul's fingers twined with his, holding on tight.

Bowie moaned as the plug slid in. "Perfect."

He shook, gasping. "H...heavy. I...I can f...feel it. S...so heavy."

Bowie's fingers slid over his skin, gentling him. "Easy, Peter. You were made for this."

Paul nuzzled him and that touch combined with Bowie's eased him, relaxed him, heated him and left
him needing.

Bowie moaned again. "Yes, Pretty, yes. Now show us what you've brought for Paul."

He handed over the plug and controller. "Y...you can t...tease h...him."

Bowie chuckled. "Oh yes, he knows you well, doesn't he, Paul?"

Paul nodded, giving him a grin. "He does. He does."

Bowie grinned, handing him the controller before slowly working the plug into Paul. Paul hummed as
it slid in, body taking it easily, eagerly.

"Oh, beautiful. Perfect. My pretty Pets, all filled for me." Bowie nudged his plug. "Play with the
controls a little, Peter."

"Oh. O...okay." He turned the vibrating one, twisting it to high and then slowly bringing it down,
listening to Paul's low moan.

"You like that Paul? Like what Peter is doing to you?"

"Yes. Oh, please. Yes. More, Petey..."

He glanced up at Bowie, eyes questioning, fingers turning the vibrations up again. Bowie mouthed
"bigger", hands making an expanding motion. He pressed the button, and Paul's head fell forward,
Paul crying out.

Oh, this was fun.

Bowie’s hand slid along his back, every now and then jostling the plug inside him. He kept playing,
watching Paul writhe and whimper, sweat making his twin shine.

"Okay, Peter. I don't want him coming yet, and neither of you are bound." Bowie took the controls
from him, turning the vibrations to low, but not off, and leaving the size about halfway.

Paul relaxed, panting, eyes rolling. "Oh. Oh, Peter."

He reached out, patted Paul's hand.

Bowie chuckled. "Now it's my turn for some fun."

Bowie reached down beside the bed and came up with two handfuls of leather. "Face me, Pretties."

They turned, both setting their butts carefully on the bed, thighs parted. Bowie bent and kissed
them each in turn, his hands sliding over their skin. They spread, legs and fingers tangling together.
The scent of the three of them was strong, rich. Bowie's hands were strong and sure on his cock, the
leather sliding around his balls and winding up his cock, tight without hurting. He spread wider, hips
bucking, which jostled the plug and made him shudder. Bowie kissed the tip of his cock, hands
moving over his thighs.

"B...bowie..." He leaned his head back, moaning.

"Mmm... so pretty." Bowie's hands slid away and moved to bind Paul's cock.

Paul was relaxed, happy, so hard and wanton, moving under Bowie's touch. Bowie massaged Paul
and then him and then Paul again, the large hands shared between them both. In turn, they reached
for Bowie, hands sliding over their lover's skin, the heavy cock, the strong thighs.

Bowie purred, settling between them. "Love me with your mouths, Pretties."

"Forever." Paul's voice was hoarse as they floated over and around Bowie. Peter licked a path along
Bowie's ribs, Paul nuzzled the heavy balls, a happy sound filling the air. "Oh yes, so good." Bowie
moved beneath their mouths, hands sliding over them, touching, connecting them all.

He lapped at the tip of Bowie's cock, Paul's eyes shining up at him, so happy.

Bowie moaned. "Yes. More."

He took Bowie's shaft in, Paul's lips surrounding one testicle.

"Oh! Oh, Pretties!" Bowie's hands wrapped around his ass, holding on, fingers digging in.

Something inside him healed, eased, the sound of their pleasure, their happiness, their fun, too long
missed.

"Oh, my Pretties, coming soon. So soon." Bowie's low words filled the air, moans vibrating with
need.

He groaned, lips sinking deep, Paul's hand stroking his face. So good. Their center. Their love.

Bowie's hand wrapped around his head, holding him where he was as Bowie pumped up into his
mouth. He could feel Bowie's cock grow harder, knew his lover was about to come a moment before
hot seed splashed down the back of his throat. Bowie's cry filled the room, the sound happy, full. He
swallowed hard, drinking Bowie down, Paul humming with pleasure beside him, their bodies
writhing together. Bowie purred, body quieting, hands stroking along his skin and Paul's. Peter let
Bowie's cock slide free, mouth open for Paul's hungry kisses.

Bowie's sounds got louder. "Oh yes, my Pretties, show me how much you want each other. Make
love for me."

Paul's hands tangled in his hair, and his own wrapped around Paul's body, tugging him closer. They
needed. Bowie's hands moved over them, stroking and caressing, adding to their excitement.

He knew the moment Bowie began to play with the settings on the plug inside Paul. Paul jerked,
eyes going wide, tongue fucking his mouth as if starving. He dared to slide his hands down, stroke
Paul's ass. Bowie's chuckle was his only warning before the plug inside him was jostled, moving hard
inside him.

He spread, head falling back with a soft cry. "Ch...cheating!"

Bowie only laughed softly, the plug once again sliding inside him.

Their legs tangled together and they rubbed, bodies jerking apart as the leather straps

caught their pubes, tugged their curls. "Have... have to shave you, Petey..."

He laughed, the sound husky, breathy. "U...up to B...bowie. T...told you."

Another soft laugh sounded, Bowie's hands sliding down to tangle in the offending curls.

"I would like to watch you shave each other."

Bowie did something with the knots in the leather and suddenly the bindings slid away, snaking over
his balls and away from his prick. Paul's cock was also freed. "Fly for me, my Pretties."

"Oh..." Paul pushed into him, pulling him into another kiss, so needy, so sweet and he was flying,
crying out his pleasure into Paul's mouth as his body squeezed the plug inside him.

Before he was finished coming, Bowie pulled the plug halfway out and then plunged it back in again,
the motion repeated two more times. His world tilted, cock throbbing as it pushed the last bit of
seed from him. "B...bowie!"

"Yes, Peter." Bowie kissed him, the plug sliding from him, even as Paul cried out.

Heat splashed against his belly, and his lips wrapped around Bowie's tongue, sucking as the
aftershocks moved through him. Bowie groaned, hand sliding over his back, pulling him against
Bowie and Paul's warmth. Paul's taste joined their kiss, the three of them in a tangle of limbs.

Bowie's purrs and touches brought him down, soothed him. "My Pretties, so good. A short rest first
and then we'll eat. I wish to be fed from your mouths."

"Mmm..." Paul's moan was low, pleased, the blanket covering them soft and warm. "Love you."

Peter smiled up at Bowie, knowing the soft words were for both of them. Bowie smiled at him, green
eyes happy, peaceful.

He was given another kiss, then Bowie kissed Paul and closed his eyes, arms holding them close. "My
Pretties."

He nodded happily, fingers twining with Paul's. "Y...yours."

***

Bowie sat in the sitting room in the middle of a pile of cushions he'd arranged for them to sit on.

The twins were in the kitchen, each preparing their favorite foods to share with him and each other.
He could hear their soft voices arguing good-naturedly, could hear the soft laughter and occasional
wet kisses accompanied by wet moans. He smiled. Their happiness fueled his own.

His stomach rumbled loudly and he chuckled and called out to them. "You'd better hurry -- there's
no telling what you'll find if you do not feed me soon."

Peter came out with a huge bowl of noodles and fresh fruit and the lobster salad on crisps that he'd
gotten his sweet Pet addicted to. Paul's platter was simpler -- chunks of roasted meats and potatoes,
bowls filled with dark sweet confections.

His mouth watered. He truly was hungry and he imagined that the food would taste that much
better from his Pretties' mouths. "Come and sit. Feed me and each other."

The boys sat close, one on either side, bright-eyed and laughing. Peter found a grape, held it up to
his lips with careful fingers.

He shook his head, smiling as he licked Peter's finger but did not take the grape. "I would be fed
from your mouth."

"O...oh." Peter looked at Paul and Paul smiled, pulling the grape from Peter's fingers.

"Like this, love."

Then Paul took the grape in those white teeth, bringing his Pretties’ lips together. Bowie hummed as
they kissed, the grape crushed between them, and hunger of another kind making itself known. Paul
moaned, hand petting Peter’s belly, tongue pressing the grape into his lips, juice sliding over their
chins.

Smiling, needing and hungry, Bowie leaned forward and licked the juice from their chins.

"O...oh. I...I...I get it." Peter grinned and picked up a cracker, carefully holding it for him. Smiling, he
brought his mouth to Peter's and bit into the cracker. Their lips slid together and he licked the
crumbs from Peter's lips. Peter pinked prettily, but followed his tongue, eager, wanton.

"My turn." Paul held up a roasted bit of meat.

He took Paul's chin in his hand and met Paul's lips, stealing a soft kiss as he took most of the meat.

"Now each other again."

Peter picked up a long noodle with a questioning look, laughing as Paul snapped up one end, both of
them eating until their lips met in the middle. His own laughter joined theirs before he gently
separated them and demanded to be fed again. They ate until everything had been tasted, until one
hunger was sated.

"I've had my fill of food, Pets, but I'm still hungry."

Paul's eyes twinkled, mischief back on that beloved face. "Hungry for what, Bowie?"

"Cheeky brat. For the two of you of course." He reached around and swatted Paul's ass.

Paul gasped, cheeks and belly flushed, bottom lip caught between those teeth.

"Mmm, so pretty." He grabbed Paul's ass and pulled his Pet closer, bringing their mouths together.

Paul pushed into his arms, kiss bright and hot -- no languid lovemaking for his Paul. He gave as good
as he got, devouring Paul's mouth as he held his arm out for his other Pet.

Peter cuddled into them, soft and warm and yielding, the perfect foil for Paul's passion.

As the kiss with Paul ended, he pushed Paul's mouth to his throat, turning to take Peter's mouth
with his own.

Sharp little teeth scraped his throat as Peter opened for him, lips soft and warm, accepting his
tongue with a purr. He moaned, tongue sweeping through Peter's mouth. They were a gentle
rainstorm and a fierce storm, his pretty Pets, and they both moved against him, touched him,
needed him.

His hands slid over their skin, tracing tattoos and finding piercings. He would have to leave his own
marks on them, decorate them with his will, his desires. Paul straddled his thigh, Peter rubbed
against his side, two sets of hands explored him.

"Peter, I want you to fuck me. And Paul -- you will suck me." He liked turning them, letting them
explore the positions that were less common for them.

Paul moaned, immediately licking his way down Bowie's belly, unmarked ass swaying.

Peter whimpered softly, eyes flashing to his. "Y...you're s...sure?"

He kissed Peter and stroked the lovely cheeks. "Yes, my pretty. You will make me feel so good,
mmm?"

Paul's mouth left his body for a moment, dropping down on Peter's cock, slicking it and making Peter
gasp and shudder.

"Enough, Paul, that's for me."

Paul lifted his head, nodding and grinning, licking his lips. "Just slicking him up for you, boss."

Little shit.

"Last time I checked, we hadn't run out of lube, Brat."

He slid his hand over the shorn hair, deciding he wouldn't let Paul take supplements to make it grow
faster. Patience would serve Paul well.

Paul chuckled and pushed into his touch. "Your brat, Bowie. Yours."

"Yes, Paul. Mine." He growled the word, need pumping through his veins. "Don't make me wait,
Pretties."

Paul's mouth surrounded his cock, Peter moving more slowly, tentative, slick fingers gentle and
careful against his hole. He moaned, pushing into Paul's mouth and then back, encouraging Peter's
fingers.

It took forever, Peter sliding first one, then two deep inside him, stroking his gland. It was hard to be
patient with Paul's voracious mouth sucking at his cock, but he didn't hurry Peter, let his pretty Pet
find his own pace.

Paul's hips were rocking, thighs parted, one hand stroking that long cock in time with the strokes to
his own prick. He shook his head. Such an impatient brat.

He slid his hand over Paul's head again to get his pretty pet's attention. "Stop touching yourself,
Paul. You'll get your turn."

Paul moaned, eyes turned up to plead with him. The strokes stopped, though, his Pet obeying him.

Peter's cock nudged his hole, Peter cuddling close against his back, pressing in.

He stroked Paul's cheek, a moan coming from him. "Peter, yes. Oh, good."

Peter moaned softly, thrusting in deeper, purring for him, his Pets finding a rhythm, a pattern. Loving
him.

"Oh, Peter, yes, so deep my pretty Pet. Good. Paul. Harder, yes, just like that, oh, so good." He
moved with them, moaning, letting them know how good it was.

Heat filled him, the feel of Peter deep inside him, the sight of Paul pale and writhing for him
immense.

As he grew close he touched Paul's cheek again. "Touch yourself now, Paul. We should all come
together."

Paul's cry vibrated his cock, his pet's hand moving furiously, suction speeding in time.

"Yes! Come for me, my Pretties. Come for me!" His own orgasm shook him and he spilled into Paul's
mouth, ass tightening around Peter's cock. Heat filled him, the scent of Paul's seed sweet as the
hungry lips swallowed him down. He groaned as aftershocks made him shiver. Oh, they made him
feel good, his pretty boys.

Paul nuzzled his belly, Peter slipping out of him, a soft cloth sliding to clean him.

Such good boys.

He held his arms open for them. "Come lie with my, Pretties."

They filled his arms, his sweet boys snuggling close.

Mmmm... perfect.

Chapter Ten

Paul finished painting the playroom while Peter wandered in and out with boxes of this and that. The
room was a soft, peaceful violet with the furniture done in rich jewel tones -- different than Bowie's
playroom, but something they all could work in. Bowie'd suggested they turn one of the storage
rooms into a craft-type room, somewhere he and Petey could make as outrageous and odd as they
wanted and keep the door shut, keep it

theirs. He looked around, nodded. It was pretty and colorful without being nuts.

Bowie would be pleased.

Peter's arms wrapped around his waist, chin on his shoulder. "L...l...looks good."

"Yeah, Petey. It's nice. You think Bowie'll like it?"

"Y...yeah."

"I hope so."

They sort of stood together, snuggling a little, enjoying each other.

The front door opened and closed, Bowie whistling. He must have had a good morning with Mal in
the training salle teaching the house subs how to give massages.

Peter chuckled softly. "H...he sounds happy."

"Yeah, and we've been good all day, too." That boded well.

"Boys? My Pretties, where are you?"

"We've run away to join the circus!"

Peter giggled and hugged him tight. "N...no r...running away. I...in the p...p...playroom!"

Bowie's chuckle preceded him in and then it cut off. "Oh. Oh, this is lovely."

"P...paul p...p...p...p...p..."

He nodded, bumping Peter with his ass. "Spit it out, Petey."

"Painted it!"

"It's lovely, Paul. And who is responsible for the lovely tables and this…" Bowie went and sat in the
wide winged chair that would fit all three of them if they cuddled close.

"We picked the fabrics out together." Paul grinned over at his twin, nuzzling a little.

"Petey did all the cleaning and arranging of the cabinets and stuff. He worked hard."

Peter's eyes shone at him and he got a sweet kiss.

Bowie purred softly. "I do love it when my boys are working together." Bowie wiggled and shifted in
the chair. "Oh, this is perfect." The green eyes twinkled at them. "I have an idea."

"Uh-oh." He winked and Peter giggled. "Do we let you have those, Bowie-love?"

"Oh-ho, now you're asking for it." Bowie grinned over at them. "I was thinking a spanking and then
Peter could fuck your reddened ass, but if you don't let me have ideas..."

He shivered and Peter laughed, pushing them both over to Bowie for kisses and love. Bowie brought
them both down onto his lap, sharing kisses, one to each and then several with both of them
together.

"We're all far too overdressed for this. I want you to take care of that. Each other first and then me,
my Pretties."

Paul reached out for Peter's shirt buttons as Peter grabbed his shirt and tugged it from his pants,
their arms and hands getting tangled up as they laughed. Bowie's chuckles were warm, the solid
hands sliding over their skin as it was revealed. He got Peter undressed first, then started nuzzling
and kissing, teasing Peter playfully, enjoying the pleasure and happiness between them all.

"Don't get too distracted," Bowie murmured softly, hands still warm and firm -- it wasn’t a censure.

He hummed, turning to unfasten Bowie's soft shirt, nuzzling Bowie's throat as Peter slid his pants
away.

"Mmm, so pretty." Bowie's fingers turned his chin up, lips closed over his, warm, soft. Oh. Good.

He moaned, opening wide and diving into the kiss, fingers pushing Bowie's shirt open.

Bowie moaned, hands sliding down his back and finding his ass, squeezing. He pushed right into the
touch, hips rocking like a slut's.

Bowie chuckled, hands sliding away. "Somebody's eager."

"Me? No..." He grinned and blushed, leaning in to lick at Bowie's ear. "'s been a long time. I thought I
was going to have to be bad."

Bowie chuckled again, but the sound was husky and there was heat in Bowie's eyes.

"Assume the position, Paul. Cock between my legs and you may come if you want – but Peter is still
going to fuck you when I'm done."

"Oh..." Peter slid away, giving him room to stretch over Bowie's thighs, cock moving to rest between
them.

Bowie’s hand slid along his ass, solid, warm, sure, a promise. "Beautiful, is he not, Peter?"

"Y...yes. O...oh, yes." Peter's touch was lighter, gentle. "I..is he h...hard?"

Bowie groaned. "Oh, yes. Like steel fire between my legs. He's ready."

He moaned, shifting a little, rubbing. Yes. Ready. So ready.

He could hear Bowie and Peter kissing over his body and then Bowie's hand came down on his ass,
hard. Paul took a deep breath, lips parting as heat spread through his ass. Yes.

More. Love.

Bowie continued to spank him, not holding back at all. Bowie talked to him as well.

Usually a lecture, tonight Bowie told him how good he was being, how much Bowie appreciated it,
how he was seen. He was moaning, rocking and sliding between Bowie's thighs, burning and flying
and so proud.

"So good and so beautiful. My Pretty. One half of my heart." Bowie's hand hit his ass, the top of his
thighs.

"Oh! Oh, Bowie! Love!" His cries rang, echoed.

"I love you, Paul. My Pretty. With the beautiful skin." The next blow nudged the ring behind his balls
and he cried out, coming hard.

A last blow landed on his ass and then Bowie's hot-as-blazes hand rubbed his ass, Bowie purring. "So
beautiful. My Pretty."

"Yours. Bowie. Oh, oh, so hot." He was burning alive, panting, shaking.

"You are very hot." Bowie placed a kiss in the small of his back. "Now how can we arrange you so I
can still hold you while Peter fucks you, hmm?"

He heard Peter's low moan. "W...will it h...hurt him?"

Bowie reached around and grabbed his ass, squeezing. "It's going to hurt so good, isn't it, Paul?"

His head shot up, thighs parting, cock trying to firm again. "Oh!"

Bowie’s hands gentled. "You see? He's going to love it. Every time your hips hit his ass, he's going to
cry out, his cock is going to throb."

He relaxed against Bowie's legs, thighs parting, hips tilting and begging for it.

Peter moaned, one slender finger circling his hole.

Bowie's hands held him open, one palm hotter than the other against his ass.

"Oh. Oh, please. Don't tease, Petey. Don't. I need." He rocked against Bowie's hands, needing and
that finger just kept touching.

"He's been so good, Peter. Let him feel you."

The finger disappeared only to be replaced by Peter's cock -- hard and hot and deep and...

"Yes!"

Bowie purred. "Yes, my Pretties. Lovely."

Peter's thighs pressed against his ass, his skin burning, flaming. One of Bowie's hands slid around
past him to grab Peter, the other wrapped around his prick, tugging it insistently back to life.

"Oh. Oh. Oh. Bowie. Bowie. Peter. Oh." He was babbling and he could hear Peter's chuckle, Peter's
moan.

"So pretty, both of you." Bowie growled, so sexy, voice thick.

Peter pushed hard, fucking him hard and furious, making him fly.

"That's it. Yes. My beautiful boys." Bowie found Peter's rhythm and pulled at his cock in time.

He was calling out over and over, shuddering, so close, the burn and pleasure more than he could
bear.

"Come, Paul, let it happen." Bowie's whisper was sweet, soft, needy.

He came, entire body convulsing, Peter's heat filling him as the world went grey.

It was Bowie's hands that brought him back, solid and sure over his body. Paul moaned, cuddling.
"Love you."

Bowie kissed him and pulled him up, Peter sitting on the other side. "I like this chair, my Pretties. I
like this whole room."

Peter smiled, hand brushing over his ass. "I...it's u...u...us. A...all of us."

"Yes. It is indeed."

Bowie settled deeper into the seat, bringing them in for slow, lazy kisses. They cuddled in, his fingers
twined with Peter's, both of them just holding on. Loving.

The perfect beginning to the evening.

Chapter Eleven

Peter glared at the shop door.

The locked shop door.

It had been Peep that had commed him, quiet and careful in the middle of the night. Peep had asked
Paul to go down into the city with him to buy a present for Mouse and Paul had slipped out without
telling anyone. Then, something had happened -- some kind of fight or something -- and Paul had
sent Peep home and followed a little later and then? Paul'd locked himself in the shop -- said he was
okay, just a little tired and scared and wanting to be alone and not explain -- hello?

Alone?

Paul?

Right.

Just because he stuttered didn't mean he was stupid. "I...i...i...i'm gonna g...g...get B...b...b...bowie."

No answer. Damn it. "I...i'm s...serious!"

Peter commed Peep. "P...p...peep? Wh...wh...what happened out th...there?"

"I don't know, Peter, I swear." Peep sniffed, obviously crying. "This guy grabbed my bag and Paul
chased him and got my bag back and that's when the others showed up..." Peep's voice faded and
another sniff sounded.

"A...a...are you o...okay?" Damn. Damn. Damn.

Paul would be livid if he involved Bowie and caused troubles. Paul hadn't done anything wrong.

Really.

Mostly.

But.

But what if Paulie was hurt?

Sick?

Scared?

What if Paulie was dying?

"Paul told me to run. He told me to, Peter. I swear. I didn't want to go, but he said I had to. That he
knew these guys, knew how to handle them."

Peep sniffed again. "And then he came back, so I knew he was okay, right? I gotta go, Mouse is
upset."

"Oh. Oh. K...kay. I...i...i... have P...paul c...com l...l...l...l...l...l..." Before the last words were out, Peep
was gone.

Peter turned and banged on the door. "L...let me in!"

Paulie didn't answer, didn't open and Peter yelled again. "Paulie!"

The lift doors wafted open, seeming loud in the quiet hall. "Peter? Where's Paul? I wake and you've
both disappeared." Bowie was wearing nothing but his robe, a worried frown on his face.

"I...i...in there. L...locked in. H...he w...won't answer. Th...there w...was a f...f...f...fight,
P...p...p...p...p...peep said." He pushed into Bowie's arms, replaying Peep's comms so he wouldn't
have to explain again.

Bowie's arms were warm and comforting, one big hand stroking his back. "All right, let’s find out
what happened to our pretty Pet."

Bowie knocked firmly on the door. "Enough hiding. Let us in, Paul."

Nothing. Again. He turned worried eyes to Bowie. "I...i...is h...he okay? H...h...he w...w...w...w...won't
answer."

"You aren't in trouble, Paul -- Peep explained what happened, that you were just trying to help him.
But we don't know what happened after. Come on, now, you're worrying Peter."

Peter was about to holler again when the door slid open, a pale, naked, wet shaking Paul swaying
there, one eye black and a deep cut over his eyebrow. "S...sorry. Was in the shower. Just heard you."

Bowie growled, the sound pure animal and grabbed Paul, pulling his twin into the big arms next to
him. "What happened? Who did this to you? Where else are you hurt?"

Paul blinked at Bowie, swallowing hard before snuggling in. "Tried to hurt l'il Peep. I couldn't let
them. Peep's little. Just little."

Bowie growled again. "Yes and I'm sure Mouse would like to pay them back as well. He and I should
go prowling tomorrow evening..." Paul was given a soft kiss. "Where else were you hurt, beautiful
pet? What did they do to you?"

"My head is bleeding in the back and my wrist hurts where I fell." Paul shivered, dazed eyes meeting
his. "I took a shower and some locodin for the pain. I want to go home now."

"Yes, home. We'll get the doctor to make a housecall." Bowie rumbled and got them turned around
and headed for the lift. "Next time you come home first."

"I couldn't. I was bleeding and bleeding. We just got the new carpets."

Peter stopped short, staring at Paul. Carpets. Carpets.

Carpets?

"They're so pretty, Petey."

Bowie growled again, hustling them onto the lift and pressing the floor for one up. "We're going
straight to the doctor's, I'm worried about the hit you took to the back of your head -- you're not
rational."

"Huh?" Paul swayed a little, blinked slowly. "I don't know what you mean. I don't."

Bowie's frown deepened and he practically dragged them to Doc's quarters, banging on the door
with one solid fist.

Little Ghost opened the door almost immediately, mussed and ruffled, eyes wide. "I heard you.
You're angry. Very angry. You can't come in if you're angry at Trip, you're bigger than him."

Peter blinked. That was the most... real he'd ever seen Ghost.

Bowie shook his head. "I'm not angry. Well. Not at Doc. Someone hurt my Paul. Doc needs to look at
him; he was hit in the head, lots of blood and he's taking nonsense."

Bowie looked like he wanted to just push in past Ghost and Peter could feel the tension in the arms
around him.

"Oh. Okay. Okay. Come in." Ghost pulled them in, hands curling around Paul's. "Oh. Oh, don't worry.
Don't be scared. Trip will fix you."

Paul shook his head. "I want to go home."

"A...after the d...doc looks. Th...then we'll g...go sn...sn...snuggle."

"Peter's right, Paul. Let Doc check you out."

The man himself met them in the sitting room, hand stroking gently over Ghost's back as he joined
them around Paul. "What's the matter?"

"Paul's been hurt. Hit on the back of the head. He said there was a lot of blood."

"Well let's have a look, then." Doc's hands reached for Paul's head, thumb gentle over the bruised
eye.

Paul whimpered softly, wincing as Doc's fingers moved to the back of Pauly's head. "Ah, there's a
good-sized lump and a cut. Head wounds bleed a lot. He's going to have a wicked headache in the
morning."

"H...his wr...r...rist?"

Doc picked up Paul's wrist and manipulated it gently, fingers feeling for the bones.

Paul groaned, pushing back towards Bowie, shaking his head. Poor Pauly. Poor love.

Peter moved closer, petting the sweet, brave face. "Y...you're n...not a b...b...b...big man, P...pauly.
Y...you shouldn't f...fight."

"Bigger than Peep."

Doc shook his head. "You boys need to learn to stay away from the streets. Everything you need is
here at the club, where it's safe. I'd need an x-ray to be sure, but I think this is broken. Is there
anything else?"

Bowie looked pointedly at Paul. "All of it, Pretty. All of it."

Paul whimpered and Peter leaned over, looking, hand sliding down the flat belly, feeling the little
wince, the odd heat around Paul's navel. "H...h...here."

"It's sore. They kicked me. It's okay."

"I'll be the judge of that." Doc glanced over at Ghost. "Is that the extent of it?" he asked as he
started to poke and prod around the sore area.

Ghost tilted his head, eyes curious. "How can it be yes and no all at the same time?"

Paul gave Ghost a wide-eyed look. "What?"

"He can feel your emotions," Doc said calmly, as it if were the most natural thing in the world. "It's a
wonderful aid in examinations. Especially with a reluctant patient."

Bowie's arm tightened around him, free hand going to stroke Paul's cheek. "You'd better tell us
what's wrong so the Doc can fix it."

"My wrist hurts and my head. My belly only hurts when you touch it." Paul nuzzled into Bowie's
touch, eyes closing. Ghost leaned over and whispered into the doctor's ear, white hair messy and
fluffy.

He gave Bowie a questioning look. What was all this? Why couldn't they all go home? Bowie's hand
slid along his spine and he got a kiss on his forehead, the green eyes returning to Paul, worry and
care and so much love in them.

"You've had a belly injury before, Paul?" Doc asked.

"Uh... Sort of. Inside. I got hurt inside once, but it's all better." Paul didn't look at the doctor.

Or at Bowie.

Or him.

When? When had Paul been hurt?

"Who treated you?" Doc asked in the same even, calm voice as if it were perfectly normal.

Bowie had grown stiff beside him, angry and worried about their Paulie.

"Uh.... I... A friend gave me stuff 'til it stopped hurting and bleeding."

Peter blinked. "A f...f...f...f...f...f...f..."

Doc frowned. "I think I should do an ultrasound as well as an x-ray for this wrist – you can't go
around ignoring the pain your body is in, Paul. If you've hurt yourself you have to be treated. I don't
understand why you didn't come to me."

Ghost shook his head. "He couldn't. He wasn't here. He was somewhere... hungry."

Oh.

Oh, his Paulie.

Bowie sighed. "Paul, was this while you were... away?"

"I want to go home, Bowie." Paul cuddled in. "I'm sleepy."

"Can you give him something for the pain, Doc? I'll bring him in for the tests in the morning, if that's
safe." Bowie didn't look happy at all.

Doc nodded. "As long as you're just going home to sleep, I'll give him a light pain-killer. I want your
word, though, that if he's still hurting or starts hurting again before morning, you'll come banging on
my door again."

"You have it," growled Bowie.

Peter watched Ghost walk up to Bowie, look at their lover with icy blue eyes. "He's scared and so are
you. You shouldn't be. You love each other and Peter. I'm going to bed, Trip."

"I'll be there in a minute, Ghost." Doc pet Paul's arm gently. "I'll just get you something for the pain,
Ghost is right, you'll be all right."

Paul nodded. "I'm okay. Just sore. Just sore."

Doc injected Paul with a small needle. "Tomorrow. Nine a.m., Bowie. Or I'll have all your heads."

"We'll be there," growled Bowie.

Paul cuddled close and Peter nodded. "I...I...I set th...the alarm."

Mouse commed them on the way back to their rooms, wanting to know if Paul was okay, assuring
them Peep was as well and thanking Paul for taking care of the little thing. Peep could get in trouble
without even trying, something he had in common with Paul, except that Peep made Paul look like
an amateur. Paul leaned against him, talking randomly, stumbling over his own feet. "B...b...bowie?"

"No. No, Petey. I'm Paul."

"I think he was talking to me, Pretty. Yes, Peter?" Bowie palmed the door lock and ushered them in.

"H...he's b...b...b...b..."

"I am not!"

"Uh-huh!" Weird! Paul was being weird!

"No!"

Bowie growled. "Shut up for a moment, Paul -- you aren't supposed to interrupt your brother. Go
ahead, Peter."

"H...he's b...b...b...b...being w...w...weird."

"I am not!" Paul pulled away from his hold, promptly tripping over the coffee table and landing on a
pile on the floor.

Peter gave a short, sharp, frustrated scream, hands flying into the air.

Bowie growled. "Enough." Bowie went and picked up Paul. "Get me my ropes, Peter. Before he kills
himself."

He blinked at Bowie, but went. Ropes? Paul was hurt.

Weird.

Keeping secrets.

This whole thing was screwy.

By the time he had the ropes, Bowie had Paul in bed and was stroking him, speaking softly to him.

"Ah, good, Peter. Bring me the ropes, I'll bind him gently so he can't hurt himself." He got a
reassuring smile from his lover. "He's stoned on the pain killers. We'll keep him quiet and still until
morning."

"O...o...oh. Qu...quiet? O...our Paul?" He gave Bowie a grin, a wink.

Bowie chuckled, hand sliding along his side for a moment. "He'll be struck speechless by how
beautiful you and I look making love."

"Oh." He pushed into Bowie's arms, shivering, needing.

Bowie gave him a long, hard kiss. "Let me tie him up so he can watch in peace and I will love the
worries from you."

Peter nodded, although he wasn't sure that was possible. He had a lot of worries.

It didn't take Bowie long to bind Paul, nothing fancy, just holding him still, safe.

Bowie lingered to give Paul a kiss, lips brushing his twin's. "You're home now, Paul. Just float and
watch, sleep if you can."

"Mmm... 'kay. Kay, Bowie. Love you." Paul gave Bowie a silly smile, eyes already unfocused.

Bowie kissed Paul again and then turned to him, opening those strong arms to him. He pushed into
Bowie's arms with a worried moan, dragging his eyes away from Paul and the cut above the bruised
eye.

"We'll take care of him tomorrow, Peter. For tonight the most we can do for him is show him what
home is, hmmm?"

"H...he c...came home." Peter pressed closer, shivering. "M...make it b...better, B...bowie? B...been a
w...weird night."

Bowie purred and pulled him down, licking at his lips, hands pulling away his clothes. He pressed
closer, hands moving to push through Bowie's hair. His lover was tense, worried; he could feel it in
the strong muscles, see it in the bright eyes. He rubbed and stroked, trying to give as much as he was
given.

Bowie rolled onto his back, pulling him on top of the solid body, hands sliding down to grab his ass
and rub them together. He took one kiss, then another, pushing against Bowie's hands, wanting
more. He received kisses and moans in return, those hands working his ass and his back, massaging
and arousing together.

Every so often they would look over to Paul, who was already sleeping, face turned like he was
watching them. Bowie's body undulated beneath his, rubbing, sliding, building the arousal slowly,
making him need.

"Oh. Oh. B...bowie. L...l...love you." He hummed, moving faster.

"Yes, my pretty Pet, yes. I love you, too." Bowie licked his lips, fingers sliding to his crack, teasing
him.

He smiled against Bowie's mouth, moving slowly, rocking. Enjoying the touches. One of Bowie's
fingers slid over his nipple ring. He pushed into the touch, offering. Begging. "How can I pleasure you
tonight, Peter? I want to send you flying. I want to soar with you."

"R...ride you. W...want to f...feel you tomorrow." Want to feel you tomorrow when we deal with
Paul.

Bowie moaned for him, fingers pushing at his hole. "Yes."

"Y...yes. Yes. B...bowie." He spread, hips jerking, pushing towards the touch.

Bowie's fingers disappeared, only to push at his lips. "Slick them up for me, pretty Pet."

He hummed, mouth opening, sucking those fingers in deep, pulling hard. He could feel it in his balls,
a dull, deep ache.

"Sexy man," murmured Bowie, fingers sliding from his mouth and pushing behind his balls, sliding
wetly over his skin.

"Y...yours." He leaned back, thighs spread wide. "Please."

Two fingers pushed inside him, Bowie wasting no time now, stretching him. He nodded, moving
faster, harder, toes curling.

"So beautiful, pretty Pet, dancing on my fingers." Bowie pushed in hard and deep, the tips of his
fingers brushing Peter's gland. He jerked, body arching with the pleasure, hard cock slapping against
his belly.

Bowie purred, fingers pulling out suddenly, large hands hard on his hips. "Now, Peter."

"Y...yes." He moved, straddled Bowie's cock and took the hard flesh deep. In no time, he started
riding, head thrown back, uninhibited.

Bowie's purrs turned to growls, the hands on his hips tightening, helping bring him down hard, even
as Bowie's thigh muscles bunched under his ass, thrusting up into him.

Peter felt so sensual, so sexy, like he was special and beautiful and... "B...bowie..."

"Love you, pretty Pet." Bowie pushed up harder, fingers digging into his skin. Bowie's green eyes
were intent on him, watching closely, full of love.

"Love." He pushed down hard, ass rocking as Bowie's cock nudged his gland. "Oh!"

"Ah, there we go." Bowie shifted slightly and started pegging it with every thrust.

"Yes." He nodded, fighting to catch his breath, time stopping.

Bowie just kept thrusting, kept pulling him down, watching him, loving him, filling him.

It took forever. Seconds. Hours. Heartbeats. Then he was coming, body clenching tight around
Bowie's cock. Bowie roared, pushing up hard into him and filling him with heat. The hand on his cock
slowed, moving slickly up and down his skin, making him shake with aftershocks.

He slumped forward, eyes heavy, snuggling into Bowie. Bowie moaned for him, one hand sliding
along his back, the other grabbing the covers and pulling them up over him and Paul. "There we are,
my Pretties. All together and ready to sleep, yes?"

He nodded, exhausted, worn. "D...don't forget. N...nine a.m."

"Don't you worry about that, Peter. Don't you worry about anything." Bowie kissed his head. "That's
my job."

He met Bowie's eyes. "Y...you h...have a...a lot to worry a...about."

"Oh, pretty Pet, it is a joy to worry over you and Paul."

"H...he's going t...to be o...okay? Y...you'll h...help him?"

"He's going to be just fine, Peter. We'll all go see Doc tomorrow and he'll make sure everything's
checked out and taken care of. And then we'll get to the bottom of this injury he got earlier and we'll
discuss keeping secrets and I'll spank him until he comes and we'll all be just fine, Peter."

"Oh. O...okay." He settled in, curling into Bowie's arms. He trusted Bowie -- Bowie had understood
him from the first, but was learning Paul, learning the things Paul needed.

"We're fine, my pretty Pet. As fine as the skin of your cock."

He chuckled, blushed, then let himself relax, sleep.

Rest.

***

Bowie had his boys at the doctor promptly at nine a.m., Paul's eye a technicolor mess --no doubt
looking far worse than it actually was. He'd called in to Mal and let him know the boys would be
opening shop up late. His own duties weren't tied to a time -- there were plenty of able bodies to
open the massage room and take care of things if he didn't get in until later -- but Peter wouldn't be
any good for work while he was worrying over Paul.

Doc called them in and was ready to begin the tests right away.

Paul was upset, snappish, scared and sore, and climbed unwillingly onto the table, letting the Doc
start poking and prodding. He stayed close, petting Paul's head, encouraging his Pet's cooperation.

Ghost quietly brought over the machines to x-ray Paul's wrist and to ultrasound his side.

"I want to go home, Bowie." Paul's eyes were dark, unhappy, worried.

Peter fluttered, anxious. "S...s...soon."

"As soon as Doc has you fixed up, Pretty." He tried not to frown, but Paul was acting...well, Peter had
called it right: weird.

"This wrist is broken," Doc confirmed. "I'll knit it back together. You won't be able to use it for a day
or so and it'll be sore for a few more. And there's not much I can do for your kidney. It's been
bruised and will heal on its own, despite the prior injury. You have to have that kind of thing looked
at by a professional, Paul. It could have killed you or it could have healed worse than it did." Doc
shook his head.

Bowie nodded. "I will impress that upon him."

"When can I go back to work?"

"You can go today, but I don't want you using the wrist and you have to be careful of your side."

"You can keep your brother company," Bowie told Paul. "After we've talked."

"Talked?" Paul winced as the doctor ran the bone mender over the swollen wrist, then wrapped a
soft brace around it.

"Yes. Talked." He didn't say more. It wasn't any business of Doc and Ghost's. It was between the
three of them. He would get to the bottom of Paul's strange behavior.

He would not lose this one again.

Doc was finished fairly quickly and Paul got dressed, Peter helping with buttons.

"Thank you, Doc." Bowie shook the man's hand. "I owe you and your boy a massage."

He gave Doc a wink and took his boys home.

Paul and Peter were quiet, cuddled together, Paul holding Peter close.

As soon as they were home he put the boys on the couch and knelt on the floor in the middle of the
sitting room. "All right, Paul. What's going on?"

"What do you mean? I got in a fight." Paul leaned into Peter, cuddling.

"And saved Peep from a worse beating than you took, yes. You aren't in trouble. You're home, and
your injuries aren't terribly serious, but you've withdrawn and act like we're about to toss you out on
your ear, and I want to know what's going on in your head."

"You wouldn't toss me out. This is my place, too." Paul looked to Peter, hands twining and holding
tight. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Of course I'm not going to toss you out, but you're acting like I'm going to. Something's up, Paul. We
can both see that. I'm not a mind reader and last time I tried, that ended in disaster." He leaned
forward and took Paul's cheeks in his hands, kissing softly. "Talk to me, pretty Pet."

"I... It's hard, Bowie. Hard. Things were bad when I was gone, but I made it. I wanted to come home
and I did."

"I know. And things are going well, aren't they?" He petted Paul, treating him almost as he would
Peter.

Paul nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, Bowie. Things are good."

Peter's hands moved to slowly rub Paul's back, the touch gentle, sweet. So strong, learning so fast,
their Peter.

"Then you should trust me and tell me what's wrong. Is it about when you were hurt before?"

Paul nodded. "I don't want to talk about it, Bowie. It's over. I was hurt. I'm better. You'd never have
known."

"And you're upset now because I do know?" He still wasn't sure why Paul was upset about this. Was
Paul worried he'd be angry? Worried that he wouldn't be? How was he supposed to react? Aside
from wanting to go out and beat the men who touched his pretty Pet, he wasn't sure what his
reaction was.

"No. No. I was just scared. Scared that it was going to happen again. Scared it was going to hurt
again like before. Scared it was going to be bad." Paul shook his head, gave him a half-grin. "I was
just being a dork."

He growled. "I'll say you were. If you'd been up front in the first place, we'd have known

why you were worried." He glared at Paul. "And you might be bigger than Peep, but you're hardly
anyone's bodyguard. If I'd been with you this wouldn't have happened --there's power in numbers. I
won't lose you, Paul. Especially for no reason."

Paul nodded. "We weren't looking for trouble. Peep needed a birthday present for Mouse."

"I know, but it was late and the streets aren't safe during daylight, let alone the middle of the night.
You should have at least taken someone... tall with you."

He sighed and pulled Paul into his arms. "You've been very bad, Paul. I think Peter should suck you
off in punishment."

Paul chuckled, shook his head, gave Bowie a one-armed hug and a soft kiss. "I haven't been bad, just
silly."

"Is that what you're going to say when you're well and the punishment is a spanking?" he asked with
a wink.

Paul grinned and nodded. "Yep. I've given up being bad. I'm taking a page from Peter's book."

Peter chuckled, still touching, still petting.

He pouted. "Damn -- I'm going to lose my arm without you to spank."

Paul kissed his cheek and his pout and then pulled back, stretching tall. "We'll find you a naughty
little bottom, Bowie."

He gasped and then laughed, pinching Paul's ass. "I'm rather fond of the one I've got already!"

"This one's got to go to work." Paul gave him a grin and a wiggle. "I have to tattoo Staple today."

He raised an eyebrow. "Again?"

Paul nodded, but Peter frowned. "N...n...no."

"Yes, I do."

"N...n...no."

Paul rolled his eyes. "Yes."

Bowie put his hand briefly over Paul's mouth. "Why no, Peter?"

"B...b...b...bec...cause t...the d...d...d...doctor said h...he couldn't u...u...use h...h...h...his h...h...hand
a...a...a...and be...because I d...d...d...d...don't b...b...b...b...believe him!"

Paul turned to Peter, eyes wide and hurt. "Are you calling me a liar?"

Peter nodded. "Y...y...y...you left and k...k...k...k...k..."

"I came back, Petey. I said sorry."

"He wasn't finished, Paul. Continue, Peter."

He stroked both their backs, trying to calm them.

"H...h...he's k...k...k...k...keeping s...s...s...s...secrets!"

"I am not!"

"Th...then tell!" Peter was red-faced, angry.

"Tell what? I got fucked and beat up bad and hurt and torn up and my friends found me and cleaned
me up and I was real stoned and real sore and I'm fine now. Fine!"

Bowie sighed, stroking Paul's cheek sadly. "I wish you'd let us be there for you then. We were so
worried. And with good reason, it seems."

"I couldn't. I couldn't find my way here and Hercules doesn't let users work here. I'd have had to
leave." Paul shook his head. "I waited until I was all clean."

He took Paul's hand. "Promise me you will never run away again. Promise me and Peter you won't
cut us out."

"I already did. I already did say. I'm sorry I left. I hurt and hurt. I bled. I'm home. I'm fine. Stop."

"You started this all up again though, by keeping things from us. Peter was right enough about that."
He shook his head. "Enough now though. Peter, pretty Pet, do you still believe he's lying or can we
let it lie, make each other feel good and loved?"

Peter sighed, shrugged. "L...l...let it a...alone."

Paul nodded and leaned down to kiss Peter. "Good. Love you."

Peter hugged Paul's neck and nodded. "Y...yeah."

He nodded. "Good. Good." He gathered them both close, bringing their mouths altogether. They
cuddled into him, both needing him, needing his strength. He slid his fingers along their spines,
kissing them until they were all breathless.

"Shall I take you both in my mouth?" he asked, hands moving to cup their balls, slide over their
cocks. "Taste you together?"

"Oh..." Peter's eyes were wide, surprised, Paul's closed.

"I think we can manage it without causing Paul any further hurt, yes, pretty Pet?"

Peter nodded, then tilted his head. "B...bath. L...let's f...f...float in the b...bath. F...f...feels good."

"Excellent idea." He nodded and stood, holding his hands out to them. They came to him, his dark-
eyed beauties, his boys. He purred, leading them to the bathroom, bypassing the shower in favor of
the huge tub. "Oil or bubbles, my Pretties?" He turned on the water on to fill the tub.

"Oil."

"B...b...b...bubbles."

The sweet laughter kissed the air. So different.

"Maybe the oil? The bubbles will hide your sweet cocks and then how will I find them to suck?"

Paul found some minty oil and handed it to Bowie. "We'll smell like candy."

"That will definitely encourage me to eat you both up." Grinning, he poured some into the water,
the scent filling the room immediately.

Peter helped Paul undress, then they slid into the water, Paul moaning, the lines of pain in the thin
face dissolving. They were lovely together, so similar and yet so different. A challenge. One that
would keep him interested for the rest of his days, he was sure.

He slipped into the water with them, hands sliding on their skin, the oil making them slick and
smooth. Paul leaned back, uncharacteristically quiet and still, his fiery lover's passion banked. He
kissed them each and then slowly made his way down their bodies, leaving kisses, touching, loving
them. Peter moaned, Paul shivered, moving for him, shifting.

Bowie shifted them as he got to their groins, pushing them together and beginning to lick the tips of
their pricks.

Paul moaned, pressing up, body rippling. "Scared I was going to lose this. Promised I'd be good
forever if I could come home again."

"You don't have to be good forever, Paul," he murmured, lips traveling slowly along hot

flesh. "You just have to try."

"Y...you don't h...have to be anything, P...paulie. J...just ours."

"That's right. You tell him, Peter. Tell him how much we need him. Just as he is."

He squeezed the heads of their cocks together and sucked them into his mouth.

"Oh!" Peter jerked, moaning low. "P...p...paulie! N...need you. N...n...need you a...a...always.
N...n...need you t...to not h...hide."

Paul groaned, the sound almost a sob.

He hummed around their cocks, let them slip away for a moment. "My beautiful boys. Mine. Each
other's and mine. Always." Then he returned to sucking, licking the two heads inside his mouth,
marveling at the way they felt the same, but tasted different, Peter's ring adding the taste of metal
to his mouth and letting him know which cock was whose.

He could feel the heat, the tension, could hear Peter's soft words, Paul's moans and cries.

He went down on their cocks, could feel them stretching his mouth wide. The ring bumped the back
of his throat again and again as his head bobbed.

"Bowie. Bowie. Love." Paul's voice was husky, low, fingers soft on his cheek. He nuzzled into Paul's
hand for a moment and then continued blowing them, pulling more and more of their sweet flavor
out of them. He felt when Paul stopped thinking, stopped doing anything but feeling as his Pet's
thrusts sped, no longer matching Peter's, but accompanying it, adding to it. He encouraged their
movements, wanting their pleasure in his belly. Peter shot first, body rippling, then Paul came,
pushing hard and deep, crying out his name. He swallowed them both down, licked them clean and
reluctantly let them slide from his mouth.

Peter floated, boneless, and Paul pushed into his arms, taking a hard, deep kiss. He wrapped his
hands around Paul's ass, pulling his pretty Pet closer as he kissed Paul back, giving as good as he was
getting.

Paul scooted closer, shifting until his cock was nudging that tight hole, Paul bearing down to take
him in. Groaning, he pushed, letting Paul's body swallow him up. Such tight heat. So good.

"Yours." Not even the water separated them.

He nodded, looking intently into Paul's eyes. "Mine, Paul. For always."

Then he brought their lips together again, kissing hard as he began to thrust. Paul moved on him, a
little stiff from injury, the cast rubbing his shoulder -- still hurt, but not hiding, just his.

"Carefully," he murmured, as much to himself as to Paul. It would be so easy to forget and just lean
Paul back over the edge of the tub and take him hard. Paul muttered and shook his head, moving
faster, panting against his lips. He wrapped one arm around Paul's shoulders, the other holding onto
his Pet's hip on the uninjured side as he guided Paul's movements.

Paul relaxed into the touches, ceding control, but matching his passion. "Yours... Oh, Bowie..."

He purred softly, filling Paul's mouth with his sounds and his heat, moving them together with slow,
solid movements.

Peter slid over, hand moving to circle Paul's cock, working the hard flesh gently.

"O...ours." Yes, Peter was right. Theirs as well as his.

He moved them a little faster, shifting just enough to nudge Paul's gland over and over again.

"Oh!" Paul jerked, breath coming faster, panting from his pretty Pet. "Bowie. Bowie. Petey. Love.
Please. I..."

"Come for me, pretty Pet. Let me feel you - come on my cock."

Paul cried out, arching as his cock was clenched, squeezed.

"Paul!" Growling, he thrust up once more and let himself go, let his spunk fill Paul's ass, pleasure
making him shiver.

Peter took Paul's weight, kept the cast from the water as their lover relaxed, eyes closed. He kissed
them both softly and ran a little more hot into the water. He stretched back against the tub, holding
his arms open to them.

Peter arranged Paul against him, then joined them, Paul already sleeping, worn out.

"H...he's t...tired."

"Yes, healing takes a lot out of a body. He'll be fine. We'll take care of him."

Peter nodded, offering him a long, slow kiss. "W...we will."

He nodded and took another kiss.

He was a very lucky man. Perhaps mostly so because his boys tended to freak out one at a time.

Chapter Twelve

They'd been dying their hair and dying their skin and playing catch when the glass jar went flying
across the room, shattering, filling the shop with the scent of sicky-sweet flowers, which was sort of
ew, but the crash was cool and had him and Peter laughing madly.

He had shaved Peter's pubes, then they'd dyed each other icy blue. He'd hacked at his hair and dyed
it silver, while Peter's was a shocking red. They looked amazing. Amazing enough that they'd closed
early and fucked like bunnies and now were playing and waiting for Bowie.

Mostly playing.

"What if we threw the ink at the wall, Petey? It's like art."

"I see my boys are playing today." Bowie came in, mouth dropping open as he saw them.

"Well, look at you."

Paul bounced, spinning him and Petey around and around to show. "Aren't we stunning?"

"Oh, look at all that blue skin... Come here, I want to see if you feel as cool as you look."

Bowie was growling, eyes hot, pants tenting impressively.

Peter chuckled, bouncing into Bowie's arms. "N...n...now you c...can't m...make his b...b...butt red."

Bowie laughed. "No, but think of how pretty a purple it would go..." Bowie kissed Peter, rubbing
against his twin.

He chuckled, pushing in for his own share of kisses, pinching Peter's butt as he did.

Bowie caught him at it, slapping his ass hard as their mouths met. His cry pushed into Bowie's lips,
cock jerking. Oh. Oh, it was the night of their days off. It was time to play.

Bowie made a soft sound. "Which one of you is going to suck me off?"

"Me!"

"M...m...me!"

He stuck his tongue out at Peter, waggling it. "I called first!"

"N...no f...f...fair!"

"Oh, I think there's enough of me for two mouths, even if one of them's as big as yours is, Paul."
Bowie put a hand on each of their shoulders, pushing down.

"You're always so mean to me." He grinned, licking and lapping as he bent, Peter's laugh warm and
happy.

Bowie chuckled, the sound husky, needy. "Are you saying you don't have a big mouth?"

"Of course! I am... not mouthy." He smiled at Peter, then dropped his mouth over the tip of Bowie's
cock.

Bowie didn't answer, just held his head and encouraged him to go down on the thick heat.

Peter's tongue licked his lips, the base of Bowie's cock, Bowie's heavy balls. Bowie growled and
groaned, the hand on his head guiding him, keeping him moving. He took Bowie in deep, head
bobbing, throat swallowing around the wide head. Bowie's growls got louder, the trim hips starting
to move. He purred, Peter's hands sliding over his back.

"My beautiful boys. Make me need. Make me want to do things. Perverse things."

Bowie's words were low, sexy, promises.

He sucked harder, Bowie's words exciting him.

"Yes, take care of me, boys and then I'll take care of you. Hmm... that sweet little ass of yours, Paul,
begging for my touch."

Oh. Oh, yes. His hips began rocking, little cries vibrating Bowie's cock.

"That's it." Bowie pushed deeper, moaning. Faster, harder, their lover rocked in his mouth.

Bowie shouted, cock throbbing in his mouth, seed splashing down his throat. Peter pressed up,
sharing Bowie's flavor with him, their bodies rubbing together.

Bowie hummed softly for a moment and then pulled them apart. "Mine."

They blinked up at Bowie in unison, licking their lips.

"Oh, so pretty. Who wants to perform first?"

Peter rubbed against him. "P...p...perform?"

"Perform. Or get spanked, fisted, fucked with a dildo, tied up and left to writhe with need as I fuck
the other. I'm easy." Bowie grinned and waggled his eyebrows.

Peter gasped, eyes wide, and he started giggling, tickled.

"Oh you're volunteering, are you, Paul?"

Bowie grabbed Peter's hand and pulled him over to the couch, curling his twin in the solid arms.

He looked over, tilting his head. "Can I come over, too?"

"You're supposed to perform for us, Paul -- if you need to come closer..."

He tilted his head, trying to figure out how he ended up alone and Petey ended up doing the right
thing again. One day he'd get it. He would.

He shook his head. "I'm cool here. What do you want me to do?"

"Dance for me, pretty Pet. Make me want you." Bowie chuckled. "More than I already do, I mean."

He smiled over, then went to turn on the music, find something throbbing and low, ass swaying.
Bowie purred, hand stroking Peter's arm as they watched. He powered the lights down, made the
room dim, shadowed, and started swaying, dancing slowly.

He'd danced for a few minutes when Bowie whispered into Peter's ear, gave his twin a kiss and a
slap on the ass as Peter got up to join him. He opened his arms and Peter came to him, snuggled
close and rubbed against him, their lips sliding together.

"Pretties..." Bowie spread his arms across the back of the couch, watching them intently.

Paul tangled his fingers in Petey's hair, tongue sliding deep, tasting that sweet mouth.

Peter was hard, rubbing against him, arms sliding around his waist.

"Yes, sweet boys, pleasure each other, let me see your joy."

He chuckled into Peter's mouth. So distractible, their Bowie. They licked and rubbed, need getting
stronger.

"When you're done I'm going to plug you both. Tie you up and let Peter watch me beat you, Paul."

Peter moaned, hands gripping his ass, pulling them together. "P...p...please, Pauly. N...need."

Bowie's purr slid below the music, caressed his skin.

He nodded, pushing Peter against the wall, thrusting. "Yeah. Peter. Need."

A tube of slick was pushed into his hand, Bowie's touch fleeting and warm along his back.

"Oh... Gonna fuck you, Petey. 'Kay?"

Peter turned, ass pushing back into him, rubbing, asking for it. He slicked two fingers up, pushing
them deep, leaning close to whisper. "Oh, love you, Petey. Love you."

"Show me, Pretties. Show me your love. Your need." Bowie's voice was a touch, a caress and they
both moaned as Paul’s cock replaced his fingers. "Yes," murmured Bowie, his sounds filling the air.

He stretched Peter out in front of him, hips rocking, sliding in and out of perfect heat.

"Tell me how it feels, Peter," Bowie said, hands sliding over him, over Peter, fingers digging in.

"I...I...I... H...hot. Hot. D...d...deep. My P...pauly."

He nodded, gasping, pushing hard. "Yours, Peter. Always."

"My boys. So beautiful. Such pretty Pets." Bowie's voice was a low growl, the firm touches still
coming, keeping all three of them together.

"Yeah. Yeah, yours." He squeezed Peter's fingers, whimpering low. "Soon..."

"Come, my Pretties, come for me."

Peter clenched tight around him, milking his cock, making him gasp and arch, making him come.
Bowie's purrs and those sure, solid hand stroking his back brought him down.

He relaxed against Peter, moaning softly, aftershocks rocking him.

"Excellent." Bowie smacked his ass. "My turn for a little fun."

He hummed, wiggled, nuzzled Peter's neck, making his twin giggle.

Bowie disappeared and came back a moment later with a basket. "I'd like you both to lean over the
sofa, asses high."

He slid out of Peter, both of them moaning and shivering. Moving slowly, they managed to lean over
the couch in unison, sharing a long, deep kiss.

Bowie's groan was low, deep. "Every moment I fall more deeply in love with you both."

Peter's eyes were shining, happy, and he nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"Yours, Bowie. We're yours."

"Yes. My beautiful boys." Bowie's hand slid over his ass, then moved down and teased his guiche.

He shivered, wiggled a little, feeling the tugs in the pit of his belly. Bowie kept tugging, fingers sliding
forward to tease his balls, and then a hard plug slid into his body. Paul moaned, back arching,
sensation filling him. Beside him Peter was moaning, eyes rolling.

"So pretty, Petey. So fine."

"You both are. You may sit, Paul, while I tie your brother."

Bowie place Peter on the carpet, wrapping a red rope around his twin, beginning with Peter's feet
and working his way up. Paul rocked, watching them, cock slowly filling. The rope circled Peter's ice-
blue body, wrapping around his twin's cock, crossing Peter's belly. Oh. Oh, Peter looked so fine, so
relaxed and wanton. He started pumping his cock back to hardness.

"Be careful with that," growled Bowie. "It's mine."

"Oh..." He spread, lips parting. "Yours?"

"That's right, Paul. Mine."

Bowie finished tying up Peter and bent to kiss him. A pillow was placed beneath Peter's head.
"Watch and enjoy, Pretty."

"L...l...love you, B...b...b...b..." Peter took a deep breath, grinned. "Bowie!"

Bowie beamed. "I love you, Peter."

Then those green eyes were turned on him.

He shifted, shivered, caught by those pretty eyes. "Bowie."

"Paul." Bowie sat next to him. "Assume the position, Pretty. Cock between my legs."

He moaned, bit his bottom lip, moving to drape himself over Bowie's thighs, heart pounding. Bowie’s
hand slid over his ass, fingers jostling the plug now and then.

Paul stretched, cock rubbing, ass wiggling. "Love you, Bowie."

"Love you, Pet." With that Bowie's hand came down on his ass.

"Oh!" He groaned, thighs parting a little, the familiar burn flooding his ass.

"Such a perfect ass." The next slap hit him straight on his crease, the plug jostling hard.

The words sent a thrill through him, a long whimper escaping.

"Are you watching, Peter? Watching me spank your twin? He loves it, you know. The harder I hit, the
harder his cock gets. It's sliding between my legs, leaving a wet trail now. He's so hard." Bowie's
words were interspersed with spanks, hand coming down in different spots, Bowie varying the
strength of them.

"H...h...he's glowing." Peter's words were rough, wanton, but he barely heard them, his focus on
that hand and the fire it fanned inside him.

"You hear that, Paul? Peter is watching you glow. Your twin is getting off on watching me do this to
you." Bowie's voice was low now, almost pure growl, that hand coming down harder and harder,
most hits nudging the plug inside him.

"Would you like to come, my beautiful, pet?"

"Yes. Yes, please. Bowie. Bowie, love." The room was spinning, his heart pounding.

"Then come." Bowie's hand landed so that the plug shoved in hard, hitting his gland.

"Bowie!" He jerked, hips rocking hard as he sawed his cock between Bowie's thighs, screaming his
pleasure.

Bowie purred, hand sliding over his ass. "Beautiful. Isn't he beautiful, Peter?" He heard Peter's
agreement from a distance, heart pounding in his ears.

The plug was pulled from his body, Bowie shifting him to lie cuddled in the warm lap.

Bowie's lips closed over his in a deep kiss that did nothing to dispel his dizziness. "I love you, Paul."

"Oh. Oh, love you." He hummed, snuggling close, world just spinning.

When the world began to slow he found himself being wrapped in red rope to match Peter's. Bowie
laid him on the ground facing his twin, close enough their skin was touching, close enough they
could kiss without moving their heads.

A light blanket was placed over them.

"Quiet now, my Pretties. Enjoy yourselves, each other, but gently, softly. In a few hours we will
continue."

He moaned softly, Peter's tongue sliding out to taste him. "Yes, Bowie. Love you."

Bowie himself settled close by, naked, legs cross, wrists resting on his knees. "I love you both,"
Bowie murmured before he began to breathe slowly in and out.

Oh, saints and fishes, he was happy.

At peace.

Home.

***

Peter hummed, sliding against Paul, ropes tight and sweet against his skin. His twin looked so happy,
so at peace, dozing and snuggling, looking almost young, pure -- a look only Bowie could put on the
familiar face

He looked over to Bowie, offering their lover, their center, a warm smile. "Love you."

Bowie smiled back, green eyes full of love. "Are you at peace, Pet?"

"Y...y...yes." He instinctively reached out for Bowie, blushing when the ropes stopped him.

Bowie chuckled, reaching out to slide a hand through his hair and then over Paul's shorn head. "Time
to wake and play some more."

Paul's eyes fluttered open, a soft smile appearing. "Love..." Peter chuckled, leaned forward to rub
their noses together.

Bowie growled. "I want to fuck my boys."

They slid together, soft little cries answering Bowie as they nodded.

"Peter first -- you were so patient, waiting while I spanked Paul."

"P...p...paulie looked s...so fine." He smiled at Paul's blush, snuggling closer. "Y...you're t...too far
away, B...bowie."

Bowie chuckled and then curled up behind him, pushing him against Paul. Their lover nibbled at his
neck, breath and tongue hot on his skin, teeth sharp, grazing.

"Oh." He arched, fighting the ropes, fighting to touch.

"I'll let you out after, hmm? You can suck Paul off when I fuck him." Bowie's hands traced the ropes,
warming his skin, moving them slightly and making his skin burn.

He nodded, hips pushing out, trying to rub against Bowie's cock.

"Mmmm, my eager, eager boy." Bowie's fingers slid to his ass, pushed against the plug inside him.

"O...oh." He gasped, sensation shooting up his spine.

Bowie's hands and mouth moved over him, sending him higher and higher.

"N...need. P...p...paulie. B...bowie. N...need."

"Kiss him, Paul, fuck him with your tongue." Bowie's fingers were back at the plug, teasing, twisting it
inside him.

Paul nodded, lips covering his, fucking his mouth with deep, hungry motions. Bowie’s hand wrapped
around his cock, pumping as the plug was pulled away. He rocked, caught between his lover and his
twin, soaring, moaning into it. Bowie's thick cock nudged against his ass, the solid fingers moving to
spread his ass wide apart. He loved that burn, the stretch, the promise of Bowie deep inside him,
fucking him -- more than he thought he could.

"Perfect." Bowie's word slid across his skin as that hot prick pushed into his ass.

He arched, and Paul pushed back against him, pressing him back against Bowie, onto Bowie. Bowie
didn't give him time to catch his breath, to get used to the thick heat inside him. No, Bowie just
fucked him with hard, even strokes, cock sliding past his gland again and again. He writhed, working
against the ropes, against Paul, against Bowie. Needing.

That big hand was back on his cock, pumping as Bowie thrust into him. It felt huge, the sensations
inside him, the ropes, the touches, the kisses, the cock spreading him wide.

Bowie's fingers did something with the ropes holding his cock and suddenly he was free, the
sensations that much stronger.

His eyes flew open, rolling wildly as he threw his head back. "Bowie!"

"Come when you need to, My Pretty. Show us your pleasure."

Another few thrusts rocked him and then Paul nipped his bottom lip, making him ache, sending him
flying. Bowie kept thrusting, hand moving on him, making him shiver and shake, keeping the
aftershocks rippling through him. He slowly relaxed, moaning, melting around Bowie's cock.

Bowie slowed and then pulled away, hands sliding over him and removing the ropes.

"'s g...g...g...good." He whimpered as he stretched, muscles working.

Bowie's hands massaged him, sliding over his skin, easing him. He turned, lifting his face for a kiss,
dissolving beneath those hands. Bowie's mouth opened over his, his lover kissing him thoroughly.

As their lips parted, Bowie licked at them. "Help me with Paul's ropes and then we'll make him fly
together."

"H...he f...flew with you b...b...before." He winked, smiling up, happy and teasing. Bowie winked
back. "So you're saying he should be fine without getting fucked."

"Petey!" Paul's cry was low, made him grin.

"I...I...I'm saying y...you can p...p...play with him n...now."

"Oh, good, because I haven't come yet, and I very much want to." Bowie rubbed their noses
together, chuckling.

Paul's chuckle brushed against his hip, then a sharp bite stung him, made him jump, wiggle.
"M...m...marked me!"

Bowie made a noise, and popped Paul's butt. "My job."

Paul laughed and wriggled, butt still purple, still showing Bowie's handprints. "You sure, Bowie
love?"

"Oh yes, I am very sure." Bowie growled and little and then hauled Paul up. "I'll show you."

His twin's head was put in his lap and Bowie bent, mouth closing over Paul's hip in roughly the same
spot where Paul had bitten him. Paul cried out, the moan high and needy, ecstatic, his twin riding
the pain, the sting, loving it. Peter watched, amazed, as always, at the things Paul needed, the things
Bowie needed to give. Bowie backed off from Paul's hip and then bit again, this time just beneath
Paul's left nipple.

"Bowie!" Paul was hard, cock dark and wet-tipped, struggling in the ropes. "Yes. Yours. More,
please."

"I won't leave you wanting," Bowie promised, moving to make another lurid mark on Paul's neck.

"Mmm... Bowie. Love." Paul whimpered, looking almost magical as he undulated.

"O...oh. B...b...bowie. Pretty."

Green eyes looked up at him, full of heat, full of knowing. Bowie's mouth continued to move on Paul,
biting here, sucking there, leaving behind a dark mark each time. The ropes around Paul's legs were
pulled away, Bowie splitting Paul's legs to leave a mark on the inside of one pale thigh. Peter smiled,
moaning as Paul spread wide, hips rocking the plug inside, Paul's eyes rolling. The back of Paul's knee
was marked, his calf on the other leg, both feet, one at the ankle, the other on the sole.

Paul sobbed, no tears, just gasps of pure pleasure, utter need. Bowie pushed Paul's legs up over his
shoulders and then, in a single motion, pulled out the plug and replaced it with that thick cock. Little
words and pleas and promise poured out of Paul, his twin forgetting to be defensive or bratty or
anything but horny and happy and in love.

Bowie started moving, fucking Paul with abandon, that thick cock disappearing into his twin's body
over and over again. Peter moved over, touching them both, stealing kisses.

Bowie's kisses were focused, hard like his thrusts into Paul. Peter slid one hand down, touching
where they were joined, fingers sliding on Bowie's shaft. Bowie’s lips captured his mouth again,
tongue fucking his mouth in time with the thrusts into Paul.

"Please Bowie. Gonna come. Gonna," Paul said, and Peter smiled into Bowie's eyes, the need in
Paul's voice addictive.

"Should I let him come, Peter?" Bowie asked.

"I...I...I... I love when h...he needs." He wasn't sure what that meant, what that said. Bowie purred,
giving him a warm smile, those eyes looking at him, so hot. "No coming yet, Paul. Not yet." Then
Bowie shifted, moving faster, harder. Paul keened, head lifting up, mouth open, panting. Bowie
moaned low and shuddered, pushing in hard one more time and stopping. Paul's eyes rolled, entire
body shuddering, shaking, sweat pouring off him.

He was beautiful.

Purring, Bowie pulled out, petting Paul, massaging Paul's legs as he lowered them to the floor. "Tell
me what you're thinking, Peter."

He blinked, looked up, surprised. "T...th...that h...he's b....b....b...b....b...b..."

Bowie's hands slid over Peter, following the remaining ropes, stroking the hard, weeping cock, as
Bowie waited patiently for him to say the words.

He slammed his hand down, the sudden jolt pushing the word from him. "Beautiful! H...e's
beaut...tiful."

Bowie took his hand and kissed it, lips warm and soft against his skin. "Yes, he is. You both are."
Bowie's tongue teased his palm. "Are you going to let him come, Peter?"

"M...me?" He moaned, hand petting Paul's belly, eyes on Bowie's.

Bowie nodded. "Just say the word and I'll undo the rope that binds his cock to my will. To your will
tonight."

He shivered, excited and unsure and worried all at once. He bent down, lapping at the tip of Paul's
cock, tasting the need there. Paul jerked, twisting, sobbing.

One of Bowie’s hands slid along his back. "Look how he writhes for you."

"H...he n...n...needs." He took Paul's bound cock in deeper, the sharp scream lovely.

"Yes. And he does it with such style."

He lifted his head, blinking, curious. "St...st...style?"

Paul groaned. "Petey!"

Bowie chuckled, looking absolutely delighted. "He glows; he's beautiful in his need. He lets you know
how much he does need -- making noises, writhing, begging."

"Gonna start threatening." Paul tried to wink.

"That's when you really start torturing him," Bowie murmured, smacking Paul's hip.

"You're being mean." Paul wasn't really bitching, more playing, begging, making him chuckle.

"This is where you tell him to be careful or you'll show him what mean really is."

Bowie's voice was gentle, full of laughter and one hand slid up along Paul's leg, playing with the
bound balls.

"B...b...be g...g...good, Pauly." He grinned, rubbing against Paul, having fun.

Bowie laughed and winked. "I'm going to be out of a job at this rate."

He looked up, gave Bowie a warm, honest smile. "N...no. N...n...need you."

Paul, who was rubbing against him desperately, focused only on release, nodded.

Bowie reached out and stroked his cheek. "I know, Pretty."

He nuzzled, so happy, so good. "L...let him come a...and w...w...we can have s...supper and a...a
b...bath."

Bowie stroked Paul's belly. "You hear that, Pet? Peter says you can come."

The rope around Paul's cock loosened, Bowie's hand wrapping around his twin's prick and pumping.

"Oh!" Paul jerked up, spunk spraying, body moving wildly.

Bowie stroked Paul a few more times and then brought his hand to his mouth, licking Paul's come
from it. Paul curled into a ball, panting, shivering. Peter petted, giving Bowie a worried look.

"Wrap around him, share your warmth, your love. Let him know how good he was, how proud of
him you are." Bowie's voice was low, one hand sliding on Paul's leg.

He did, curling around his twin, touching and rocking and petting, moaning at the way Paul relaxed,
eased, gentled for him.

Oh.

Oh, this must be why Bowie did this, this... trust.

"So beautiful together." Bowie's hands slid over him, over Paul.

Paul made a soft purring noise, cuddling him. Bowie lay down on the other side of Paul and wrapped
strong arms around them both. "Now that is a good start to the weekend."

"Mmm... Yes. Yes, Bowie." Paul snuggled and nodded and he leaned over for a kiss.

"Y...yes."

Chapter Thirteen

Bowie had a few days off and he'd spent them on his own, in the pristine rooms next to the home he
shared with the twins. He loved them dearly, loved playing with them, but he needed a bit of time to
center, to rebuild his energies so he could keep up with their needs and desires.

He chuckled as he got dressed and headed next door to prepare a meal for them to share later. They
were a handful, especially Paul, but he wouldn't trade them for anything. They challenged him, loved
him, needed him, fulfilled him.

After three days of meditation, he was hungry. For food, yes, but also for them. For the sight of
them, the sound and scent of them, the taste of them. And to feel their skin beneath his fingers.
They would be unmarked, no bruises or handprints on them, no rope burns.

He growled softly, thinking perhaps today he would have Peter cuff Paul to the chains in the
playroom and he would whip Paul and then fuck Peter where his twin could watch and wait for his
own chance.

It was everything Bowie could do not to take himself in hand just from the thought of it. He glanced
at the clock. His Pets should be home soon, really should have been a already. He turned the heat
down on the quick stew he'd prepared, lidded it and removed his apron, wandering around the place
in the nude.

His own personal whirlwinds came through the door in a rush of noise and color and... smoke?

Smoke?

Obviously no one was burning, because the noises were laughing and hooting and giggling and not
screaming.

"Give me the thing!"

"N...no. J...j...jewel gave it t...to me."

"I'm not going to keep it. I just wanna see it."

"W...we need to sh...sh...show it..."

"To Bowie. Yeah, because cool, huh?"

"U...u...u...uh-huh."

Cautiously, but grinning, because they were obviously happy, Bowie went into the hall.

"Bowie!" The happy cries filled the air and he braced himself for the pouncing, arms suddenly filled
with happy laughing twins, one all white, one dyed black as pitch.

He took a kiss from the white boy -- Peter -- and then one from his black boy -- Paul --and hugged
them tightly, so glad to have ended his self-imposed break.

"Oh, I've missed you my Pretties."

"We've missed you."

"Y...yes. B...but we've b...been good."

"Very good. Deliciously good."

"Oh, then you must deserve a reward!" Such lovely, beautiful boys and being so good.

According to them, at any rate.

Peter nodded, eyes... well, honestly, sort of terrifying with the empty white contacts, somehow
more scary that Paul's black. It wasn’t as bad as the first time they’d tried the colors, but it still
wasn’t his favorite version of his lovers.

"Jewel gave Petey a present, Bowie. A box and these cubes and you put them in and press the
button and smoke comes out."

Peter nodded. "Th...there's sleepy sm...smoke. A...a...and wake up sm...sm...sm...smoke."

Paul bounced. "There's all kinds of cubes to play with."

Bowie frowned. "It sounds like an incense burner, but if the smoke is mind-altering it's not
something that's allowed in the club, Pets."

He would have to speak with Kytan. Or Rivan. He never could remember which boy belonged to
which brother, but he definitely remembered Jewel was the one who came off the street; there was
a harder edge to him than to Hinton.

He got twin pouts -- the expressions exactly the same and utterly adorable.

Oh, they were hard to resist. "I tell you what. We'll give the device to Malachi and ask him to
determine whether or not it is illegal to have such a device here at the club. Perhaps some of the
cubes are harmless and can be used."

And perhaps if it wasn't, something similar could be constructed by Mouse...

Peter looked at Paul who thought, then nodded. "Not worth losing Bowie and the shop, Petey. It's
just a toy, huh?" Well, well, sensibility from his hot-headed boy.

They handed over the device and the box of cubes and he put them in the cupboard to deal with
later. "If we can't keep it, we'll find something similar to replace it, all right?"

He got two nods and then he was pounced again, their lips pressing against his own. He opened his
mouth wide, taking their tongues in, fingers sliding along their spines. When the kisses ended he
grinned. "I think such excellent behavior deserves a reward, don't you?"

His boys laughed, nodded, both of them nearly vibrating, desire and excitement pouring from them.
He wrapped an arm around each of them, leading them to the playroom. "Has Paul been very, very
good, Peter?"

Peter nodded, reaching out to pet his twin, fingers stark against the dark belly. "V...very."

"Excellent." He leaned in and whispered into Peter's ear. "I'm going to whip him, but not push him
hard enough to safeword. Is that all right with you, Peter?"

"W...will y...you l...l...l...love on him a...after?" Such a sweet boy, so loving.

"Of course, Peter." He slid his hand along the alabaster cheek. "And on you."

Peter nuzzled into his touch, humming. "Love you."

He gave Peter a soft kiss. "I love you, pretty Pet."

Then he gave them both a look. "Now tell me, boys, how hard would it be to take this dye off your
skin?"

Paul smiled. "It should wash off, Bowie. We were testing to see if we liked it for the long-term, but
it's a little..."

Peter giggled. "Sc..sc...scary?"

"Stark."

"W...wierd?"

"Plain."

Both his boys laughed, kissing each other with a happy passion.

He chuckled. "In that case let's shower together and wash it off. I want to paint you with my marks."
He slid his hand along Paul's back, imagining the soft skin plain but for his welts, spots of blood from
his whip.

The contacts came out first, his boys' lovely, expressive brown eyes becoming visible. Then the lean
bodies with their rings and paint were bared when the water started. He joined them in the shower,
lathering them up, taking his time, fingers sliding over their skin, lingering at Peter's nipple rings and
Prince Albert, Paul's guiche.

The dyes washed away, leaving him with two beautiful boys, smooth skinned and lovely, dark hair
sleek and almost black.

He purred. "Oh, my Pretties. Do you have any idea how lovely you look like this? Your skin calls to
me, calls for my touch, my marks."

Moaning, he leaned in and worked up a mark with his mouth just above Peter's left buttock. Peter
groaned, stretching, pushing into Paul's arms, face raised for a kiss. He watched them kiss each other
until he was satisfied with the mark he'd left, and then he switched boys, intent on putting a
matching mark on above Paul's right butt cheek.

Paul wiggled, tempting and teasing, eyes shining and loving him. He nipped with his teeth, giving
Paul a darker mark. Paul gasped, jerked, rubbing against Peter.

"Yes," he murmured, drawing back to admire his handiwork. He stroked the two marks, pressing his
thumb in against them. His boys rubbed against each other, getting breathless, gaspy. He put a hand
on each shoulder and gently, but inexorably pulled them apart. "Come. I have plans." He got soft
little moans of complaint, two sets of needy, passion-drunk eyes fastened on him. He stroked their
cheeks. "You won't be disappointed, my Pretties."

Taking a hand in each of his, he led them to the playroom, walking slowly, letting their anticipation
build. Peter cuddled, Paul bounced eagerly, both of them loving him. He set the lighting to simulate
sunlight and put on his favorite field noises.

"Peter, I assume you know how to work the cuffs and chains? I'd like you to get Paul ready while I
choose my whip."

Paul's eyes went wide, searching his. "Not a punishment, though, right?"

"Oh, no, my Pretty." He slid his hands along Paul's back, stroking the fine skin. "I'm going to paint
your back with the whip. I'm going to make you sing. You've been so very good; I wanted to do
something special for you."

Paul relaxed, leaned into his touch. "Oh. Okay. Love you, Bowie." So rare, those words from his Paul.

He licked his way from Paul's neck, to his Pet's mouth, taking it with a sweet, deep kiss.

"All right. Peter, if you please." He smacked Paul gently on the ass to get him moving to the middle
of the room and then went to the cupboard, keeping half an eye on the boys.

Peter pulled down the cuffs, kissing Paul's wrists before fastening them both on. The twins were
whispering, touching, cheeks rubbing together. He purred. So beautiful when they worked together.
Not that there wasn't a fierce beauty to them when they fought, but this... this was his.

He choose a short whip with a flat edge, more a flogger really than a traditional whip, something
that Paul would be able to feel, that would leave dark bruises and welts, but that wouldn't hurt too
much or break the skin more than a little.

Peter's eyes met his. "F...f...f...feet, too?"

He shook his head. "No, he's fine like that. Would you like to watch or suck his cock?"

"S...s...s...suck him." Those sweet eyes smiled at him, thanking him. It still upset Peter, the things
Paul needed.

He went over and gave them both kisses before guiding Peter down to Paul's prick, which waited
eagerly. "Take your time."

Then he took his place behind Paul, fingers sliding first along the pale back, stroking the mark he'd
left. Paul moaned, hips slowly moving into Peter's mouth.

He waited until they'd found a rhythm and then he raised the whip and hit Paul with it, right
between his shoulder blades.

Paul jerked, hands twisting in the cuffs. "Bowie!"

"Yes, my Pretty. Feel me." He hit Paul again.

Paul's moan was sweet, hungry, ringing through the room. The smooth skin flushed, growing dark
and pink. Bowie groaned, his own prick hard, leaking.

He let the whip fly again, catching Paul's ass. Peter's mouth was filled, Paul's hips pushing the heavy
cock deep. Again he hit, and again, finding their rhythm, driving Paul's cock into Peter with the
touches of his whip. Paul cried out over and over, the sounds needy, feeding his passion. Peter's
hands stroked Paul's legs, trembling, petting.

He didn't work Paul for too long, knowing the need wasn't riding his Pet. Not hard, not yet.
Eventually he'd have to make Paul bleed, but not today. There was a lovely pattern of welts on Paul's
back, running vertically from the tops of his shoulders to the tops of his thighs.

Bowie walked up and pressed against the heated skin. "Well done, Paul. Take his mouth, give him
your pleasure. You've earned it."

"Oh. Oh, Bowie. Feel you. Feel you everywhere." Paul panted, hips rubbing furiously, rocking against
him.

His hands slid to pluck at Paul's nipples. Peter groaned, Paul bucking and sobbing against him. One
hand sliding to Peter's head, he held it in place for Paul, pushing with his own hips to guide Paul's
movements.

Paul cried out, shaking, shuddering, entire body bowing. He kept moving Paul, kept sliding that prick
into Peter's mouth, moaning as he felt sweet aftershocks shake Paul.

Finally Paul went limp, weight pulling at the chains. "Bowie..."

He let Peter's head go, let Paul finally slip from the beautiful mouth. "Well done, both of you."

He stroked Peter's cheek and then reached up to release Paul, supporting his Pet's body.

"Lovely. Just lovely."

He guided Paul over to a high table resembling a pommel horse and draped Paul over it so his
abused back wasn't disturbed. "You're going to watch me make love to Peter and then I'm going to
spray your back and carry you to bed and we'll all rest together."

Paul moaned and nodded, cheek rubbing the table.

He purred, stopping to kiss Paul. "Such a good Pet today."

Then he went and got Peter, pulling his other Pet up to his feet and drawing him closer so that Paul
could watch them without straining. He could taste Paul inside the heat of Peter's mouth and it
made him moan, his prick jerking as his need grew. Peter whimpered, rubbing against him, hard and
needing, begging for him.

"Hands and knees, pretty Pet."

"Y...yes, l...love." Peter settled, looking over at Paul. "L...love you, P...paulie."

"Love you." Paul moaned, eyelids heavy.

He knelt behind Peter, stroking the skinny back, bending to lick at Peter's crease.

"Bowie!" Peter jerked, head coming up, eyes wide.

He chuckled and spread Peter's cheeks, licking at the tight little hole, making it spasm.

Peter cried out, thighs parting, hips pressing back.

"You like that, Pet, don't you?" He hummed, pushing his tongue in.

"Yes. Y...yes. P...p...please."

He fucked Peter with his tongue, hands going to those hips and tugging him back. Peter was so hot,
tight, body gripping him, muscles shaking. He fucked that sweet hole over and over again, getting it
good and wet and open. He could feel Peter start to shake, entire body trembling.

He gave one last push of his tongue and straightened, lining his cock up with Peter's hole.

"Ready for me, Pet?"

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

With a moan, he slid in, spreading Peter wide with his cock. Peter's body gripped him, pulled him in,
so tight, so needy. Oh, so good. Bowie started to move, fucking Peter with long, slow strokes.

"B...bowie. G...g...gonna..." Peter gasped, arched, trying to move him faster.

He growled a little, slowing, hand slapping Peter's ass. "You don't come until I tell you to."

"W...want, l...love." Peter clenched, rippled around him, sweet flush climbing up the thin spine.

He purred and leaned down, lips sliding along Peter's spine. "I know you do, Pet. That's the idea."

Peter shivered, groaning low, body tugging at his prick. He slowly sped up, shifting to make sure he
nailed Peter's gland every time he pushed in. He could hear Peter's cries, the sound desperate,
needy.

He slid his hand around Peter's cock, stroking with his thrusts. "You can come now, Pet."

Peter jerked, spending before he finished speaking, heat spraying. He thrust a few more times,
letting his own pleasure have him, filling Peter with his seed. His pretty one panted, head hanging
low, sweat sheening the gold skin.

He kissed Peter's back and slid out, helping his Pet to stand. Peter shivered, his come shining on the
thin thighs. Bowie gave him a kiss before getting Paul up as well and leading his boys to their bed.

They were pliant and melting in his arms. So pretty. His.

"P...paulie's b...b...back, Bowie." The thin back was bruised, marked.

He frowned at himself for forgetting. "Thank you, Peter."

He lay Peter down and put Paul in his arms and went to get the first aid kit. Peter was rocking Paul,
humming, stroking the soft hair. He smiled at them and quickly took care of Paul's back, stroking and
petting Paul's sides and arms.

"There, that should have dulled the pain, Paul, and it won't get infected now."

He set the first aid kit down and settled, tugging his boys into his arms. He tried not to let his worry
show, but he'd forgotten to deal with Paul's back, losing himself in his own pleasure instead.

Paul's face was buried in Peter's neck, already sleeping, holding tight. Peter lifted his face for a kiss,
smiling at him. "L...l...love you."

He bent and bestowed it. "Yes, Pet. I love you as well." He kissed Paul's neck. "And you as well, Pet."

"Y...you good?" Those quiet dark eyes saw so much.

He sighed and rested his head on the pillow, turned so he could meet Peter's eyes. "I... made a
mistake tonight."

Peter's fingers brushed his cheek. "W...what?"

"I forgot about Paul's back. I let my own pleasure and need to cuddle supersede my duties in taking
care of you both." It had been careless and he was lucky not only that Peter had reminded him, but
that it hadn't been something dangerous.

Peter nodded, gave him a quiet, serious look. "I...i...it's e...easy sometimes. T...to f...f...forget
a...about P...P...Paulie. I...I...I...I think h...he's s...so loud b...because p...p...people do."

He nodded. It was certainly easier to know exactly what he needed to do when Paul was being a
brat. Still, it wasn't something he was willing to excuse or forgive. "I'm not ‘people’ though. I have to
do better."

"Y...you h...h...have to s...s...see him."

"Yes, exactly." He smiled at Peter, feeling better just from having talked to his Pet.

He stroked Peter's hair and then Paul's. "I love you both. My heart and soul."

Peter nodded, smiling at him, fingers twining in his hair. "W...we know."

"Good. Now sleep. Rest."

Peter nodded, cuddling in, eyes dropping shut.

He purred, letting the worry and concern fall away for now. Letting himself sleep with his lovers.

Chapter Fourteen

Paul loved dancing, loved touching and feeling the boom and bang of the music. Loved the way it
was like sex, but different. Loved the way the other dancers fought to dance with him. Peter had late
appointments and Bowie was meditating, so he got dressed and sparked and painted and headed
down, drawn to the music, drawn to the crowds on the main floor.

They added him right in, the dancers, the crowds. Bodies pressing against him, sliding, rubbing.

There were stimupatches rolling around, tiny little stickers that could send you flying, and he shook
his head, refusing them. He wanted the music, the dancing, the breathless laughing. One of the
dancers behind him grabbed his ass, the hand big and hot and sliding around to cup his prick as a
muscled body pressed against him.

He shook his head, pulling away. Okay, that was too direct, too much.

That hand stayed where it was, tugging him back. "What's the matter, pretty Pet? You don't want to
dance with me?" Bowie's voice was hot, husky, sliding down his spine.

"Oh!" He relaxed, leaned back into Bowie's arms. "I didn't know you danced."

"This isn't dancing," Bowie murmured, rubbing a hard cock against his ass. "This is making love in
public."

"Is there a difference?" He laughed, stepping away, teasing.

Bowie snorted and snagged his waistband, tugging him back. "Not yet."

Paul laughed, hands above his head, shifting them away from the stimupatch dealers.

"Watch out. You don't want those on you."

"Have some experience with them, do you?" Bowie's hands slid along his sides, around to his belly,
stroking.

"Yeah. They make you fly, but it's scary and you toss and you wouldn't like it."

"There's better ways to fly." Bowie nibbled at his neck, fingers dancing back down to his cock.

"Oh..." He moaned a little, head tilting back. His hips moved, rubbing against that wonderful hand.
"You want to go get Petey?"

"In a half hour when he's done. You aren't enjoying dancing with me?"

"I am. I was just being nice." He tried not to be selfish, he did.

Bowie licked at his earlobe. "Good, Pet."

Hips moved against him, Bowie slid that fat cock against his ass, hand working his prick up front. He
melted back, closing his eyes, forgetting the other dancers and focusing on Bowie's movements.

Bowie's hips were shifting with the beat, the movements sexy and wanton. It made the dancing
special, something overwhelming and right. Oh. He'd never be able to dance alone again.

Free hand sliding up under his tight sparkly T, finding his nipples, Bowie kept up the massage on his
cock.

"Bowie..." He moaned, tilting his head to look at his lover. "We're on the dance floor, you know?"

Those green eyes were hot and Bowie chuckled. "I hadn't forgotten, but you will."

He admired that smile, the pretty eyes. "The music is very loud, Bowie."

"No louder than you and Peter play it on occasion." Bowie's cock ground against his ass. Paul
laughed, shook his head, fighting his gasp. "Ours isn't so loud..."

Bowie snorted, tweaked his nipple. "No, it's louder."

"Not." He rubbed back, ass rocking.

Bowie's tweaking was harder this time, and the nip to his ear was sharp. "I say it is."

He vibrated a little, not sure whether they were playing, whether he was supposed to give in or fight
back. Bowie's chuckle was low, wicked and the hand at his groin pushed into his tight pants,
fingertips rubbing on his cock. Gasping, he turned his face into Bowie's throat, hiding, knowing
people were watching.

Bowie purred, but turned his face. "Let them see you glow, Paul. Let them see you shine."

He blushed, shivered. People didn't see him when he was good.

"My beautiful Pet." Bowie's hand wrapped around his prick, tugging and pulling inside his pants, not
trying to disguise his movements for a moment.

"Oh..." He moaned, gasping, pushing up into Bowie's touch. "I need."

"I've got what you need, Pretty." Bowie's hand kept working him, thumb flicking the ring in the tip.

His eyes flew open, thighs parting. "Yours."

"Yes." The word was a growl, breath against his skin. His nipple was tugged again, Bowie's cock
sliding along his ass, full of promise.

"Yes. Close, Bowie. Close." His hips were thrusting, heart pounding.

That purr slid right down his spine. "Give it to me, Pretty."

The lights flashed in his eyes, so bright, so sharp as he came.

Bowie continued to hold him, hand sliding slowly now, slick and wet with his come.

"Beautiful. My Pet. Mine."

"Yours. Oh. Bowie." He felt exposed, bare, eyes closing again.

He felt the other dancers close in, a deep voice murmuring. "He's beautiful, sir. Is he a house sub?"

"No. He's mine." The words were a growl, Bowie's hands tightening on him.

Paul smiled, relaxed into Bowie's hands. His.

Bowie turned him, kissed him. "Mine, Paul. Shall we go find Peter?"

He nodded, smiled. "Yours. Both of us."

"Yes. You both are."

Bowie danced him slowly out of the crowd, hands still sliding on him. He went happily, heading to
the lifts, up a floor to his Peter, his heart. Bowie kissed him in the lift, kissing him hard and deep.

He gasped, arms sliding around Bowie's neck. "Oh. Oh, what was that for?"

One of Bowie's eyebrows rose. "Because I love you."

"Oh." He grinned, blushed. "I love you, too."

Bowie chuckled and put a hand on his back, guiding him out of the lift and to the shop.

The light was still on, Peter whistling and cleaning, looking happy. "H...h...hey!"

Hey, Peter. Are you finished for the day?" Bowie leaned against the wall, tugging him close,

"I...I...I...I am." Peter put the rags away, heading right over to kiss them both.

Bowie hummed, free arm wrapping around Peter. "Mmmm. My boys."

He nodded, kissing Peter, rubbing their noses together.

"You boys feel like playing tonight?" Bowie asked.

Peter chuckled, snuggled close, and nodded. He grinned, leaning up to nuzzle Bowie's jaw. He liked
playing.

"I was thinking a bubble bath first," Bowie admitted. "Maybe with both your cocks bound, some little
plugs keeping you ready..."

Peter's gasp was sweet and he groaned, pressing close, rubbing.

"Oh, good, the thought appealed to me as well. You have anything here, Pretties? I'd like to start
now." Bowie's voice was deep, wanton, needy.

"A...a...anything?"

Paul chuckled. "He means toys, Petey."

Peter blushed, but grinned, eyes twinkling. "H...h...have a PA w...wand f...for Paulie."

"Oh, you naughty boys! Not telling me before now! I'm amenable to changing my plans. Or perhaps
the plugs and bubble bath could be a lead up to the main event." Bowie was looking at him like their
lover was going to eat him up.

Peter nodded, enthusiastic, tugging Bowie over to see. Bowie grinned back at him.

"Come on, Paul, don't you want to see?"

He grabbed the little box of toys that had migrated down from their rooms, then headed over. The
wand was larger than he'd expected. "It's too big, Petey."

Peter shook his head. "N...no. Y...you'll f...f...feel it. Th...th...there's a cap that c...can l...lock on too."

"Is it one with a zapper?" Bowie asked, examining it closely.

"V...vibrates and l...l...light shock."

"I'm not putting something shocking in my cock."

Bowie gave him that raised eyebrow again. "No?"

He shook his head. "No."

"I...I...I wouldn't h...h...hurt you, P...paulie."

"Yes, that's what I was thinking." Bowie's eyes held him. "Why no?"

His eyes went wide. "Bowie? What if it breaks? What if it burns? What if it hurts? What if... That's in
me."

Bowie nodded and went over to the piercing chair. Bowie stripped and then sat, legs spread. "Lube it
up, Peter. I'll take it on a little test run."

He and Peter just stared, wide-eyed, shocked.

Bowie chuckled, the sound low and sexy. "You're absolutely right, Paul. Aside from a piece of paper,
what proof do we have that that's not going to hurt or damage you? I won't take the chance, but I
sure as fuck want to put it in you. Once I'm sure it's safe, you're next."

"H...h...have you e...ever f...felt a s...s...sound, Bowie?"

"No."

Paul blinked over at Peter, then at Bowie. "You... I... You'd do that for me? What if it hurts you?"

Peter stamped his foot. "I s...s...said I w...w...wouldn't hurt you!"

"Better me than you, Paul. And Peter said it won't hurt." Bowie looked and sounded as if they were
discussing a small dildo or a cock ring or something simple and easy.

Peter nodded. "W...won't hurt y...you, Bowie."

Paul just sort of stood, watching as Peter washed his hands and slicked up the sound, hand slipping
over the tip of Bowie's cock.

Bowie held a hand out to him. "Come, Paul. Your job will be to kiss and love on me."

"Are you scared?" He went over, fingers sliding into Bowie's.

"A little nervous, but I'm not scared." Bowie smiled warmly at him. "I don't believe you or Peter
would ever hurt me."

"It w...will f...feel full, Bowie, b...but it w...won't hurt." Peter looked up at Bowie.

"D...deep breath in and out."

As Bowie exhaled, Peter just slid the tube in, shifting Bowie's cock with a practiced hand.

"Fuck!" Bowie's eye went wide and his hand squeezed Paul's.

"You okay? Petey? Is he okay?"

Bowie nodded. "'m fine. Surprised." Bowie's voice was rather breathless, hand still holding his tight.

He frowned, petting Bowie's face, lips brushed nose and cheeks and jaw. "It's okay. It's okay, yeah?"

"I...it's in." Peter showed the little ball at the tip of Bowie's cock.

A shiver went through Bowie. "It's rather... hot. I want to come." Bowie grinned rather wolfishly all
of a sudden. "Of course I can't, can I?"

Peter shook his head. "N...not until I take it out. T...there’s a h...h...hollow one, t...too. C...can stay in
l...longer. I...it's hollow."

Paul swallowed hard, petting Bowie.

"So there's one for both of you, is there?" Bowie moaned softly and smiled at him, hand leaving his
so that arm could go around him, fingers stroking his thigh. "So vibrations and shocks, right? Do me."

Peter nodded, grabbed a little control. The little ball started buzzing, vibrating.

"Holy fuck!" Bowie jerked and his eyes rolled, hips humping at the air.

He looked at Peter, who just smiled. "I...it's good."

Bowie was panting, eyes slowly focusing back onto his prick. "It's..." A shudder went through him. "I
need to fucking come."

Peter shook his head. "N...not yet."

Then Peter pressed some buttons, Bowie's cock jerking and tugging.

"Oh fuck." Bowie shook, eyes turning to him, hot, glazed. "You're trying this."

"You sure?" He bent down, took a deep kiss, Bowie shuddering and rocking as Peter pushed buttons.

Bowie's mouth devoured his, hand sliding through his hair and holding his head in place as the solid
body bucked.

"O...okay. G...gonna take it out." The buzzing got louder as Bowie bucked, the chair rocking.

Come sprayed out of a roaring Bowie as soon as the wand was clear of his prick.

Looking pleased as hell, Peter’s eyes just shone. "G...g...good?"

Bowie reached out to stroke Peter's cheek. "Yes, Pet. Yes, indeed."

Peter hummed, snuggling in, and Paul leaned down, licking at the head of Bowie's cock.

"Be good," Bowie murmured, a shudder going through him.

He cleaned Bowie's cock, belly, Peter coming to help, both of them being very good.

Bowie rumbled, cock jerking and growing hard again. "I wouldn’t be upset if I come again..."

They giggled together, tongues playing, licking, pushing into the slit of Bowie's cock.

Bowie jerked and whimpered, hands gripping the arms of the chair. They played, took turns sucking
and pulling, driving Bowie wild, taking that heavy cock in.

"Soon," growled Bowie, the muscled body moving, cock driving into his mouth, into Peter's.

Peter's fingers rolled the heavy balls, his own fingers sliding inside Bowie's heat. Bowie roared again,
cock spraying into his face. Peter licked his face clean, both of them cuddling together. Bowie
purred, eyes closed, hands sliding idly through their hair.

He winked at Peter, Peter giggling and taking a kiss.

"We should go back home soon."

"We should?" He leaned up, kissed Bowie's leg.

Bowie growled softly. "Yes."

Paul shivered, tongue sliding over the salty skin. Peter slid along his back, taking the sound, going to
clean it. Bowie tugged lazily on him, bringing him up for a long, slow kiss.

"Happy?" He cuddled in, smiling at their melted top.

"Yes, Pretty." He was stroked, Bowie's hand warm. "You?"

Paul nodded, listening to the familiar sounds of Peter moving about, Bowie's heartbeat.

"You're going to love the wand, Paul. Very sexy."

He chuckled. "You watch it. Petey and me will pounce you and you'll have it, now that we know."

Bowie chuckled. "Is someone angling for a spanking?"

Paul gave Bowie his best Peter-look. "Who me?"

Oh, that made Bowie laugh, the green eyes twinkling. "Yes, you."

He wiggled and winked. "I'm as innocent as..."

"M...m...me!" The comparison might have worked if Peter hadn't been holding a sound and a wand.

Bowie laughed. "Oh, I love you boys."

"Good." He grinned, giving Bowie a hard kiss then stood, bouncing away.

Bowie grunted and got out of the chair, putting his clothes back on. "We've got a date with a tub,
boys."

"Oh, goodie. Come on, Petey. Last one in gets a beating!" He took off like a shot.

Bowie and Peter came more slowly, Bowie half leaning on his brother.

He stopped, came back, frowning. "Are you okay? Did we hurt you?"

Bowie smiled. "I'm fine. Just... it was intense."

He slid under Bowie's other arm, helping, getting them into the lift to take them up to their floor.
"Come on. Home and rest for you."

"Oh, no, I can take care of my boys. I'll recover in the tub." Bowie gave him a wink.

He kissed Bowie's cheek at the lift and then went ahead to open the door. Peter walked Bowie to the
bath while he found juice and fruit and thin little cookies.

Bowie moaned at the sight of him. "You're spoiling me. That's my job."

He pinked, handed Bowie some juice. "I love you. That's my job."

Bowie's hand slid along his cheek and then his lover drank the juice and grabbed a peach.

He smiled, then went to Peter, rubbing the cold juice glass on his brother's shoulder. "Did you have a
latemeal?"

Peter nodded, smiled. "M...m...mouse brought s...some ...s...sandwiches."

"Come Pretties, the bath is too big for just me."

They slowly undressed each other, lazy and relaxed, teasing just a little.

Bowie made soft, pleased sounds. "I want you to put a plug in each other -- I'll even let you choose
the plugs. And cock rings, too."

"Bossy, bossy." He winked and Petey giggled, tugging him toward the bathroom door.

"You're cruising, Pretty."

He dared to stick his tongue out at Bowie, winking to make sure Bowie knew he was playing, not
being bad.

"Brat." The word followed him, fond, Bowie chuckling.

"Yep! Yours!" He and Peter laughed all the way to the pretty play room, tumbling together on the
low sofa, rubbing and touching and searching for their toys.

"Should I have given you a time limit?" Bowie called.

"You're supposed to be soaking, Bowie!" He found a pink plug, Peter came up with a round metal
one.

"I am! I want to be watching as well."

Peter giggled, tongue sliding over his hole, wetting him. "Oh... We... we're doing what you said..."

"Naughty boys," murmured Bowie from the doorway. "You knew I wanted to watch."

Peter spread him wider, his cry sharp as Peter's tongue pressed deep. "We... oh, Petey... We were
coming back..."

Bowie growled a little, eyes on them like a heavy hand.

"G...g...getting him s...slick." Peter licked again, then rubbed the metal plug against him.

Oh, Bowie had made his sweet twin bold.

"Yes... you do it so well." Bowie sounded pleased, horny again.

Peter chuckled, lips soft and hot against the small of his back. "L...l...l..."

He dug for the lube and handed it back.

"Uh-uh. Don't anticipate." Bowie took the lube. "Maybe he was going to tell you he loved you."

"He was not."

Peter grinned against his ass. Pinched him.

"Peter!"

"W...w...what?"

Bowie chuckled. "I'm going to spank both of you in a minute."

"N...not me. I...I...I'm the g...good one."

He turned, pouncing Peter and rolling them onto the floor.

"Yes, you usually are, Peter. But not tonight." Bowie was suddenly close, growling.

"Now do as you're told, my Pretties, before I have to administer those spankings."

Peter blinked, then whispered in his ear. "W...what were we t...t...t..."

He stroked Peter's hair. His twin would panic if Bowie actually did it. "You put your plug in, and I'll go
find the rings."

Bowie purred. "Being so good, Paul."

Paul looked up at Bowie, pinking, smiling a little, heart fluttering a little.

Bowie's eyes were warm, a soft smile aimed at him. "My pretty Pet."

He didn't know what to do, where to look, so he grinned and scrambled, going to look in the cabinet,
surprisingly close to being undone.

Bowie was crouched next to Peter, watching as Peter pushed the pink plug into his ass; Petey's
cheeks were almost the same color as the plug.

He found two cock rings, leather and supple and comfortable. He hated the pinchy ones.

"Peter's ready for the ring, Paul." Bowie's hand wrapped around Peter's cock, pumping slowly.

He brought them over, handed them to Bowie before he stroked Peter's cheeks.

Bowie took one and fastened it around the base of Peter's cock. "That good, Pretty?"

Peter moaned, pressed close to Bowie, rubbing.

Bowie kept stroking for awhile. "Oh, I'd say that was just about right." Then those green eyes turned
onto him. "Your turn."

Peter nodded, pulled him down into the pile of warm flesh to play. Bowie took kisses from Peter and
then him, alternating back and forth as Peter's hand was guided to his hole. He spread, rubbing
against Bowie's thigh, moaning low as Peter's fingers pressed in.

Bowie's kisses got harder, deeper, almost fierce, taking his mouth with passion. He met that passion
head-on, loving Bowie's need, Bowie's strength. Bowie's fingers joined Peter's, two thick digits
pressing in alongside his Petey's thinner ones.

"Oh. Full." His head rolled, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip.

Bowie licked at his lips and teeth. "You ready to put in the plug, Peter?"

"Y...yes. I...it's heavy, P...paulie."

He moaned, blinked up at Bowie. "Uh-huh."

"Indeed. You want that, don't you, Paul? You want to know that you hold that heaviness, that
hardness inside you for me."

"Oh." He pushed close, so hard, a hot ball of need in his belly as the cool hardness pressed against
him. "Bowie..."

Bowie nipped at his lips. "Right here, Pretty. Right here."

Bowie's hand wrapped around his prick, tugging, thumb sliding across his slit. He groaned, thighs
parting farther, the ball spreading him wide, making him jerk and shudder. Bowie put the ring on at
the base of his cock, the leather soft, giving, holding him tight.

"Oh. Oh..." Peter pushed and his body snapped around the base of the plug, a sharp cry leaving him.

Bowie's purrs slid over his lips, the big hands moving on his skin. Peter settled against his back, hard
cock sliding along his cleft, bumping the plug.

Bowie backed off slightly, stroking himself as he watched them. "Such beautiful boys. I'm the envy of
the club."

"Mal doesn't envy you." He winked and Peter giggled.

"He should. They all should." Those green eyes included him in the warm regard, Bowie still working
his prick.

"Mmm..." He arched, hips rocking, sliding back and forth between them.

"The wand first, I think. And then our bath." Bowie looked beyond him. "What did you do with that
sweet toy, Peter?"

“I...i...it's in the b...bathroom, B...bowie. W...want it?"

He shivered, cock jerking a little.

"I'll get it. You keep your brother warm."

He turned and they pressed together, giving each other long, slow, deep kisses that made him
breathless, dizzy. They knew when Bowie was back, their lover’s purrs filling the room.

"We should move to the bed," murmured Bowie, pulling it from its hiding place in the wall. Bowie
helped them up, both of them moaning, pushing towards their lover. That earned them a heated
growl, Bowie's fingers playing over their asses, their cocks.

Oh, it felt good. Hot. Necessary. "Bowie."

"Right first try," laughed Bowie.

They were laid out on the bed, letting Peter wrap around him from behind. "Are you ready for the
wand, Paul? Ready to fly for us?"

"I... Does it hurt, Bowie? What does it feel like?"

Bowie took his face in those big hands. "Paul. You watched me take it, watched me beg Peter to let
me come, it was so good. Helped carry me, all melted and extremely untoplike, back home. Quit
stalling and let me send you into the stars."

"I'm scared, a little."

Bowie kissed him, tongue sliding between his lips, those green eyes never leaving his.

"Have you never had a wand in before?"

"No. No, Peter didn't want to try."

Peter blushed, ducked his head. "I...I... used to b...be scared a l...lot."

"There no reason to be scared now though, neither of you. I would never do anything I believed
would hurt you -- well, obviously that's not true, but I think you know what I mean. There's physical
pain and then there's emotional pain. That's the one I wish to avoid."

He nodded and so did Peter, both of them pressing close.

"Then trust me, Paul, trust Peter, and let's do this."

"I do. I do, Bowie." He nodded, leaning into the mattress, thighs parting.

Bowie leaned in to lick at the tip of his cock, tongue sliding, pressing into his slit.

"Mmm..." He wiggled, stretched, feeling the heat of Bowie's tongue all through him.

The head of his cock was tugged between Bowie's lips, his lover sucking a moment or two before
backing off.

The wand was quickly lubed up.

"You're enjoying this, Petey," Paul said.

Peter nodded, eyes shining.

Bowie chuckled. "I hope you both are."

Using his fingers, Bowie put a large dollop of lube on top of his prick and pushed it into the slit. Then
came the wand, the end teasing its way in and then fucking whoosh in it went, just like that, gravity
pulling it down.

"Oh. Oh, it..." He wiggled, toes curling. It didn't hurt. It sort of... stung and pushed and...

Oh. Oh. Inside him.

Bowie picked up the controls and, watching him carefully, set the wand vibrating.

He jerked, sensation shooting through him, sharp and undeniable, inescapable. "Bowie! Petey! I..."

"Yes." Bowie's mouth found his, teeth biting at his lips, tongue pushing in strongly.

Shaking, he grabbed his cock, trying to ease the vibration, opening wide for Bowie.

Bowie's hand found his, almost casually, pulling it away from his cock and holding it above his head.

His breath came quick and light, eyes rolling, hand tugging. "L...love. Bowie."

"Yes," murmured Bowie, fingering the controls, making the vibrations harder and then softer and
then back up again. He twisted, hips snapping up, ass clenching around the plug. Bowie hummed,
kissing him softly.

"Peter? Hold Paul's hands over his head for me, please."

"O...okay." Peter moaned, fingers wrapping around his wrists, surprisingly tight.

"Good."

Bowie’s hands stroked down his sides, soothing and arousing at once, fingers of one hand
disappearing now and then to play with the setting of the vibrations inside him.

He whimpered, eyes closed, body on fire. "Bowie. Peter. Please. I... I need to touch."

"N...no. No, Paulie."

Bowie hummed again, licking at his jaw, his ear. "Peter says no. This is for you. Just enjoy it, Paul."

"Bowie. Bowie. I... It's so big. So big." He met Bowie's eyes, so green.

"So is my love for you." Electricity sparked through his cock with the words.

He arched, tears filling his eyes. "Oh, Bowie..."

Bowie lapped at his tears, the wand buzzing and sparking, overwhelming.

He couldn't breathe, couldn't see, couldn't stop moving, muscles tight, vibrating. "I... I'm scared.
Bowie. I can't..."

Everything suddenly stopped and Bowie's mouth covered his, the kiss slow, soft, almost chaste
except for the tongue that tasted him.

When the kiss ended those green eyes were watching him. "I've got you, Paul. Peter and I have you."

"Oh. Have me." He took a deep breath, still trembling, but there. "Sorry. Sorry, Bowie. I got scared."

Bowie nuzzled his neck, rubbed their noses, licked his lips. "I would have been angry if you hadn't
told me, Paul." Bowie kissed him again. "But you did and we have you and now you can fly."

The vibrations started again, another spark lighting through him. "Just let go," whispered Bowie,
undoing the leather that bound his prick.

His hips jerked, entire body rippling, pleasure filling him.

"Show me," murmured Bowie, pulling out the wand, hand massaging his balls. "Show us."

"Yes..." Everything went still, blood rushing in his ears as he dissolved, gave all he was.

Eventually he came back down, the sound of Bowie's purrs all around him, his lover holding him
close, Peter still spooning him.

"Love." Tears slipped from his eyes, pure adrenaline, pure emotion. "I love."

"Yes, pretty Pet. Yes. I love you, Paul."

Those big hands stroked him, held him close, kept him warm, kept him together.

He nodded, let himself dissolve, let himself believe in Bowie's hands.

"I..is he o...o...okay?"

"He's better than okay, Peter. He's melted and safe and warm and ours."

"O...oh." Peter kissed the back of his neck, so gentle. "G...good."

"Yes, very good. My beautiful boys, so good today. You both bring me such joy."

He could hear Bowie kissing Paul and then it was his turn, the words "such joy" repeated, pushed
into his mouth.

He opened up, lips and heart and soul, surrounding himself with his family.

Chapter Fifteen

He'd dreamed about Paulie running away, leaving them, fucking other people, wearing other men's
marks, belonging to other men. So he was growly from the start, every little slight -- intended or not
-- driving him mad, making him snap and lash out. He knew Paulie'd promised. He knew, but if Paul
hadn't run before, he wouldn't be worried now and he was. He was worried.

It took Paul more time to start bitching back than he'd thought. Hell, they weren't screaming until
well after luncheon and the hitting and throwing things waited until the shop was closed.

"What is your problem, Petey?" Paul ducked a volley of ink bottles that pinged off the wall and
rolled. "Hey! I need those!"

"I...I'm t...tired of y...you leaving y...your shit everywhere, you slob!" He hurled a bottle of antiseptic,
watched it bounce off Paul's shoulder.

"I am not. I've been trying. I had..."

Peter didn't want to hear it, just screamed at the top of his lungs and launched himself at Paul, fists
and feet flying. The sound of the door slamming was loud. Bowie's growls were not, though they
were clear enough.

Paul pushed him away, nose bloodied. "Get away from me. Leave me alone."

"Y....you'd like that, w...w...w...wouldn't you? T...to b...b...be able to just g...g...go away again? You
bastard!"

"What the fuck is going on?" Bowie moved to stand between them, giving him a quick once-over
before grabbing a cloth from their workbench and holding it to Paul's nose.

"I don't know, Bowie. I don't know." Paul shook, face bright red.

"L...liar. Y...you've b...b...been b...bugging me a...all day."

Bowie's eyebrow went up. "Paul?"

"I haven't. I haven't."

Peter nodded, pointing at Paul, so mad. "H...have too!" All day and all last night!

Bowie growled again. "I'm not playing this game with you. Follow me."

And with that Bowie headed out, obviously expecting them both to follow.

He leaned forward, hissing. "H...he'll b...believe me. I n...never left."

The sudden tears in Paul's eyes almost made the hurt inside him ease, almost. Then he followed
Bowie, not even looking to see if Peter was behind him.

"Don't make me gag either of you before we get there," growled Bowie, his back stiff as he stabbed
at the button to call the lift.

He didn't say anything, just stood and vibrated, waiting for Paul. He just wanted to stop being so
angry, to go home. They didn't go home, though. When they got into the lift, Bowie pressed the
button for the next floor up, where all the private play rooms were.

Their lover signed them into a room and led the way, all without a word, just the occasional glare
directed at them both.

He followed, ignoring Paul who was lagging behind, eyes on the floor. "B...b....bowie?"

"Unless it's an urgent question, Peter, I'd like to get to the bottom of this first." Bowie's eyes were so
green. Intense.

He shook his head, "I... N...no. N...not u...u...u...urg...gent."

"Good."

Bowie nodded at the twin chains that hung from the ceiling. "You'll both be bound. I'll not gag you
unless you interrupt. You'll each have a chance to tell me your side of what's going on. But I mean it -
- one word without my leave and I'm breaking out the gags."

He nodded and Paul just stood inside the door, face hidden in the dark hair. He walked over to
Bowie, looking for a hug, for comfort.

Bowie gave him his hug, but his lover was still stiff, angry, and he was put into the chains first, hands
in cuffs over his head, feet just barely on the ground. Then Paul was given the same quick hug and
put into the chains across from him.

Paul's eyes were closed, not fighting the cuffs, just hanging there, sort of empty and silent and scary.

"Paul. I want you to go first. I want to know what's going on, what happened today that it ended in
the two of you screaming and hitting each other."

Bowie stood slightly to the side and between them, arms crossed over his chest, looking solid and
immoveable.

"Peter's mad at me. I'm a slob and stuff." The words were flat, emotionless.

"Is that all you have to say?"

Paul nodded, one tear escaping the closed eyes. One of Bowie's hands slid along Paul's belly, the
other across Paul’s face and that tear was collected by one thick finger.

"Your turn, Peter."

"H...he m...m...makes m...me m...m...m...m...mad. He l...l...leave things e...everywhere a...and
st...st...steals the p...pillows and t...teases a...and I...I...I..." He stamped his foot.

"I...I'm mad!"

"What makes today different from any other day, Peter?"

I dreamed he left us again and loved other people. "H...h...he's just a...a...aggravating m...me!"

"Well there must be some reason he's aggravating you today when he's not doing anything more
than what he does every other day." Bowie didn't look like he was in a hurry to be anywhere but
where they were.

"D...doesn't h...he a...aggravate you? H...he's l...loud a...and m...m...messy and a...a...always in
tr...trouble and r...ruining th...things." Except Paul didn't much. Not anymore. Bastard.

Bowie frowned again, gave Paul a look and then came over to him, framing his face in those solid
hands.

Bowie's eyes met his, held his. "This aggravates me, this fighting between you. And I can't remember
the last time Paul was in trouble. Oh, he got spanked, only because it's what we both wanted. Talk to
me, Peter, this isn't like you at all."

"I...I...I...I h...h...h...h...had a dream."

"It must have been a bad one," Bowie said softly.

He nodded. "H...h...h...he r...r...ran a...a...a...away and l...l...l...l...l...l..." He swallowed, shook his
head. "Loved s...someone else."

"Oh, Peter..." Bowie kissed him softly and then stepped aside. "Look. He's right here. Miserable,
because you're fighting. He promised he wouldn't leave again."

Paul just stood there, almost like he was asleep, like he was hiding. From him.

"I..." He didn't know what to say.

Bowie sighed and shook his head. "What a mess."

He got popped on the ass. "You talk to me or to Paul next time you have a problem instead of
turning it into a fight."

Bowie released him, strong fingers massaging his wrists. He nodded, cuddling into Bowie's arms,
wrapping around Bowie's strength and holding on.

Bowie held him a moment and then led him to the pull-out bed, lying him on it. "I have to get your
brother."

He nodded, watched as Bowie moved over to Paul, unhooked the thin arms from the cuffs. Bowie
massaged Paul's wrists and brought his twin over, supporting Paul.

Paul sat on the edge of the bed, eyes and lips and heart still closed off.

Bowie knelt in front of Paul, hands on his face, thumbs stroking his cheeks. "Paul... do you have more
you want to say? You're obviously still upset."

Paul shook his head, cheeks red and hot, lashes wet and it was his fault. Bowie hummed softly, lips
pressing to Paul's, hands sliding on his twin's skin. "I can't read your mind, Paul, much as I think it
would make life easier..."

"I... Sometimes I wonder why." Paul shook his head. "I'm shitty at being good."

"You wonder why you're shitty at being good?"

"No. It doesn't matter. I'm sorry I upset Peter."

Bowie frowned. "No, that's not good enough. From what I can tell you didn't upset Peter, his dream
did. And even if you had, your feelings matter too. Do you really believe that they don't?"

Paul looked at him, the look sort of blank and empty. "I want to go home."

Peter started shaking. Oh. Oh, he'd been mean. "I...I d...d...didn't m...m...mean it, P...paulie. I...I
sh...sh...sh...shouldn't h...have s...said it."

Paul shrugged. "All the truth. I want to go home."

"All right. We can finish this there." Bowie nodded and stood, throwing them each over a shoulder in
a fireman's carry and walking out of the room.

He looked over at Paul, reaching for his twin. "I... Please. P...please. I'm s...sorry."

Bowie didn't say a word, just carried them both like they weren't a burden at all, getting them into
the lift. He shouldn't have ever done it. He knew better. It just... Oh, he was so scrambled, so
confused.

Bowie carried them out of the lift. "One of you hit the door plate," growled their lover.

Paul didn't move, so he did it. "I...I'm so s...s...sorry, Bowie."

Bowie walked in and took them to the bedroom, dumping them both on the bed. "You're
apologizing to me for fighting, yes? Because anything else you owe Paul an apology for, not me."

Peter nodded. "P...p...paul?"

Paul sighed and curled up in the pillows. "'s fine, Peter."

"Is it really?" Bowie asked, hand sliding down along Paul's spine. "Because it doesn't look all right to
me."

"I... Oh, B...b...bowie. I...I was mean. I s...said that y...you would b...believe m...m...me because
P...p...p...paulie left." He shook his head.

Bowie went stiff. "That is mean, Peter. And untrue. Not to mention, I expect both of you to be
honest with me."

He nodded. "I...I...I'm sorry. I a...am."

"Why didn't you tell me and Paul about the dream, Peter?"

"I...I d...don't know. I w...was m...m...mad. I w...wanted to ...m...make h...him mad too."

Bowie growled and shook his head. "The two of you are not five years old and you need to stop
acting like you are."

Paul stood up, nodded. "Bowie's right. I'm going to order food for latemeal."

Peter brushed his cheeks, stomach clenching. "L...love you, ...p...paulie."

"Sit down, Paul. You're not going anywhere."

Paul's eyes flashed, temper and heat and passion visible for a second. "I am trying to be good,
Bowie."

Bowie chuckled. "I know, Paul. But we're not done here. We're not done until you're both loved into
melted piles of pretty."

"I'm not feeling very melty tonight. I feel very... cool."

"Then I'll work on you until you are. I want the two of you on the same page before we leave this
room."

"I...I...I...I...I..." He couldn't find the words, couldn't stop.

Paul shook his head, hand stopping the stutter. "I know. It's okay. Stop saying you're sorry."

"Are you still mad, Peter?"

He shook his head. Then nodded. Then shook his head again. "H...hurt."

"Because Paul left?" Bowie asked.

He nodded. "B...because he w...was in tr...tr...trouble and didn't c...come home. H...he m...missed
our b...birthday!"

"I missed your birthday, too -- you never said anything, Peter. Do you usually do special things?"

His eyes filled with tears and he nodded. Paul had given him the best birthdays ever.

"I...I... W...when it w...was so b...bad. B...before h...he saved me. I...I...I didn't h...have them.
H...h...h...h...h...he saved birthdays."

"Oh..." Bowie sat down, tugged Paul down as well. "You should have said something, Peter."

"W...we w...were busy." Worried. Scared. Looking. Broken.

"I meant before now, after Paul came back. You can't let stuff like this fester, Peter. Look at the mess
it makes."

He looked at Paul, nodding, so sorry. "Missed y...you. S...s...so bad."

Paul sighed. "I know. Don't you think I know? Do you know what I was doing on our birthday? Do
you know how scared I was, Petey?"

Bowie's hand was hot on his shoulder, rubbing, massaging. His other hand was on Paul's shoulder.
"Why don't you tell us, Paul?"

"I was hungry and hurting. I slept on the corner of a street because..." Paul's cheeks got dark, eyes
closing. "I couldn't work. I was bruised too bad."

Bowie growled softly, hand shifting, reaching to stroke one of Paul's cheeks. "I'm the only one
allowed to mark you, Pet."

Paul nodded. "I know. I know, but I was hungry, Bowie. And I'm not licensed to ink outside."

Peter moaned, tears sliding down his cheeks. He didn't want to know this.

"All the more reason to not run away again. We face our problems together, my Pets. Stronger
because we are three working together." Bowie wiped his tears away. "We can face anything
together."

"I'm trying so hard to be good, Bowie. I am."

He nodded, reaching out for Paul, cupping his twin's face.

"Oh, I'd say you've done more than just try, Paul." Bowie purred. "And I'd rather have you here being
bad than running away. I don't think Peter and I could survive without you again."

"You could." Paul ducked his head, nuzzling in. "You both could. I'm just... me."

Bowie shook his head. "No, Paul. You're you. A corner of our triangle. You and Peter alone were
unstable without me. Peter and I were unstable without you. We need you, Paul. Don't doubt that."

Paul looked up at Bowie, eyes so serious. "And you? Were you unstable without us?"

"I was, Paul. I was... half a man. I had no focus, no one to love." Bowie cupped Paul's face again. "I
had no purpose and no reason for my life."

Paul leaned into Bowie's hands, sobbing softly. "It's been a long day."

"Yes. Yes, it has." Bowie grinned suddenly. "Are my boys ready for some loving?"

Peter nodded vigorously and pushed into their arms. Yes. Yes. Yes.

Bowie dropped a kiss on his lips and then one on Paul's lips before bringing all three of them
together for deep, shared kisses.

Oh, his upset and anger faded, eased, dissolved. This was what he'd needed, to feel them all
together.

Bowie leaned back on the bed, bringing them both down with him, cradling them against the strong
body. They fit perfectly, his hand on Bowie's shoulder, Paulie's on Bowie's belly. Those big hands slid
over him, over Paul, warm and good, sliding beneath their clothes to find skin. He met Paul's eyes,

trying to let his brother know how sorry he was,how much he loved. Paul twined their fingers
together, squeezed.

Bowie groaned and rolled suddenly, putting them both beneath the big body. "Undress each other,"
he ordered, voice gruff, needy.

"Bossy." Paul gave Bowie a grin -- half shy, half wicked, and so sexy. Still their fingers worked open
buttons and zippers, pushing away the bright fabric.

Bowie's chuckles were just as needy as his voice had been. "I thought that was my job."

Paul nodded, mouth fastening over his shoulder as his shirt disappeared. Bowie's hands slid over
them, massaging, pressing against his skin and Paul's, hard enough to leave bruises. Paul groaned,
sliding over the sheets, eyes closed, panting. He kept his eyes open, watching, letting himself
remember how lucky he was. Bowie's purrs filled the air, those hands working them both over,
playing with his nipples, Paul's guiche.

"W...w...want..." He pushed into Paul's side, hips rubbing, cock sliding along the soft skin.

"You want to take Paul while I have you, Pet?"

He nodded, hands moving to spread Paul's legs. "W...w...want to l...love you."

Paul spread, nodded. "'kay, Peter."

Bowie slid slick fingers into Paul's body, rumbling. He leaned against Bowie, easing two of his fingers
in alongside, groaning at the heat.

"Mm... smart Pet." Bowie kissed him, free hand stroking his cock.

"H...he's so s...s...s...s...soft inside."

"You both are. My pretty, soft, sensuous Pets. This heat will hold your cock tight, Peter. Just suck you
in and beg for it." Bowie nuzzled his face, words soft and warm against his skin.

He moaned, lips parted as Bowie's words made him tremble. Bowie licked at his mouth and then
took a hard, deep kiss.

"All right, Peter. Paul's ready for you."

He nodded, settled between Paul's legs, reaching out for the familiar face. "L...love you."

Paul kissed his palm. "Yeah. I know, Petey."

Bowie bent to kiss Paul as he slid into the soft, tight heat. Perfect. Oh, so hot. So right.

Perfect. His Paul. His heart. Peter arched, pressing deep, filling his Paul.

Sitting back on his haunches, Bowie slid his hand over his cock as he watched. He leaned down,
letting their bodies rub together, letting their lips meet. Letting it be about making love and saying
sorry and making things better.

He watched for a bit and then shifted, kneeling behind him and two hot fingers pushed into his hole,
used his own momentum to fuck his ass and stretch him. He moaned into Paul's mouth, pushing
harder, faster. Bowie worked quickly, opening him up and then replacing fingers with cock. Those big
hands settled on his hips, held him still for a moment as Bowie's cock sank in.

"Oh..." He shivered, panted, trying not to just lose it. "B...bowie..."

Bowie kissed the back of his neck. "Not yet, Peter. I want to fuck my boys." He nodded, toes curling.
"O...okay. Okay."

Paul chuckled, reached up for his nipple, tugging the ring a little.

Bowie laughed softly, hand reaching past him to play with the rings in Paul's perineum.

"Tease."

"Uh-huh." Paul didn't look even a little sorry.

Bowie licked at his ear, fingers moving to play with Paul's cock. Then his lover pushed him deeper
into Paul. "Now."

They started to move together.

Oh. Oh, he could see why Bowie liked being in the middle. So good, fucking and being fucked. So
very good. Paul moved on his cock, meeting each thrust, their skin slapping together. Bowie's teasing
fingers turned to wrap around Paul's prick and the three of them worked together, the groans and
moans and purrs mixing altogether with the sound of flesh slapping against flesh.

"Love you. Oh. Peter. Harder." Paul bucked, pushing, driving them all. Bowie growled softly behind
him, matching Paul's movements, driving into him, pushing him harder into Paul.

Paul was beautiful, flushed and needing, eyes rolling, lips parted. "S...soon."

"That's right," murmured Bowie, shifting and hitting his gland with the next thrust. "Any time now."

"O...oh!" He jerked, pressed deep. Oh. Yes. Soon. Now. Paul.

The heat of Paul's seed splashed against his belly, sending him over the edge. Bowie roared behind
him, shoving deep and hard, filling him with Bowie's hot spunk. Bowie kept moving, sliding gently in
and out, sending his own prick moving inside Paul, making them shudder and shake. He cuddled
down onto Paul, letting his twin hold him, support him.

Bowie stayed with him, finally stilling and settling down on top of him, careful not to put too much
weight on him and Paul. "My Pretties. So good, so sexy. Love you both."

They both nodded, two identical happy sighs sounding.

Bowie petted them both. "A nap, boys. And then food and then we'll play."

Paul nodded and he did, too, fingers trailing over Paul's eyelids, closing them.

"Good." Bowie hummed a little. "All together."

"T...together." He nodded and cuddled. Together with no more bad dreams.

Chapter Sixteen

Bowie liked his job, he always had. It was peaceful and calm work, working the tension from
muscles, easing bodies. But like he'd told Paul, he was lonely and purposeless before he came here
and found his twin Pets. The work was just a part of his life now.

Chuckling, he finished up his paperwork. Sometimes a part he couldn't wait to finish so he could get
to his pretty Pets.

He'd reserved the evening in their shop, booked it up proper and everything. He had a little
something special planned. It had been at the back of his mind for awhile, but Paul's questioning of
whether or not he needed the twins had him deciding that now was the time to do it.

It didn’t take long to close down his computer, nod a goodbye to the staff and head over to the ink
and piercing shop. He walked into a surprising lack of chaos -- Peter was sitting and sorting jewelry,
Paul busy on a drawing, tongue between his teeth.

Oh, he was well pleased that they could just go ahead with this and not have to sort through
anything first. He closed the door and sent the bolt home.

"Evening, Pets."

Peter smiled up at him, waving. "E...evening, Bowie. H...how was your day?"

"Good. Peaceful. How are my Pretties?"

Paul didn't look up, but nodded, scribbling away. "Been good and busy. There's juice in the back, if
you want some."

"What are you working on?" he asked, sitting in one of the tattooing chairs.

"Trip brought Ghost in for more work -- it's all white, you know? Well, I got an idea for this stylized,
colorful eye. Trip won't want Ghost to have it, but someone'll want it."

"Cool. Do you want to finish it now or can it wait?" He rubbed his hands against his thighs, suddenly
nervous in a way he hadn't been in a long, long time.

Paul looked up, Peter tilting his head at the same time, his boys seeing him.

"It can wait. You okay, Bowie?"

"I am." He was about to ask what was probably the most important question in his life, but he was
good. He opened his arms. "Come sit with me."

Peter bounced over, but Paul took a bit longer, covering the drawing with a piece of paper. He took a
kiss, first from Peter and then from Paul and then from both at the same time and then he cleared
his throat.

"I'd like you each to mark me. Peter -- I want a piercing, something that you've chosen for me. Any
jewelry, anywhere, that's the deal. Paul, the same goes for you and the ink."

It wasn't easy for him, surrendering control like this, giving them carte blanche to put permanent
marks of their choice on him.

Of course that was a part of what made it more than just a gesture.

Two sets of dark eyes stared at him, then his Pets put their heads together and started whispering.
He stroked their backs, waiting, considering for the first time that they might refuse him. He wasn't
sure what he would do if that happened.

The whispers got a little louder and then they both nodded and pounced him, taking a long, hard
kiss, those pretty eyes just shining for him. Oh, he didn't think he was going to have to worry about
being refused. He hummed and let them kiss him, hands holding them close. His pretty boys, his
Pets. His.

Paul pulled away first, heading for his equipment, visibly bouncing while Peter started undressing
him. "G...g...gonna m...mark you, B...bowie."

"Yes. Put your marks on me so everyone knows who I'm with, so there is no doubt." He didn't ask
what they were going to do, trusting them instead to make it what they needed.

Peter got him naked and stretched out comfortably on the chair, soft blanket beneath him.

Then they left him alone, his Pets getting ready for him. He closed his eyes and found his calm,
readying himself for them, opening himself to whatever they were planning. He was eager, wanting
their marks on him, wanting them to know how much he was committed to the three of them.

They settled, Peter between his legs, Paul at his left arm, fingers stroking his bicep. "Do you want us
to talk or just do, Bowie?"

He took another breath and looked at his beautiful boys, smiling, knowing he trusted them
absolutely. "I want you to make the experience yours, ours."

Peter kissed his belly, his hip while Paul carefully shaved his upper arm. "Gonna p...p...pierce you
h...here." Peter's fingers touch the skin at the place where his balls met the base of his cock.
"W...we'll feel it w...when you f...f...fuck us."

He moaned, a jolt of electricity going through him at Peter's touch, at the words, and his cock started
to fill.

Peter nodded happily and held up a bar with heavy balls on either side. "I...it'll feel good."

He took the piece of jewelry from Peter and rolled it in his fingers, smiling and nodding, imagining it
banging against those beautiful asses. He handed it back. "I can't wait to try it out."

Paul shaved his upper arm, humming softly. "It'll be pretty."

"Will we be able to make love right away?" he asked.

Peter nodded and Paul answered, rubbing something slick and soft into his skin. "He'll put some nu-
skin on it and you'll be fine. Won't even hurt."

"I don't mind a bit of pain for my boys."

"The ink'll burn. Don't worry." Paul chuckled. "Okay, now. Deep breath in and then let it all out."

He gave Paul a smile and then took a deep breath, watching as he let it out and Peter went to work.

The needle was a bright sting, but nothing horrible, the barbell a tug and a pull, the anesthesia on
the metal easing the sting immediately as Peter fastened the ends on. He groaned as Peter's gentle
fingers slid along his skin, and he pushed his cock flat against his belly, admiring the heavy barbells.
"It's lovely, Peter, thank you."

Peter nodded, touching it gently, the sensation odd and arousing. "B...b...beautiful."

He shivered, cock jerking. "Thank you, Peter."

"M...m...mine." Peter smiled, nuzzled.

He arched, pushing his crotch against Peter's face.

"What about you, Paul? Are you ready to mark me?"

Paul nodded, picking up his gun and inserting a thin ink tube. "Do you want me to tell you what it's
going to be?"

"I'm as curious as a cat, Pet, but only tell me if you want to. This is your mark."

"I'm going to draw a braided whip -- one green strand for life, one red for love and one white for
forever."

"Oh..." He reached up, stroking Paul's face. "Thank you."

He had to blink back tears, the sudden emotion flooding him. His boys were a handful, but they
loved him so well.

Paul leaned down, lips soft on his ear. "I may not be a great man, but this? I'm good at."

"Men are only great once they're dead." He gave Paul a look full of his need and desire.

"And there's lots of stuff you're good at."

"Shh." Paul smiled, leaned back. "Now, deep breath in and out and I'll start with a little line."

"Yes, Pet." He took his breath and let it go, focusing on Peter, who still sat between his legs.

Peter's eyes were shining, tongue sliding along his shaft as the burn slid over his arm. He groaned,
the twin sensations meeting somewhere in his balls. Paul worked steadily, Peter's tongue distracting
him, driving him mad. He forced himself to remain still, even as he wanted to squirm or thrust into
Peter's mouth.

"This is us, you know? The three of us all twisted together." Paul's voice was as serious as he'd ever
heard it.

He nodded. "Life, love and forever. You, Peter and me."

"H...h...he's got a b...b...beautiful heart, m...my Paulie."

"He does indeed, Peter."

Paul ducked his head, but kept working, the burn making him hard, making his breath come quick
and light. Peter went back to licking and sucking him and he could feel the need traveling along his
spine, spurred by the buzz of the ink gun.

"Don't come until I'm done, Bowie. It'll be worth it." Paul's voice was lovely, warm.

"All right." He took a deep breath and let it go slowly, holding onto his control.

Finally the sound stopped, Paul picking up a spray bottle. "You can come, Bowie."

Then a cold tingle something hit his arm, killing the burn and making him arch. He cried out, coming
just like that, his skin just on fire.

Peter's eyes were filled with tears. "O...oh, Paulie. P...p...p...perfect."

"I want to see." His voice was hoarse, as if well used.

Paul brought a mirror over -- the whip bright and perfect, circling his arm three times.

He gasped. "Oh, Paul... it's perfect." He met the dark eyes, reached for Paul's cheek.

Paul's eyes were warm, pleased. "You like it?"

"I do. Very much. And now I belong to you both." Paul's fingers stroked the piercing in his sac, Peter
investigating the ink. "Well? What do you think?" His voice was husky, need returning.

"You're ours."

Peter nodded. "O...ours."

"Yes, my Pretties. I am yours." He opened his arms again for his boys.

They pressed close, Paul's lips finding his throat, Peter's on his mouth. He purred into Peter's mouth,
fingers searching for the rings his Pets wore.

They rubbed against him, groaning and moaning. Paul's lips found his ear. "Going to make us yours
now?"

"You always have been," he told Paul, turning to nip at his pet's lips.

"You sure?" Paul was laughing, happy, his beautiful boys.

He nodded, reaching out and touching a bruise he'd left on Paul's hip. "Yes. I am."

"Yeah." Paul nodded. "We are too."

"Yes."

He cleared his throat again. He hadn't been planning on doing this -- it was their night to mark him --
but perhaps it was apt that it all happen at once. Together.

"I have collars. For the two of you. To wear."

"Us?"

"R...really?"

"Collars?"

"R...really?"

"Yes, really."

He stroked their cheeks, looking into their eyes. "I would like you to wear them. To show everyone
that you are mine just as I am yours."

They nodded in unison, fingers twining together, dark eyes shining.

"Bring me my pants." The collars were in his pocket. He carried them always.

Peter slid down, grabbed them and handed them over; Paul petting his belly.

He pulled the collars out of his front pocket, holding them out for his pretty Pets. The collars were
each made of three pieces of leather, one green and two brown, braided intricately together. He'd
done the braid work himself, going to Mouse for the locks, which were white gold and both opened
with a single key that he had on a another piece of braided green and brown leather that he could
wear as a necklace.

"Oh..."

Paul and Peter reached out together, fingers trembling.

"Pretty."

"F...fine."

"They lock in place." He pulled out the key from his pocket. "I'll wear the key around my neck, next
to my heart."

Peter looked at Paul, eyes shining. "W...we'll m...match."

Paul nodded. "We're a set, Petey."

He nodded. "There's only one key for both collars."

Peter nodded, holding Paul tight. "I...I...I...I love you. B...both."

Bowie hummed a little. "Yes, I love you both as well."

Paul just nodded, eyes soft, a little teary.

"Let's go home, my Pets. And celebrate our claiming."

Peter helped slide his pants on while Paul slicked nu-skin on his arm.

"I am in the mood tonight for tying you up in ropes of green and red and white and then fucking you
both long and hard."

"Before or after you collar us?" Paul kissed his shoulder and scooted away, cleaning the equipment.

"Hmm... you know, I believe we'll do that first. Right now in fact."

He stood and brought Peter over to where Paul was, demanding his Pretties' attention.

Their eyes were so similar, more and more so as Peter grew strong and Paul relaxed, learned to trust
him.

"So beautiful. I know that I am honored to be marked by the two of you, proud to belong to you. And
just as proud that you belong to me. Wearing my collars will let everyone know that you are mine,
that I have taken you forever."

"Forever? Really? Both of us?" Paul gave him a wondering smile, eyes full. "Even me?"

"Didn't I say we were strongest as a triangle? I need both of you. Not one or the other. Both."

He put Paul's collar on first, the click of the lock closing loud. He nodded with satisfaction. "Mine."

"Yours." Paul's fingers slid around the collar. "Yours."

Peter smiled nodded, chin lifting eagerly for him. He put Peter's collar on as well, nodding again as
the lock closed audibly. "Also mine."

"Y...yours." Peter grinned, kissed him.

He purred, kissing Peter and then Paul and then both of them.

"Home," he ordered, needing, wanting to see them wrapped in his ropes.

He handed over the leather necklace with the key and bent his head. They put the key over his head,
two lips kissing the top of his head.

"Home, Bowie."

"Y...yeah."

"Yes, my pretty Pets. Home."

He put an arm around each of them and led them home.

end