“Damn, kid, don’t you ever go to school?”

Ethan blinked up from his phone screen as his stepfather came into the kitchen, his eyes lingering for a moment on the man’s tattooed arms. “Summer vaca,” Ethan mumbled, ducking his head back down and hiding behind his box of cereal as the man made his way to the stove top and began cooking up a late breakfast. “Don’t you have work?” He asked, not really expecting an answer. Jeff didn’t talk much. The guy had moved in six months ago after a whirlwind engagement and besides hanging out in the adjoining garage painting all day, Ethan rarely saw the man outside of the occasional times Jeff would try and catch up with him.

He was kind of glad the guy was so busy. Jeff unsettled the fuck out of him.

“I’ve actually been up since dawn. Just grabbing something to eat before I get back to the canvas. Got that gallery showing in a week and I need to get some last minute touchups done before framing.”

Ethan nodded to himself, having a bite of his now soggy cereal while sneaking a peek at the man. Jeff was still in his pajamas, wearing a pair of black flannel night pants and a black wifebeater that was flecked with spots of paint. He wasn’t wearing shoes—the man rarely did while around the house. Both of his arms were covered from shoulder to wrist in tattoo’s, his tanned skin colored in elaborate, geometric patterns in blue, gold, and black ink. It was apparently inspired by one of Jeff’s own paintings. A badass painting if he was to go by the man’s bulging biceps.

Ethan’s new stepfather was a lot of eye candy. With his piercing blue eyes and brown, shoulder-length wavy hair, the guy could have been a model. He had the body for it—tall, lean, and buff—as well as the not giving a fuck attitude. Jeff always looked like he was two days late to shave, a light fuzz prickling at his jaw and neck, and he rarely dressed up beyond jeans and a t-shirt. He was also one of those health nuts, having filled their refrigerator with tons of fresh, organic produce when he moved in, his blender heard before any of the alarm clocks went off.

“You looking for a job?”

Ethan ducked his head back down, shaking it silently when the man glanced over at him from the stove. He tried to lose himself in his video game but couldn’t stop from being distracted by Jeff’s presence across the room. The thing was, Ethan didn’t like guys. He was pretty fucking sure. But it was really hard to look away from Jeff whenever the man was around. There was just something about the guy that drew his eye and kept him looking. Like his colorful biceps. Or the way the man’s thin pants clung to his sculpted ass.

It was unsettling. Confusing. Ethan just couldn’t stop getting hot whenever around his stepfather and it had been going on for months now.

“You need a job, kid. An internship. Something. You going to waste your life hanging around the fucking house all the time?”

Ethan looked up when his cereal box was suddenly taken away, watching as Jeff placed a plate with an omelet in front of him, the man nudging his bowl of cereal aside on the kitchen island to make room. “You also need to start eating some actual food. There is no way there are enough calories in that sugary shit to even get you out of your chair. I don’t know how the hell you get through your soccer games on this shit.”

Jeff was damn near intimidating when up close, the man’s face predatorial and eyes stunning as they met his. He was also bisexual, something Ethan’s mom had mentioned in passing and now he couldn’t stop thinking about. Ethan nearly dropped his phone, quickly grabbing the fork that was pushed his way to hide his tremor.

“Your mother ever teach you how to cook?” Jeff asked, cocking his hip and leaning against the island while he waited for Ethan to try the food. The hem of the man’s shirt was stretched over his hips in a way that revealed a flash of tanned abs and a sparse trail of hair leading beneath his pants. It was very distracting.

Ethan really wished the guy would look somewhere else so he could fucking breathe and stop feeling like an idiot already. He shook his head silently, finally giving in to his stepfather and scooping some food onto his fork. “Shit—I mean, this is really good. Uh, sir. T-Thank you.”

Jeff raised a brow at the stuttering boy, silently mouthing the word ‘sir’ to himself. His gaze slid down to where the blond had just nearly dropped his fork. “Well?”

Ethan jolted, looking up, the utensil now caught between his lips. “Um…?”

“Did Leah ever show you how to cook?” Jeff repeated, a slight smile curling the edges of his lips when Ethan began to flush.

“My mom’s not… She doesn’t cook,” Ethan mumbled, reaching for his phone with his other hand in the hopes of ending this absolutely alarming conversation where his stepfather looked at him and kept asking him about stuff.

“You wanna learn how?” Jeff prompted, watching as the blond boy tried to hide behind the small cell phone screen and eat another bite of food at the same time. “Seeing as you’re going to be around all day, and I do try to make it a point to eat.”

Ethan shrugged, grunting something noncommittal.

Jeff was not deterred, the man’s fingers curling around the boy’s wrist to guide his hand away from his face. When Ethan looked up, only blushing brighter now, he added, “And while I’m showing you how to cook, you can fill out some job applications.”

The man’s words sinking in, Ethan scowled, pulling his hand away to rest it on the table instead. His wrist felt like it was tingling where Jeff had touched it, an annoying distraction as he tried to state his case for not needing any job now that he had gotten his last year of high school out of the way.

“I don’t want a job. I’m starting college in a couple of months and I just want to chill for a bit before all that.”

“What, are you ancient? Decrepit? Eat your omelet.” Jeff turned away, going back to the stove and cracking more eggs into a bowl and whisking them with a fork. “You’re going to want money, right? You’re going to want to hang out with your friends. Gas cost money, kid. Concerts, food, the mall—Believe me, you’re going to want a job.”

“Really, I’m not,” Ethan muttered, glaring at his plate. He had only just started to feel the freedom of being out of school. All he wanted to do was hang out with his friends and maybe his house. “My mom will pay for all that shit.”

Jeff snorted, the trash bin rattling as he threw the eggshells into the wastebasket. “Like fuck, she will. Leah does enough without needing to pay for your lazy ass.”

“I’m not lazy,” Ethan said with a growl.

“Oh, did you pay for that $600 phone your face is always glued to? What about the nearly $100 a month it costs so that you can text your friends your every riveting thought as you have them? The motorcycle you’re driving or the insurance that allows you to do so?” Jeff turned, pointing the spatula at him when Ethan stood, the boy getting ready to escape. “What about rent? All that cardboard food you keep eating? Just where do you think the money for all that comes from? Not your schooling.”

Pursing his lips, Ethan crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not lazy. I’m just a kid.”

Jeff scoffed. “Not anymore, you aren’t. I don’t get why Leah didn’t have you working through summers. It’s time to grow the fuck up and start contributing. I’m not painting every day to keep your ass in designer jeans, kid.”

Glaring, a million scathing retorts swirling in his head, Ethan opened his mouth but nothing came out. Jeff’s eyes were blazing, the man unblinking and deceptively calm as he just stared him down. “No one asked you to buy me anything,” Ethan finally muttered, unable to meet the man’s glare any longer. He liked it, though. A part of him liked that Jeff cared enough to lend him money for things. His mother was never around but Jeff was, even if the guy didn’t talk to him as much as he’d like. Ethan had never had a dad before and Jeff was the closest thing to perfect in a lot of ways when it came to things like that.

“Hm.” His eyes narrowed, Jeff turned back to the stove, flipping his omelet before it started browning. “Don’t go running off until you eat. I don’t think you’ve had more than pizza and Cheetos this entire week.”

Sighing in exasperation, Ethan sat, glaring at the man’s back. Only to have his eyes inadvertently slide down, his gaze caught on Jeff’s ass when the man leaned over to grab the salt and pepper shakers. It was a decidedly interesting ass; firm, symmetrical and muscular. He hadn’t really known that he liked muscular asses but he definitely liked Jeff’s.

“You interested in anything in particular?”

Ethan jumped, his eyes snapping up. But the brunette was only looking at the pan, poking it with his spatula. “What?”

“For work. You have anything in mind you’d like to do?”

Ugh. “Play video games,” Ethan said flippantly.

“Cute. I’m sure people just hand you money for that shit.”

“Coming from the artist,” he muttered, stabbing at his omelet. That it was about the best thing he had tasted in as long as he could remember didn’t help his mood at all. “People pay you to hang out around the house painting pictures.”

“Not exactly.” Plating his food, Jeff turned the stove top off and poured himself a glass of fresh juice before sitting across from Ethan at the kitchen island.

“People buy a product from me. Now some pay for a service if they want to hire me to paint as a demonstration, or to design a mural, tattoo, whatever. But for the most part, I create something and people buy a print or the original. That’s how I can get away with hanging around the house all day; I’m selling even when I’m asleep. That doesn’t mean I don’t have to work it for clients at galleries and meetings that get my art on walls where people can see. Renting out one of my paintings to a business requires me to do more than just paint, but it’s worth the money that comes in. Half my income this month was just on rented paintings. They’re not even new pieces but they can pay the bills if you know what you’re doing.”

Ethan really didn’t want to care just how Jeff made his money. Unfortunately, he was finding it interesting and he sighed again, daring to look up at the man. Jeff’s head was ducked, a long lock of wavy hair brushing over one of his eyes, his mouth open as he took a bite of his breakfast. The man had ridiculously lush lips, full and red. Combined with his sharp features and strong jaw, he really was just the epitome of male beauty. Ethan idly wondered what it would be like to kiss those lips. They probably weren’t as soft as they looked. With Jeff’s bristle, it might even be prickly, a little rough.

Glancing up, Jeff caught Ethan staring at him, the boy immediately looking away. “You pick a major yet?”

Ethan shook his head weakly, hating how flustered he felt. “Mom said she was going to help.”

“Yeah, well waiting for Leah to pull herself from her work is like watching paint dry.” Jeff smiled grimly. “I can help you if you want. I’m surprisingly good at that kind of shit.”

Glancing his way a moment, Ethan shrugged. “Okay. Um, maybe tonight? Once I get back from hanging with my friends. I was thinking of something business oriented.”

He couldn’t help but wonder how quickly it had taken for Jeff to figure out just how unavailable his mother really was. It would probably still take the man a good year to realize she wasn’t going to change. And seeing as he married her, he might even stick it out longer trying to make it work. He was young still; he might think it was worth putting the effort in.

Ethan hoped he would. Not because he wanted to see Jeff break his heart but because he really liked having the man as a stepfather. Jeff was cool. Scary, but cool. Ethan had never had anyone actually care about him and even though Jeff breezed in and out most of the day between painting, the man was always saying and doing stuff that made it clear he gave a fuck. He was a calming presence. Sturdy and reliable. Ethan wasn’t used to having something like that and he’d be really pissed if his mother ruined it for him.

His mother had tried this time, he knew that much. Jeff was very different from what Leah usually dated. He was self-driven and had interests outside of just their relationship—Really important seeing as Ethan’s mother lived for her work and her last three relationships had failed because she couldn’t put enough time or energy into them. She was always at the office and when she was home, her head was at the office, planning new ideas, designing new rooms and buildings.

Leah Walde was an architect, a highly sought after one, and she had started her own firm ten years ago. Jeff had actually been commissioned to create a portrait of one of her more famous buildings and that was how they had met. That Jeff could balance his creativity with business savvy had been a good fit for Leah, even if Jeff didn’t have much interest in doing much beyond supporting himself so that he could continue his painting. It was still a step up from the last guy who had thought he was going to be some sort of jobless house husband.

“Any thoughts on what you want to learn how to cook for tonight?” Jeff asked, having a sip of his juice.

Ethan couldn’t help but stare; a droplet of moisture dripping from his stepfather’s mouth to trickle down his chin. God, what was wrong with him? He blinked, finding Jeff staring at him with a raised brow, the man waiting patiently for an answer. Ethan really didn’t have one. “Um, whatever you feel like eating, I guess.”

Grinning wickedly, Jeff put his glass down, leaning close and crooking his finger. “Careful there. I don’t think you could stomach half the things I eat, kid.”

His breath curling hot around his ear, Ethan’s breath hitched. He glanced Jeff’s way, feeling stupid as fuck when he caught the man still smiling. His eyes were sparkling at him, flashing with some hidden laughter that was making him feel hot inside. For a frozen eternity, he was certain the man was flirting with him and he had no idea how to respond.

Thankfully, Jeff seemed oblivious to his panic, the man reaching over and patting Ethan’s shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t worry, kid, I won’t make you eat anything too healthy and green. Seeing the diet you’re coming from, I wouldn’t want to overwhelm your system with anything of substance.”

“Oh.” Gnawing on his bottom lip, Ethan slowly sank back in his seat, hoping his cheeks would stop burning soon. He had a sip of his soda, his gaze inadvertently drawn to his stepfather again. “Um… So, like, when did you know you were bi?” Ethan asked daringly, his heart feeling trapped in his throat once he got the question out.

Moving in a way that seemed just a little too casual, Jeff placed his fork down. “Young. Younger than you are.” He met Ethan’s curious gaze, his head tilting slightly. “Why? Does my sexuality make you uncomfortable?”

“Jesus, only when you say it like that,” Ethan muttered, covering his face with his hand for a moment. He peeked out, combing his fingers through his short blond locks. “Just… Did you know at the same time? Or was it, like, you liked one and then realized you liked the other later?”

Considering the question a moment, Jeff finally answered after having another drink of his juice. “Both. I had at least half a dozen crushes back then and it was pretty easy for me to see that gender was not a barrier for my attraction.”

“So bi people, they all know, like, at the same time, then? Like, if you’re going to be bi, you’re definitely going to know when you start getting crushes. It doesn’t, like, change?” Ethan asked nervously, his fingers twisting at his placemat.

“I’m not sure that would be the way I’d word it,” Jeff said carefully, studying his stepson’s face while Ethan bit his lip and looked at the table. “I think attraction is based on more than just a body, and sometimes when all the right elements come together, you might just find yourself looking at someone you weren’t expecting to be looking at.”

His brows furrowing at the answer, Ethan forced himself to look the man in the eye. “I’m not talking about love or shit. I’m not saying people can’t, like, fall in love and overcome gender or what have you. I just want to know if, you know, you can suddenly be attracted to…” He trailed off, waving his hand nervously.

“Are you worried you’re going to wake up wanting to suck cock?” Jeff asked blandly.

“Now you’re just being an asshole.” Scowling and beyond embarrassed, Ethan stood, more than ready to get away from this man that flustered the fuck out of him on so many different levels. “I don’t think there is anything wrong with gay people. That’s not what I was—”

“Sit your ass down, brat,” Jeff ordered quietly. “Did I say there was anything actually wrong with sucking cock?”

Ethan paused and glared at the man, his brain unfortunately now stuck on the question of if his stepfather had ever sucked cock and what that might look like. A beat later and he sat back down, his leg bouncing nervously. “I just want to know if you can, well… Like a…” He couldn’t say it and was only feeling more upset by the fact because it was Jeff he was trying to explain it to.

“Can you suddenly like someone of the same gender and still like the opposite sex as well?” Jeff supplied when Ethan seemed unable to continue on.

Pursing his lips, Ethan nodded sharply. “But more, can you just, like, suddenly like someone of the same gender. When you never did before. Not ever.”

“Not ever?” Jeff repeated, his eyebrows rising in disbelief.

“Not ever,” Ethan repeated sternly, daring him to call him a liar.

“Well, I’ve only ever had my own experiences to compare to, but if this has happened to someone, I’m pretty sure it’s not the end of the world.” He flashed the boy a comforting smile, placing his elbow on the table so he could lean his chin on his hand. “It’s not like this person would have to act on anything just because he felt something new. People get crushes all the time and don’t act on them.”

Ethan nodded, fairly certain Jeff had no idea just who he was crushing on by the casual air the man was giving off. “But it’s, like, normal?”

“As normal as the huge range of human sexuality can get.”

“But is it bi?” Ethan added, his expression again growing tense.

“It’s whatever that person wants it to be. A fluke. A one-time attraction… Or maybe it’s bi, and they’re just finding out.” Jeff’s smile had only grown, his eyes sparkling, and Ethan was feeling decidedly uncomfortable with just how nice the man looked with his perfectly white teeth.

“Stop smiling at me like that. I never said it was me,” he grumbled, grabbing his plate and jumping up to rinse it in the sink.

“Did I say I thought it was you?” Jeff asked, his smile now beaming. “Shit, are you going to start calling me dad now?”

“Fuck off,” Ethan snapped, grinning despite himself. “You’re lucky I call you sir.”

“Yeah, could you not do that? It’s weird—Children of the Corn weird. That would be a movie you’ve never heard of, by the way.” Jeff stood as well, stepping up behind Ethan at the sink with his empty plate in hand. “Just call me Jeff. ‘Hey you,’ if you’re feeling lazy.”

Ethan was having trouble focusing, Jeff standing far too close for him to notice anything else. God, it might be ‘normal’ but it was still really annoying to feel so fucking hot over someone. “Here, just…” He turned, taking the plate and fork from the man, nearly dropping both when their fingers brushed accidentally. Spinning back, he quickly washed them and put them in the dryer rack, his heart racing too fast in his chest. God, he hated this. Fucking hated it.

Jeff had stepped around the island and was drinking the last of his juice when Ethan finally got up the nerve to turn around. The faucet off, he crossed the kitchen to grab his phone.

“I start cooking around 6:30,” Jeff said, Ethan pausing mid-stride.

“Right. Um, I’m going to meet my friends tonight. Like, eightish.”

“Alright. It’s a plan.”

Nodding, Ethan edged to the door, slipping through with a quick backward glance. Jeff was staring back at him and for a frozen moment their eyes met, Ethan’s heart racing in response.

God, he really needed to get over this thing.

***

Son of a bitch. Bi? Was the kid bi now? Why did Ethan have to tell him he thought he might be bi? What was he trying to do to him?

Groaning inwardly, Jeff pressed both his hands on the kitchen island, leaning heavily over the countertop as he willed his erection down. One fumbling touch from the kid’s hand on his and he had gotten hard. Not good. Really not good.

Talking to Ethan had been a terrible, terrible idea. Sure, he had known he was being too antisocial and that he was worried the kid would start thinking he hated him. Leah hadn’t been around in forever, and he was pretty sure the kid had no adult supervision in his life but fuck… Fuck.

The things he would do to Ethan Walde if he hadn’t married the boy’s mother.

He was too young for him, didn’t know shit about life—And only ten minutes ago, decidedly straight. Many very good reasons Jeff had focused on whenever he found himself in the same room as the young man. But Ethan was also fucking delicious. He had soft, golden hair and wide, clear, green eyes, flawless skin and his average height was already filled out with muscle from his competitive soccer playing. That summer vacation had started and Ethan seemed content to haunt the kitchen and living room most hours of the day, half the time without a shirt on, had become a special type of hell for Jeff.

Cooking lessons? The kid needed to learn how to cook—to eat—but shit, why the fuck had he suggested cooking lessons? Knives and fire and the two of them in the somewhat cramped kitchen? Alone.

Dumb. Really fucking dumb.

He needed to get laid. That was all. He had gone into this thing with Leah with a predefined understanding that he needed sex more than she did and that she was more than happy to let him go out and get it as long as he was safe about it and he was home for the weekends to do family stuff. Of course, it had turned out that he had no problem being home on the weekends while Leah couldn’t seem to find her own house. Jeff hadn’t gotten around to checking out his options in the area. He had moved to a new town for Leah and although he was enjoying his large art studio, he hadn’t done much outside of the house besides grocery shop and jog in the morning. Something that was going to have to change if his sexy-ass stepson was hanging around all summer. And now bi.

The kid needed a job. Like yesterday.

Jeff could only hope that whatever reason Ethan had been looking at him strangely the last few weeks had to do with that conversation and would finally stop. The staring had been the icing on the shit cake of this insane situation. Ethan was probably just curious about the bi thing. More than a few guys were curious about the bi thing. It used to be the quickest way for Jeff to get a straight guy into bed—Just tell him he was bi and let him ask a million questions until he explained how much easier it was just to show than tell.

Not something he could do with Ethan. Not something he should even be fucking thinking about doing with the kid. Stepson. Young, naive, and very much off-limits for anything.

Hot, though. Really fucking hot. He had great nipples, the perfect size, pink spots just begging to be kissed, licked and then nipped sore. And his neck—he wanted to coat the boy’s long throat with his cum until it dripped down his toned torso like a pearly, dirty river. And if Ethan wanted to call him daddy while he was doing it, well, that would be more than fine with him.

“Jesus, get it the fuck together,” Jeff grunted to himself, his body lighting up with heat and his cock again hardening until it was pressed up against the side of the island.

It was time to start checking out his fucking options in the area. There was a bar within walking distance; some pool joint where he’d seen a mix of ages and sexes go in. He just needed to fuck something—preferably a hot twink that could pass for half his age so he could get this out of his system. Until then, he was going to have to settle for his hand and get the fuck back to work. He had a set of three paintings that Leah had commissioned from him for one of her older clients. It was guaranteed money and a potentially lasting connection if he got it all done in time and kissed ass well enough. That on top of his gallery opening in a week had him completely swamped. He couldn’t be wasting his time fantasizing about fucking his sexy-ass stepson.

His mother’s green Toyota was crowded with Liem in the passenger seat. Sure, the apprentice was slender and petite and took up less space than Ky did, but it felt weird. Wrong. Ky wasn’t remotely comfortable around Liem after what he did to Brave, the terrible things he said to him, or how he tried to steal Magnificent Night. He and Liem might share a common goal at the moment, but Ky would be hard pressed to call him friend. He could barely think of Liem as human; he was that cruel and ever ready with a lie or trick.

“So, what’s your sorcerer teacher like?” Ky asked in the hopes of breaking the awkward silence between them. He insisted on driving even though Liem wanted to teleport them. Ky didn’t have a clue how to teleport. Being reliant on the apprentice for transportation while in a foreign place could be outright dangerous, no matter how many times Liem rolled his eyes at him like he was an idiot.

“My master.” Liem turned his head from the window to look at Ky. “Master Tobias is a master sorcerer and has earned his title. It’s important you address him properly.”

“I’m not calling him fucking master.” Ky’s glare dared Liem to challenge him on it. As the sorcerer who trained Liem, Tobias was probably just as bad, maybe even more.

“Then refer to him as Master Godwin—because he’s a master sorcerer, not because he’s your master, idiot,” Liem added when Ky made a noise of protest. “This is normal stuff, man. You just don’t know because you’re ignorant as fuck.”

Ky bit his tongue and gripped the steering wheel painfully tight as he took the next corner. Night was dark around them, and the quiet streets of Blackstone Falls extra empty at the current hour. If he tossed Liem out the car and kept driving, he doubted anyone would be able to prove it.

“Does he have a lot of apprentices?” Ky asked tightly, trying to derail his angry thoughts.

“Fuck, no. Do you think a guy like Master Tobias has time to teach every snot-nosed sorcerer wanna-be who figures out how to make a wand?” Liem snorted. “I’m his very first. He put it off for ages because he was so caught up in building his business. Being selected is a real honor.”

“Business?” Ky tore his eyes from the road to glance over at the slim apprentice. Liem looked deceptively young and sweet for all the terrible just beneath his surface. “Like a magic business?”

“Sure, but better. Any two-bit sorcerer can start a magic business,” Liem said with a wave of his hand. “Master Tobias trains demons, and only for the most important of people. Diplomats, CEO’s, celebrities. He’s about as famous as it gets for this particular thing.”

Ky inhaled deeply as his stomach twisted in an uncomfortable knot. “What… What do these people want demons for? They’re not sorcerers. What do they do with them if not use their magic?”

“Protection, mostly. Demons make great bodyguards if they’re trained right. Some people just like that the demons are rare and no one else has them.” Liem shifted in his seat and hunched forward until his bangs covered his eyes. “And some people like to fuck them. Some want to kill them, or just nearly. A demon can take a lot more pain than a human. You can do anything to a demon, and the law won’t get involved. Demons have no rights. Hell, most people don’t even know they exist. If Master Tobias didn’t spell them so people could see, normal people would never know a demon was standing right beside them.”

Ky’s stomach lurched, and his knuckles turned white from the tension in his hand. “Slavery. Your master is a slaver of demons.”

Liem raised a brow and glanced his way. “Well, yeah, demons are rare. Did you think they’re allowed to walk around everywhere? People would be fighting each other to get them. It would be chaos.”

Ky snarled and abruptly slammed his foot on the brake. The car fishtailed in a squeal of tires, then jerked roughly to a stop. The hum of crickets filled the air as they sat on the dark road. “You mean people would be running around shitless because all the demons would be hunting down the asshole sorcerers who sold them into slavery. Being from another world doesn’t justify what you’re doing to them!”

Liem huffed and shrugged back against his seat. “When you meet Master Tobias, you’ll understand. No demon is going to fight him; they know he’s stronger. He’s killed more demons than I’ve seen in my entire life, and that was just during my apprenticeship with him. At least the demon slaves are allowed to live.”

Ky stopped trying to get his shaking hands to cooperate, hissed, and shot Liem a deadly glare. He paused when he found Liem staring out the window, a haunted expression on his young face.

“Do you want to kill demons?” Ky dreaded the answer before the question was fully out.

Liem considered it stonily and slowly shook his head.

“Then what? Power? Do you like hurting them? What the hell do you want from them, Liem?”

“Nothing.” Liem stared intently at the darkness outside the car. “I hate them. I’d be happy if I never saw another demon ever again.”

Ky tried to read Liem’s expression when he refused to explain himself. It didn’t matter; Liem was fucked, did fucked up things, and whatever was wrong he probably brought on himself.

Ky turned his attention to the road and resumed driving. The idea of confronting this Tobias Godwin was making him more uneasy after what he learned. As his nerves grew taut, his foot pressed heavier, and the car’s speed climbed on the empty back roads. Brave was alone with some sort of demon slaver, one who murdered demons like they were nothing. This was the man who had taught Liem demons were less than human. What would such a man do when he was asked to give up one of his demons?

Ky gripped the black link connecting him to Brave and held it tight in his grasp. He was still alive. If Liem was telling the truth, as long as this link was on his collar it meant Brave was still alive.

Ky’s heart raced as he surged forward. He was terrified Liem would magic Magnificent Night away in an instant. When he slammed into Liem’s petite form with all intentions of beating the crap out of him, it took him too long to see the coil of black whip up. Liem might have gotten a collar around Magnificent’s neck, but the demon wrapped his tail around Liem’s just as quickly.

“Magnificent.” Ky froze and stared with wide, silver eyes as Magnificent lifted Liem off the chair with his tail and held him tight by the neck. Lovely appeared next to Ky, and behind him he heard Feral on the stairs blocking escape. The room grew dark at the edges the longer Ky stared. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from Liem’s red face as it quickly turned purple, the teen’s expression twisted in terror and pain.

This was his fault; Ky knew it. If Magnificent killed Liem, it was his fault. Ky failed to protect the requiem; he failed to keep a monster like Liem away from the three Relics in his care. If Magnificent killed the awful apprentice, Ky wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to forgive himself. He let Liem in the house. He ignored every fucking intelligent reason to turn him away and because of it, Magnificent was forced to defend his life.

“Magnificent, please.” Ky walked past Liem, who was clawing at the tail wrapped like a coil of black rope around his neck. Magnificent Night’s eyes glowed power while he glared into Liem’s frightened face and raised him higher. Liem’s legs flailed in the air while choked gasps escaped his lips. His whimpers silenced when Magnificent gripped tighter. Ky didn’t know what he felt at the idea of Liem dying. He did know what was right and what was wrong; this was wrong.

“Magnificent, I’m going to take him away. Right now. Just let him go, and I’ll take him out of the house and never let him in again.”

Ky waited the longest minute of his life. Did he truly know Magnificent Night? Ky couldn’t speak his language; they came from two completely different worlds. All Ky really knew about Magnificent was Anselm captured him, and when he died the overseer Demencious chained him. For years, Magnificent was trapped in this basement while other Relics were murdered and eaten in front of him. It would be easy for him to be a monster after such a life, maybe even expected. Demons were powerful and killing came easy for them. Chained and weakened, Magnificent was still far stronger than Liem. The apprentice was a frail, helpless child compared to a Requiem.

“Please, Magnificent,” Ky whispered beseechingly. He reached his hand out to caress the demon’s grim expression. He should have been afraid; Ky knew he was an absolute idiot when it came to the Relics. Still, he had to try. He couldn’t bear if his fuck up led to Magnificent having to take a life. “You don’t need to kill anyone. I’m so sorry I made you feel like you needed to. Please, let me fix this.”

The furious glow in Magnificent’s eyes faded as his gaze moved to Ky’s upturned face. Ky sighed in relief when the demon uncoiled his tail from around Liem’s neck. Liem fell to the ground and collapsed, gasping for air.

“Thank you. Thank you.” Ky’s voice cracked with the flood of emotion moving through him. He tore the collar from Magnificent’s neck and flung it across the room. He wasn’t sure where to direct his rage; Liem who came into his house and tried to capture Magnificent Night like he was a bug in a jar, or himself, who was so dumb he trusted the awful teen enough to let him in the house in the first place. God, he was fucking it all up. He just met his first sorcerer apprentice and nearly let the asshole die.

Although, given how Liem tried to kill him just last night, Ky wasn’t about to spill any tears over it.

“Ky!” Lovely hissed. Ky whirled from Magnificent to discover Brave. The wolf demon appeared in the basement when summoned by the fallen Liem. Brave growled and hovered protectively over his young master as he pulled him across the room away from danger. The two demons glared at each other warily, Lovely a bristling white glow of long, silvery hair, cat ears and claws while Brave was hulking, scarred muscle and dark whirl of hair. Brave snarled and snapped razor teeth when Lovely stepped menacingly toward him.

“Stop,” Ky ordered roughly. He wasn’t sure who he was talking to anymore; he just wanted it all to fucking stop. Brave was injured; blood crusted his handsome face, and the flesh beneath his collar was raw, red, and oozing yellow fluid that dripped over the fresh bruises and cuts on his body. It was his punishment for being linked to Ky; there could be no other reason.

Ky’s stomach plummeted as he remembered his conversation with Lovely about the link. Nausea was a hot wave that threatened to overwhelm him. Liem punished Brave for something he hadn’t even done. Ky created the link with his will, not Brave. His ignorance and inability to control his magic directly led to Brave being harmed.

Liem unsteadily pushed up on his knees. His eyes shined bitter tears as he pointed accusingly at Ky. “Fido, kill! Now!”

Lovely hissed warningly, but it was Feral’s growl, loud and full of death, that froze everyone in the room. The bronze-skinned coyote demon slinked from the shadows. With deliberate steps he crossed the room and took an aggressive stance in Ky’s defense.

Liem gaped up at the new black feathered demon. Hatred twisted his features as he whirled back to Ky. “Three? You have three fucking archons? Two of the things aren’t even collared, and they just answer to you!”

“They’re not things,” Ky replied hollowly. He couldn’t tear his eyes from the blood on Brave’s face. The wolf demon’s ear was torn, not from a blade but from something dull. A piercing pulled from his flesh. This morning, Liem rang his doorbell and pretended to apologize while only minutes before he brutalized and tortured this poor Relic. How could he have ever been so blind?

Liem scrambled to his feet. He held his palm upright, and a wand immediately appeared within his grasp. “Fuck. Three winged demons belong to that weak, stupid, demon loving freak! Fido, I said kill the stupid fuck! And so help me, if you fail this time, you better fucking die because I’m going to make you wish it!”

Brave didn’t move. His lips pursed in a thin line as he met Liem’s furious glare with one of cold indifference. Lovely went to stand between Ky and the wolf demon, but Ky stopped him.

“Brave’s not going to hurt me. He doesn’t want to hurt me, so he won’t.” Brave’s intentions radiated through the black link on his collar. His connection to Ky wasn’t as deep as Lovely’s, but they were still linked. Brave didn’t want to hurt him, and Ky could feel it.

“Fucking, son of a… His name is Fido! Fido!” Liem gritted out. “He’s mine, not yours, you fucking weirdo, and he has to do what I say!” Liem’s breath was heavy with rage as he shot a burst of magic at Brave. The wolf demon yelped and fell backward from the blow. “Now fucking listen to me!”

The room pulsed red around Ky. He didn’t even know he moved. One moment he heard Brave cry out in pain and the next he was across the room. His hand throbbed in aftershock from where he slapped Liem across the face. “Grow the fuck up!”

Liem clutched his burning cheek and stared at Ky in shock. His wand was limp in his hand. “Y-You…”

“That’s not the way to do things!” Ky shouted. “You’re just some stupid, spoiled child with too much power who can’t see demons are people. They’re not fucking toys. They don’t exist to do what you want. They’re people!”

Ky’s outrage grew until he was gasping for breath between words. Liem continued to stare at him dumbfounded; it was too much. “You never should have been bonded to someone as beautiful as Brave. All you’ve done is hurt a being who would have been grateful to have someone understand him in this new world. You chose to hurt him. You treated him worse than someone would treat the lowest of the low.” Ky tripped over his words but kept going, unable to slow from his fast, clipped pace as he shoved Liem back. “You don’t deserve Brave, and if I knew how to free him from you, I would! You’re a fucking monster! He has fangs and a tail and wings, and you’re the fucking monster, you horrible brat!”

For an instant, it looked like something got through to Liem; there was a flash of understanding and regret deep in his blue eyes. Liem’s expression immediately contorted, and the moment was gone. Red flushed his face and his voice shook with anger. “You don’t understand anything!” Liem hissed. “You dare strike me? I will find a way to get that Requiem for myself. Demons are weak and weak things deserve to be used. You’re the weakest fucking sorcerer ever and you deserve to be broken just like these pathetic creatures!”

Ky pulled his fist back; he’d show the stupid punk just how weak he really was. Liem wasn’t looking for a beating. He grabbed Brave roughly by the arm, and with a muttered spell they both blinked out of the room. All Liem left behind was an echo of his angry laugh and Ky shaking in fury.

Ky looked around sharply. He met Lovely’s gaze when the room proved to be empty of the sorcerer and his wolf demon. “Are they in the shadows?”

Lovely shook his head. “They’re gone; it was a teleportation spell. The apprentice would have to be an imbecile to face the three of us, especially when his bonded demon refused to follow orders.”

Ky nodded mutely as his eyes were drawn to the spot he last saw Liem and Brave. His anger was brittle. Something inside cracked and snapped until he realized he was fighting back tears. “Is he… Is he going to kill Brave?” he forced out through his tight throat.

Lovely crossed his arms over his chest. His shrug was full of indifference when he met Feral’s knowing gaze. “Anselm killed demons, but he had many at the time. It is unlikely a child sorcerer would kill the only bonded demon he has.”

Yeah, but Liem wasn’t a sane person. Ky didn’t want to believe he’d do something so terrible, that anyone would. A day ago he couldn’t imagine a person out there cruel enough to harm someone as beautiful as a Relic. Liem Kane, a classmate younger than Ky, seemed ready to murder a demon just to spite him.

All of this was his fault. Ky never should have black linked with Brave. If only he didn’t say those things, if he hadn’t hit Liem and pissed him off. If he never let Liem into his house in the first place…

Fuck. Dear fuck, should he have let Lovely kill Liem yesterday when he asked?

Ky’s stomach lurched and he fought to keep his balance. Would it have been the right choice now he knew what Liem was plotting? Was he going to come back in the middle of the night to steal the Relics? Maybe he’d kill Ky first, just to get him out of the way. Liem was ready to kill him yesterday; why would that have changed? His parents; would Liem kill his magicless parents just because they were there?

The alarming questions piled in Ky’s mind without any answers. He had no idea what he could do to protect the Relics or his family. Everything he did only seemed to fuck things up more. Brave might already be dead because of him. What was he supposed to do?

Ky’s fingers bit into his palm as he shook with unshed tears. Useless. All he did was cry and fuck things up while others were hurt. Lovely reached for him, but Ky shrugged away with a low sob.

“This is my fault. I got him angry and linked—I don’t even know how I’m linking to them!” Ky yelled suddenly, his eyes wild and glittering. He waved his hands in a wide gesture at Magnificent, Lovely, and Feral. “I’m going to get us all killed. Brave is going to die, and it’s all my fucking fault.”

Ky gasped and stumbled sharply when he was tugged sideways. He hit a solid form and blinked up into Magnificent Night’s fathomless, hauntingly blue eyes. Magnificent’s tail loosened from Ky’s wrist and soothed at the tear sliding a thin path down his cheek. Ky sobbed and crumpled forward, his shoulders hunched inward as he leaned against the demon for support.

“I can’t even get you out of the chains… c-can’t get you home.” Ky couldn’t bear the weight on his chest. He wanted to curl tight, twist into a ball until he disappeared. He went to step away; having the Relics see him like this, so weak and pathetic with every failure, was intolerable. Magnificent wouldn’t let him go. His tail twined around Ky’s chest and he pulled him tight against his body. Ky struggled, but soon found each teardrop lost in Magnificent’s long, dark hair soothed him a little. He wrapped his arms around the demon’s waist, and with is face buried against Magnificent’s neck, Ky mumbled a stream of heartfelt, tearful apologies.

Lovely cleared his throat, and Ky glanced up while sniffling. The cat demon kept his distance, his blue and violet eyes wary as he observed the two of them wrapped together. “It would be wise to collar Seriphous now, if only to prevent the apprentice from breaking in and doing so while we sleep.”

A feeling of dread hit Ky in the pit of his stomach. Liem would come back for Magnificent. Maybe for all of them. What it took to protect the demons… Ky shook his head weakly. “It’s not right. Magnificent’s been chained here for years, fed off of by the overseer. I’m not going to take his freedom away while he’s chained to the fucking ceiling. He can’t choose, and it’s not right.”

Ky regretted bonding with Lovely in that moment. He regretted every black link he collected. Each one was a life endangered by his ignorance. The only thing he was good for was feeding the demons so they didn’t starve.

More tears spilled when Ky pulled from Magnificent and reached for Lovely’s hand. Lovely readily moved to hold him but Ky didn’t want another hug. He pulled Lovely’s claw down his wrist and blood flowed scarlet on his pale flesh.

“Ky?” Lovely tried to read his eyes but Ky wouldn’t look at him.

“He’s hungry,” Ky whispered. He raised his bleeding wrist up to Magnificent’s lips. “He wouldn’t have wanted to kill Liem if he wasn’t so hungry.”

Lovely’s eyes narrowed as he watched Ky feed Magnificent his blood. “We’re not human, sweet boy. We kill things. People. We fight to survive with all the power we have. It is our way and that way involves killing.”

“It was my fault.” Ky was unhearing. He leaned against Magnificent’s chest while the requiem lapped long strokes over his narrow wrist. Heat trickled through Ky. The sensation grew when Magnificent Night’s eyes burned into his, his lips tight on his flesh to suck more fluid free. Brave liked his blood too, Ky remembered in a haze. His eyelids were heavy as he gazed up into Magnificent’s intense features.

Lovely exchanged a glance with Feral, their expressions closed off. “Be careful. We don’t need to feed daily unless injured, and Seriphous is very strong,” Lovely cautioned. “Some are stronger than others, sweetling. Dangerous. Without a collar, he might unintentionally hurt you. You’re still human, and you need to remember to protect yourself.”

Ky’s legs trembled and his face flushed with heat. He pressed into Magnificent’s dark cascade of silky hair and breathed in unsteadily. “He would never hurt me.” Ky doubted too many times already. There were so many opportunities for Magnificent to hurt him if he wanted, but he never did. He wanted to hurt Liem; he could have snapped the apprentice’s neck with a simple flick of his tail the same way he destroyed the bolt cutters. Magnificent wasn’t going to hurt him, and guilt squeezed at his heart when Ky realized how many times he questioned otherwise.

Ky lost a breath when his head was forced up, and his neck stretched tall. He reached, expecting to find Magnificent’s tail around his throat, but there was nothing, just the sorcerer collar. It felt different, stiffer, and as his fingers slid over the smooth fabric, Ky found more slots where links could fit. He met Lovely’s concerned gaze for an instant before he looked away and buried his face back into Magnificent’s hair.

It was only more magic. Ky was able to fuck things up even when he wasn’t doing a thing.

Lovely’s fingers clenched into fists as he watched Ky curled inward and away even more. He wanted to pull his delicate master close, but he didn’t dare get within reach of Seriphous. The Relic was too powerful to underestimate, chained or not.

Feral grabbed Lovely by the bicep and pulled him toward the stairs. He willfully ignored all of Lovely’s quiet insistences to stay with Ky.

Ky had to be hearing things. Drain him dead? There was no way Magnificent Night would ever hurt him like that. “What?”

“It’s probably not a huge loss. I mean, you seem to be really fucking simple.” The stranger smiled cruelly, his blue eyes narrowed as he glanced up from the black link in his hand. “Did you dress in the dark? I pity the sorcerer who has a mess like you for an apprentice. He must be just as foolish or fucking desperate.”

Ky inhaled sharply. He grabbed the other’s wrist, forcing him to either let go of his link to Magnificent Night or continue the contact. His classmate withdrew as if burned and huffed loudly. “I don’t know what your problem is, kid, but I’m not an idiot, and I don’t like being called one by a total…”

“Mr. Scion, let’s talk about these fascinating pieces you brought in today.” Ky snapped his mouth shut at his teacher’s voice, his gaze fixed on his classmate’s condescending expression. “I’m so glad to meet you. Ever since I saw your portfolio, I’ve been excited to have a conversation about your use of color. Excuse us a moment, Liem.”

His new art teacher, Ms. Mahoney, swooped in and led Ky toward his paintings and away from the silent Liem. Ky felt flushed, angry and confused. He glared over his shoulder at the rude jerk, who smirked superiorly back. What an asshole. He barely said two fucking words to Liem, and the guy just outright insulted him. Who the fuck did that?

Ky tried his best to focus on Ms. Mahoney and her very helpful critique of his work, but he couldn’t get the stupid ass out of his mind. Liem’s words spun in his head again and again. He had to be wrong; Magnificent would never harm him. Never. But… Ky didn’t really understand the link. He didn’t even know how it came to be. He barely knew anything about the Relics besides what Lovely told him, and what he heard the catboy argue with Feral over.

Could Liem be right?

Ky peeked over to where Liem was standing next to the table with a still life set up. Liem was looking down intently, and his lips moved like he was talking to someone. Ky edged sideway and nodded mutely to his teacher while he tried to see exactly what Liem was doing. Ky bit his lip when he caught sight of a pair of ears similar to Feral’s but pure black with silver piercings.

Liem brought a demon to class, very likely the same one who modeled for his paintings. Shaggy black hair covered the Relic’s face, his body pale and long as he hunched forward on the floor with hands braced to keep from falling. Behind him was a curl of a wolf tail, and elegant black, leathery wings instead of feathers sprouted from his back. Ky couldn’t hear what Liem was saying, but the Relic looked sick, exhausted, and barely able to sit upright as he swayed on the floor.

Liem abruptly leaned down and yanked hard on the Relic’s ear. Ky flinched at the pained noise the wolf demon made and quickly looked around to see if anyone else heard. No one even looked Liem’s way. A group chatted obliviously, and Ms. Mahoney pointed out the parts of Ky’s technique she found impressive. Out of the entire class, it seemed only Liem and Ky were able to see and hear the demon.

By the time Ms. Mahoney finished her critique, her main hope being he would try some more structured, realism inspired pieces to broaden his abilities, Ky was ready to find something heavy to beat Liem with. Liem kept pulling on his ears while the demon whimpered in pain and struggled not to fall over. The Relic was clearly starving, the strong, toned muscles on his form doing nothing to hide the ribs peeking through. Ky’s glare grew when Liem glanced his way. The student smiled chillingly right before he deliberately grabbed the demon’s nipple and twisted. The wolf demon arched and howled in pain, the movement finally revealing his face.

The Relic’s eyes were ice blue fringed with heavy dark lashes and filled with a wildness that made Ky uneasy. His fangs were long and sharp like he was waiting for prey. He was handsome under his bruises, his body and face littered in purple and blue welts. Even here, in a classroom of students, he was naked with only a heavy black collar around his neck. It was just as outrageous as how Liem was mistreating him.

Class was almost over. Ky grew more and more unsettled with each whimper of pain the wolf demon released. He had a feeling Liem was doing it just to piss him off; he kept grinning Ky’s way to watch his reaction to every cruelty. Liem was a terror and he couldn’t wait for class to get out so he could tell him as much.

There was a flash of silver, and Ky turned his gaze from the broken demon on the ground to meet Liem’s wicked eyes again. Liem slowly unfolded a pocket knife; his expression made it clear exactly what he intended to do when he reached for the demon’s ear.

Motherfucking psycho creep…

It was the last straw. Ky snarled as he stomped across the room. He grabbed Liem by the wrist hard enough for the knife to fall out of his hand and clatter to the floor. He was seconds away from teaching the stupid little dick what it meant to treat Relics as less than human, no matter how many people in the class thought he was crazy.

A deadly growl filled the air. Ky swallowed hard when the wolf demon unfurled from his crouch and towered over him menacingly. Liem smirked and whispered smugly, “Let me go or my pet is going to kill you.”

“You’re totally fucked in the head,” Ky hissed under his breath. He glared at Liem but all his senses were on the growling demon. Feral could have clawed Ky to shreds, and this wolf demon was much larger than the coyote. Sure, Feral might have seemed crazed when they first met, but the wolf demon was nearly foaming. He was starved, abused and showing signs of animalistic behavior. Whatever Liem did to the Relic, it turned him more berserker animal than anything else.

Ky reluctantly let Liem’s wrist go. He kept his chin raised defiantly and teeth grit in anger. “You have no right to treat a Relic like this. He’s an intelligent person, not some toy you can cut up for sick kicks. I don’t know who the fuck you are, but you should know he’s just as equal as you.”

Liem’s rich, blue eyes widened in surprise before he let out a loud laugh. “Holy fuck, you’re one of those types! What a total retard. You’re jeweled, which means if your demon gets hurt, you’ll get hurt too, and you’ve got a black link that will probably kill you before the week is out.” Liem grabbed the wolf demon by its black, bushy tail, and pulled hard. “Demons aren’t people. That you treat them like people is why they’re going to kill you. You need to show them who’s in charge or they’ll destroy you like the weak, pathetic imbecile you are.”

Ky stood taller, and his anger grew as Liem laughed in his face. He could hear the other students gathering their things. The class let out for the evening, and the teacher encouraged them to leave their portfolios and compare them later to their homework. It barely registered past the red throb in Ky’s head. He couldn’t remember ever being so angry before in his life. Even if the wolf demon was nothing more than an animal, the way Liem was treating him was beyond monstrous. Up close, Ky could see more bruises, a few burns, and long scars where a blade drew deep across the pale flesh. Liem was fucked up, and Ky was determined to find a way to get the wolf Relic away from him.

“You’re wrong,” Ky said once his throat wasn’t so tight with anger, and the sounds of the class leaving died down. “Lovely would never hurt me, and I would never put him in danger whether we were bonded or not. The same with Feral; after talking with him I know he’d never hurt me again. The demon black linked to me? He just needs my help. He’s not going to hurt me either. He’s trapped in chains I can’t open but I don’t mind feeding him so he’ll stay strong, alive. Your Relic is starving. All you’ve done is hurt him the entire time you’ve been here. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Liem huffed and folded his arms over his chest. He glanced disinterestedly at the wolf demon beside him. “What, like I’m supposed to feed him?”

“Yes!” Ky snapped. “You put a fucking collar on him so he can’t do anything for himself. You have to feed him, or he’s going to die!”

Liem looked unimpressed, his eyebrow raised in the face of Ky’s righteous anger. “So? Feeding a demon only makes him disobedient. I don’t want him strong enough to fight back. Eventually, Fido will learn to be meek around me. I might feed him more, then. Maybe. His magic is still strong either way, so what does it matter?”

Ky was starting to really understand how Liem saw the Relic and it was only making him more upset. “And if he’s dead? How’s your stupid magic, then? He’s not a fucking battery; he’s a person!” He turned to the demon and tried not to flinch under the manic, cold glare fixed on him. “You called him a pet. Even a fucking child knows enough to feed their pets. You have to be the shittiest sorcerer ever to fail at something so simple as taking care of the creature who gives you magic.”

Liem was as childish as Ky assumed, and his face twisted in rage from the insult. “I’m a skilled sorcerer. A powerful one!” Liem lifted his chin and pointed to the link on his collar. “I have a red link, unlike you. Fido thought he was a warrior when he got here and now he’s completely dominated by me. What, you think you’re stronger? You don’t even have a wand on you. You didn’t bring any demons to defend you. You’re completely weak and helpless with nothing but a lame, white jewel on your collar that shows just how stupid you really are!”

Ky took a step back when Liem raised his hand, and a wand fell into his fingers from out of his sleeve. How did Liem know he didn’t have Anselm’s wand on him? Ky didn’t know what exactly the wand could do to him, but given Liem’s horrible nature, it probably wouldn’t be good. “You can call me whatever you want, but it doesn’t make what you’re doing right. You don’t deserve to be bonded to a Relic if that’s the way you treat him.”

Liem narrowed his eyes, and a grim smile split his face. “Only weak, pathetic sorcerers would ever bind to a demon the way you did your jeweled one. I know what happens to weak things, they get devoured by the strong. You think Fido is so fucking sweet and should be fed? I’ll show you firsthand what it’s like to die from a demon’s fangs.”

Ky inhaled sharply and turned as the door across the room slammed shut. “Demons don’t kill,” he whispered. Liem lowered his wand as he turned back slowly. Ky flinched when he met Fido’s very crazed, ice-blue eyes. “They feed off of energy. They don’t need to kill to…”

“You keep telling yourself that, dumbass,” Liem said with a snicker. “Fido’s hungry and he’s as mean as they come. I watched him tear apart a cat a month ago. He doesn’t care what you are just as long as he gets some food.”

Dread twisted in Ky’s stomach. He stumbled back when the tall demon lurched forward with a bloodcurdling growl. Fido might have been weak and abused, but he also looked mean as fuck and really, really hungry. Ky knew the demons at his home ate rats. He damn well knew Demencious, the horrible overseer, ate other Relics, human beings, and animals to stay alive. Ky didn’t want to believe it was possible, but he couldn’t dismiss the reality this wolf demon looked like he would be more than happy to kill him if he could finally eat.

Persistent whispers slowly pulled Ky from sleep. Everything was fuzzy. For a long moment, he was certain his mother was talking to him. Except the voices were male, strange, and spoke in a language he didn’t recognize. Somehow, though, he understood. His mind bent around each foreign word and supplied the translation as if he knew it his whole life.

“You need to feed.”

“I’m fine. Just stop rolling me,” Lovely softly groaned. His arm fell over Ky’s chest when he was deposited heavily on the bed.

“Feed, you stubborn thing. I don’t have enough to restore you.” The bed shifted, and Feral bent over Ky to peer into his sleepy face. “Alright there, whelp?”

Ky focused blearily on the coyote demon’s scarred face and intense, golden eyes. Ky’s gaze drifted and he reached his hand toward his bleeding shoulder. Feral’s bronzed flesh was covered in wounds, some so raw and painfully deep, Ky could barely stand to look at them. “Feral, you’re hurt.”

Feral huffed when Ky’s silver eyes filled with tears after taking in his bloodied form. “Don’t start bawling, stupid. Help the feline. He can’t heal without energy, and I don’t have enough.”

“I’m fine,” Lovely mumbled again. Ky’s gaze drifted to his side where the pale cat demon was stretched out beside him, blood dry and caked on his beautiful face.

“Frrrling whelp,” Feral mutter in exasperation when Ky’s tears spilled free. Ky whimpered low in his throat and turned and fretted softly over Lovely’s exhausted body.

He was too tired to grumble much. Feral sank onto the mattress and closed his eyes. They had spent the last day and a half in the wardrobe to avoid Ky’s parents who were constantly running in and out of the room. Livia had sat with her son the entire night before, refusing to leave his side. It was only now the two parents finally left the house together and drove off in one of their vehicles. It was enough for Feral to feel safe to come out and lock the bedroom door.

“Shhh. I swear I’m okay,” Lovely whispered hoarsely. His mismatched eyes of blue and violet peered out from between long strands of white hair. “Go back to sleep. Redeless is overreacting.”

“Chrrrl,” Feral snapped grumpily and burrowed deeper into the bedspread. “You nearly drained me unconscious. Let the kid feed you before you bleed out.”

Ky gently pushed Lovely’s long, white hair from his face and revealed slashes and bruises all over his luminescent flesh. It was strange to see Lovely in the thick black collar with its one crystal stud when everything else was bright and white about the catboy. “What do you need, Lovely? If I can help, I’ll do anything. Just tell me.”

“Sweet boy.” Lovely exhaled heavily. He snagged Ky by the chin and tugged him down until their noses brushed. “I just… just need a taste.” He licked his tongue out and traced over Ky’s lips until he opened with a sigh.

Ky was starting to understand when Lovely kissed him like this, tongue lapped inside his mouth in slow, hungry strokes, it was to get his energy and restore his own. It didn’t mean it stopped feeling amazing, and Ky whimpered and melted into the kiss. Lovely pulled him down and licked away his stray tears before he plunged his tongue back into his mouth.

“Sweet, sweet boy,” Lovely murmured against his lips. He nipped Ky’s red lips swollen and drew spots of blood his tongue quickly stole and healed. “Taste so sweet. So generous, my beautiful master.”

Ky blushed and fought back a moan. Lovely grew stronger with each kiss, his lips persistent and hungry as he pressed him down into the mattress. Ky felt more than a little perverted; Lovely kept saying things about how nice he was when he felt hot, hard and dizzy. “Lovely. Oh, okay,” he mumbled as Lovely pinned him to the bed and licked down his throat. His shirt was pulled off in a quick move he couldn’t follow.

“You’re wonderful.” Lovely nipped into his flat stomach, and Ky gasped and flexed beneath him. “You saved us with your very first spell. You kept us alive when we were starving for so long.” He pulled back and met Ky’s heavy-lidded gaze. “You’re the only one who’s ever shared, sweet boy. You didn’t take, didn’t ask for anything back. You’re so brave. So good.”

Ky couldn’t stop flushing, and he bit his lower lip anxiously. “Lovely, is that all it is? Sharing energy? I like when you kiss me. A lot.”

Lovely smirked and leaned down to lap over Ky’s pout. “I like tasting you, sweetling. I like touching you, making you moan, and beg, and cum.”

Ky sighed and pressed up to kiss him back. “I like that too. I like everything you do to me.” He gave another sigh when firm lips descended on his. He fell back against the mattress as Lovely languidly devoured his mouth.

“I need to heal Redeless.” Lovely broke away and knelt on the bed. “He doesn’t have the same restorative abilities I do.”

Lovely’s skin was already free of his previously blue bruising. The slashes and red scratches were just dried blood now, and his pale flesh whole and intact. Even his head wound was healed. All he needed was a shower to clean the grime of the battle away.

Ky watched as Lovely crawled over to the bronze coyote demon. Feral muttered something under his breath when a tongue moved over the wound on his shoulder. He looked exhausted, his eyes closed and face pinched in pain. Ky still didn’t know Feral much and he really didn’t know where they stood. Feral helped him save Lovely; he helped them all survive the terrible Demencious and kept them from falling into the pit. Ky liked him even if he was mean and surly most of the time.

Decided, Ky shifted down the bed and ducked his head until he was nose to nose with Feral on the mattress. “Did you…? Can I give you some energy, Feral?” Ky felt nervous when Feral opened his eyes. No matter all they went through, Feral’s golden gaze was still as intense and piercing as ever.

Feral didn’t answer right away, and Ky wondered if he was more hurt than first thought. “Are you okay?” He carefully touched one of his ears and watched as the furry triangle pierced with gold twitched under his fingertips.

“That tickles, whelp,” Feral finally muttered and closed his eyes.

“I want to help you,” Ky whispered. He pressed closer until his mouth was right next to Feral’s flushed lips. Feral had beautiful lips; they might even be nicer than Lovely’s since he wasn’t snarling.

“I don’t want help from a sorcerer,” Feral grunted. He gasped and glared to the other side of him when Lovely sank his fangs into his arm in retaliation.

“Oh. I don’t think I’m much of a sorcerer.” Ky’s gaze moved over the cuts revealed on Feral’s jaw. “I mean, I just made a picture. I’m really an artist, right? So… So it should be okay.”

“Taste him, you stubborn thing.” Lovely pushed Feral’s face back toward Ky and held him down. “I took too much from you. You can barely put up a fight.”

Ky wasn’t going to kiss Feral if he insisted against it, even if it would help. Well, maybe just a little. Surely once Feral felt better, he probably wouldn’t be so angry about it. Lovely seemed to think so and held Feral in place while he returned to healing his strong arm with licks of his tongue.

“It’s just a taste, right? To make you feel better.” Ky tilted his head closer, Feral’s annoyed huff hot on his cheek. He licked his tongue out hesitantly. Ky felt more than a little daring to touch Feral’s lips. Hopefully, he wouldn’t bite. “Come on, Feral. Lovely says I taste sweet,” he teased.

“Foolish little whelp,” Feral grumbled. Ky used the opportunity to press his tongue inside his mouth. Feral held still, but Ky was determined and caught him by the side of his face so he could share as much of his fluids as possible.

Feral tasted like copper and something heady. His mouth was hot, and it made Ky dizzy when he ran his tongue over the demon’s in gentle strokes. He knew he was supposed to be helping, but Ky couldn’t stop from feeling crazy hot. His body reacted even when his mind told him he was just sharing energy. He didn’t know how the demons did it all the time.

Ky pulled away with a groan, his lips sore and tongue aching. He wanted more. His body was burning and tense, and he knew if he didn’t stop, he’d upset Feral even more. “Sorry. It’s hard to not get…” He exhaled shakily and flashed Feral a weak smile. “You have a nice mouth.”

Feral growled under his breath. He grabbed Ky by his silky, black hair, and pulled him back forcefully. Ky had a moment to wonder if Lovely would have to heal his face again if Feral started slashing, before his lips were crushed roughly by the demon’s.

“Gentle,” Lovely warned in Feral’s ear as his claws prickled on his neck.

Feral grunted and relaxed the grip on his hair after a moment. He pushed Ky back, crawled up his dazed form and straddled him. Feral’s muscular body pinned his slender form down while Ky stared up with dazed, silver eyes. “Silly little human.” Feral ducked down and drove his tongue into Ky’s gasping mouth; his strong fingers held him by his chin to keep him in place. Slowly, Feral let his hand slide down and caressed his throat and shoulders. “Don’t you know it’s dangerous to share your life force with a Relic?”

Ky didn’t have an answer for that. He was too busy whimpering around the tongue pushing into his mouth as Feral tasted him, stole his breath and made him gasp. Large palms ran up his sides and burned against his skin. “Oh. Oh, god,” he moaned. Feral moved down to his pants and shredded them with his claws. Cool air soothed over Ky’s revealed skin.

“Listen to you. You’re always so loud, whelp.” Feral tugged at Ky’s pajama pants. The material ripped away from his legs with a tear. “You beg so nicely when Thornes has you filled. It’s a pleasing sound to wake to, you pretty slut.”

“Now look; you’ve woken him.” Bare feet padded softly on the floor. Lovely knelt on the bed to bend over Ky and gently trace his features. “Go back to sleep, sweet boy. You need to rest.”

“Lovely. Lovely, the basement,” Ky mumbled as he finally got his eyes to open. “There’s someone trapped down there.”

Lovely shook his head, his brows furrowed. “No, Ky.”

“What does the little whelp want?” Feral grumbled. He glared down from behind Lovely’s shoulder.

“He thinks there’s someone in the basement.” Lovely shrugged dismissively. He combed through Ky’s dark hair while Ky fought to keep his eyes open. “He’s muddled. He needs to rest.”

Ky was certain. He knew when Lovely and Feral were there hiding in the dark even though his rational mind told him otherwise. He knew there was someone in the basement. Under the rot, under the blood, there was someone sad and afraid. “Please. Please, help me up. I need… I need to get to them.”

Feral snarled and his ears flattened back. “Like I’d ever leave this frrrling room? He must think we’re as dumb as he is.”

“Shut up,” Lovely hissed and shoved Feral away. “Ky, no. They’re dead.”

“Thornes, leave the boy. You’re wasting…”

“Thornes?” Ky’s eyelids were heavy as he looked up into Lovely’s mismatched gaze of violet and blue. “Is that your name?”

Feral slipped up and growled down at him. His golden eyes pierced into Ky’s inches away. “Can he understand us? Can this blasted frrling understand us now?”

Lovely grabbed Feral by his thick, golden hair and pulled him away roughly. With a wary look, he bent closer to Ky and spoke slowly but steadily. “Thornes is a nickname of my given name. Where I’m from, our names have three parts to indicate our lineage.”

“Oh.” Ky licked his lips and blinked dazedly. “Where are you from?”

Feral, who was listening, made to grab Lovely, only to have the pale catboy stop him with a glare. “He understands us, Thornes! He’s some sort of… Rrrl! You just bonded to a damn, a damn abomination!”

“So help me, Redeless, you will shut your mouth or I will throw you out that bedroom door and finally be done with you for good!” Lovely promised with a low growl. Feral glared back but closed his mouth. A growl rumbled in his chest defiantly.

“Lovely, don’t fight,” Ky whispered. The darkness stole the energy he was desperately holding onto. “I need to help the other. The one in the basement.”

“He’s dead, kid. They’re all dead. Damn, the boy is frrrling annoying,” Feral snapped.

“No. No, he’s alive. Could hear him move. I’m so tired.” Ky’s eyes closed in a blink which threatened to never end. “Why so tired?”

“Hush.” With a final warning glare at Feral, Lovely leaned down and pushed Ky’s hair from his face with a soft smile. “Your magic is waking, that’s all. You’ve been bonded to a demon, a very strong one. It’s a deep bond and it will tie magic into your flesh in ways most humans don’t get to experience. It will make you tired now, but soon you will feel stronger. Powerful. I would never do anything to hurt you, Ky. I promise.”

Ky nodded. He knew all along; Lovely was wonderful and would never hurt him. “You’re very beautiful for a demon. Very nice. I didn’t know demons were nice.”

“It’s what they call us, sweet boy, the humans and the sorcerers. We can do things they can’t, so they call us demons and monsters.”

“But you’re not,” Ky insisted quietly as his eyes finally opened again.

“No, we’re not. We’re Relics,” Lovely explained with a distant gaze. “We come from a place far away from here. We used to live with our families, with our tribes and clans in our realm. We’re just people who can do things you humans can’t. Some humans figured out how to summon us from our homes. The sorcerers used a spell to tie us to them so they could live long and use magic as we do.”

“Oh.” Ky was extremely tired. He wanted to know everything. He wanted to listen to everything Lovely was saying, but it was just so hard to focus. “Don’t you… Wouldn’t you rather go back home? It’s an okay room, but… but you’ve been here for years. You eat rats. Why don’t you go home, Lovely?”

Lovely smiled wanly, leaned down and gently kissed Ky on the mouth. “You are a very sweet boy, and I’m glad I met you.” He sat back and covered his hand over Ky’s brow. “Close your eyes. I will teach you a spell, a vital one, when you wake up. You’re going to need all your strength, Ky. The new moon is approaching, and I need you strong.”

Ky nodded sleepily. “I’d do anything for you, Lovely. Anything.”

“Then rest. Let your magic grow strong.” Lovely sighed as his fingers moved over the heavy black collar secured around his neck. “I’m a very strong Relic. I was one of the jewels of Anselm’s collection. If… If I bonded with him the way I did you, perhaps he would be here now.”

Something niggled in the back of Ky’s mind and pushed through the sleep pulling him down. “The basement. There’s someone who needs help.”

Lovely shook his head. “They’re all dead. We are the only two left of Anselm’s collection. There was one who held out for the longest time. He was much older and stronger than I, maybe stronger than the demented creature who hunted us down. We were all weakened when our master fell, confused and afraid. She drained him dead last month. His life force is gone.”

“Drained.” Ky knew he was wrong. He just needed to be able to move to prove it. “Are you hungry? I need… I need to feed you so you don’t… don’t eat all the rats.”

Feral snorted behind Lovely, but didn’t comment otherwise. “We don’t need to eat, Ky. Demons feed off of energy. Food tastes fine enough, but it’s the life force of our food that strengthens us. We prefer living food; blood, saliva, semen, sweat. Every time I kiss you, I grow stronger, my sweet. Now please, you must sleep.” A thrumming purr filled the air as Lovely bent down to press lips to Ky’s forehead.

Ky nodded weakly and his body relaxed further into the mattress. “He was scared. So afraid.”

Feral huffed and grumbled under his breath. “Worry about yourself, whelp. The wards in this room have kept the bitch out for years, but there’s no blocking the wardrobe. When she returns, she’s going to kill us all, likely starting with your defenseless parents.”

The words filled the darkness of his mind. Ky was asleep before he could feel them fully, lulled by Lovely’s calming purr.

Ky, who was supposed to have only stepped into his wardrobe, was naked, lost and surrounded by absolute darkness. His nose filled with dust. He sneezed and immediately smacked his head into his hand. “Ow.” For some reason he was certain he was in the attic. He didn’t have a way to confirm it with everything dark and impossible to see, but something about the smell and dust made him think of the place and the hole where all of Anselm’s sorcery equipment was hidden.

Ky really didn’t have a moment to think. Something soft and fluffy rubbed against his bare leg in the utter darkness. He grabbed for it, careful not to yank when he recognized Lovely’s tail. The catboy gave another angry hiss, and Ky quickly reached out and found a mess of limbs, claws, hot flesh and heaving breath. Without thinking, he grasped tight and pulled.

It really wasn’t the smartest idea. With a crash, Ky fell backward. Two solid, muscular bodies toppled on top of him and they all clattered out of the wardrobe door and onto his bedroom floor with a thud. The light was blinding to Ky’s addled senses as all the air knocked out of him. Red pain throbbed where he slammed against the hardwood and where the other two then crashed into him. He groaned weakly. His face was full of silky white hair, and he was pinned by bare flesh at every angle. Aches and dull throbbing pain ran through his body as he struggled to breathe. Damn, he was seriously starting to hate his wardrobe.

Ky tried to keep the room from spinning as his head gave a stubborn flare of pain where it hit the floor. Lovely continued to struggle with his attacker. His ears were folded back on his head and he hissed loudly as he slashed claws behind him. As he fought, Lovely pushed himself off of Ky to keep from crushing his fallen form.

Ky watched in a haze and wondered just what a concussion felt like. Maybe he fell out of bed and was dreaming the entire thing. Surely it would make more sense than having the pale, beautiful Lovely fight claw to claw with a golden, punkish looking ruffian who was snarling fangs while he pushed the slender catboy down to the ground and kissed him fiercely.

Ky released a weary sigh as his bruised and battered brain clicked something together.

Crap. Lovely had a boyfriend.

A jealous boyfriend who was not happy with him, or, at least, his clothes.

Maybe Lovely had a thing for people in clothing, and the feral, nude thing couldn’t compete? Ky just couldn’t catch a break. Stupid Blackstone Falls didn’t have any goddamn options for gay and gorgeous.

Ky tried to get up only to quickly dismiss the ridiculous notion as the room spun again and pain flared everywhere. No, he needed to fix this. He somehow got in the middle of a lovers’ quarrel. Given the two of them had no problem slashing the hell out of each other, he’d feel really bad if they did something they’d regret.

Ky rolled awkwardly to his side and tried not to groan in pain as he got onto his hands and knees. He was all skinned up; an elbow raw, one of his toes mangled on the lip of the wardrobe, not to mention the bruising everywhere.

“Please, stop fighting,” he croaked out and winced at the sound of his voice. No, he wasn’t doing well at all. “I didn’t know Lovely was spoken for, and, well…”

Wait. Why the hell was he apologizing? It wasn’t like he even had a chance to see Lovely, never mind ask if he was in a committed relationship. If anything, wasn’t Lovely just a really bad boyfriend for sleeping around with people who couldn’t see in the dark?

Ky shook the thought from his head, and grabbed his skull when it throbbed painfully in retaliation. “Hey, stop fighting!” he yelled and slammed his hand down on the floor. He was ignored. Lovely kicked the bronze skinned, muscular young man off him. Ky only had a moment to sit back with a plop as the catboy jumped up and followed after his target.

On Lovely’s back fluttered a pretty set of white wings. They were small, petite and flexed when he grabbed his tall attacker by the hair. Gold glinted from sharp ears reminiscent of a coyote. Ky just caught sight of the piercings right before Lovely twisted the furry triangles vindictively. Wardrobe guy was in serious trouble, and after what Ky went through, he didn’t feel remotely bad for him. Given the punkish hairdo of his golden blond and purple colored messy locks, as well as his eyebrow rings, the long scar which ran down half his face, and permanent snarl, the jerk was probably asking for trouble.

Wardrobe guy’s wings weren’t white like Lovely’s. They were black and feathery and made Ky wonder just what the hell both of the two creatures were. As cat-like as Lovely was, and as coyote-like as this jerk was, the wings just didn’t really make much sense.

Then again, nothing made a lot of sense lately.

What Ky first thought were just growls and snarls started to form a pattern. The two were having quite the argument in their respective language. His suspicions grew when Lovely pointed in his direction, hissed heatedly and wrenched one of the wardrobe guy’s ears. Ky flinched when the other’s gaze met his; his eyes were a startling gold with pinprick pupils full of malice.

Feral. The thing was absolutely feral and totally hated him.

As if to prove his point, the muscular attacker swiftly grabbed Lovely around the waist, pushed him down to the floor and bit him on the back of his neck. Lovely gave a loud cry and tried to push back up, but the other pinned him down with his larger body.

“Leave him alone!” Ky yelped. He stumbled forward on his knees, then stopped short when Feral glared up at him and growled with his teeth still buried in Lovely’s neck. Ky gulped. He hated he was hesitating. He knew the creature could totally tear him to pieces, and given his glare, would be happy to do it.

“Ky,” Lovely gasped out. He reached a clawed hand forward. Long strands of his white hair tangled around his arm.

Ky already had his face nearly slashed off. Not only did he fall into a bottomless pit in his wardrobe, but was crushed by two fighting creatures just after getting out of bed. He’d deal with the beating the fucking wardrobe guy wanted to give him.

“Lovely, I’m right here.” With a defiant glare into Feral’s golden eyes, Ky reached for Lovely’s hand. He gasped loudly when Lovely grasped his fingers and pulled him down roughly to the floor. Ky’s chin burned as it scraped against the hardwood painfully.

“Oww,” he groaned petulantly. No, it was not a good day.

Ky’s eyes cracked open, and he came face to face with Lovely’s mismatched gaze of blue and violet. “Lovely, that totally hurt…” he trailed off when Lovely cupped him by the head to pull his face closer, and his tongue licked out to move over the wound on his chin. Ky released an unsteady breath. His body felt like a hot, melted puddle of goo as Lovely’s tongue teased up and slid over his lips, then slipped between them firmly.

Ky’s eyes fluttered shut and he pressed closer. His mouth opened eagerly as his lips sealed with Lovely’s, who curled fingers into his dark hair and kissed him deeply.

There was a fierce growl and Ky immediately snapped his eyes open. Somehow he managed to forget about Lovely’s very angry boyfriend, who was glaring down at him.

Well, he assumed his boyfriend. They fought like they damn well might be dating, and the kissing could be a sign and all. But maybe the wardrobe guy was just a jerk who thought he should be allowed to kiss Lovely, and not actually his boyfriend?

There was no way Ky could win a fight against this weird, brutish creature for Lovely’s affection. Still, if he waited until Feral went back into the wardrobe, he could get a big padlock and chain and lock the jerk in there. With that thought hot in his mind, Ky dared to meet the golden glare burning into him.

Even though he had a scar running from his eyebrow all the way down to his jaw, Feral was actually really hot. Not in an aristocratic way like Lovely, but more like a model turned street thug with his heavy eyebrows and dangerous sharp eyes. His full red lips would probably look a lot nicer if he wasn’t snarling. What the hell was the guy’s problem, seriously? Was he, like, living in the damn wardrobe?

It was difficult to concentrate no matter how mean Feral’s snarl was. Lovely’s tongue again lapped over Ky’s face and teased against his lips.

“Lovely, uh, I don’t think this is the right time for… Oh. Okay.” There was just something about Lovely and it made him really dizzy. Ky gasped softly as he was pulled closer. Claws tickled the back of his head when Lovely lapped between his lips and stroked his tongue and the roof of his mouth. Ky barely noticed the hand slam down right next to his face. Lovely did. He pulled away to grab the offending wrist, and his otherworldly eyes glowed anger directed solely at Feral.

Ky couldn’t understand the exchange of words. Even though Lovely was shorter and delicate in appearance, he looked like he was more than capable of slashing Feral into ribbons. Ky bit his lower lip as his eyes were drawn to Lovely’s razor sharp fangs and narrowed eyes. Yeah, Lovely was a badass no matter how pretty he was. It sent a flutter through Ky’s stomach; he wasn’t sure if it was a good feeling or bad.

Feral gave another low growl and turned his glare back to Ky, who tried his best not to flinch.

“Stop being so mean,” Ky muttered. His chin pointed out defiantly as he struggled to push up from the ground. “I haven’t done a damn thing to you.” Feral slammed his other hand down and Ky yelped before he could stop from cringing away. “Asshole!”

Lovely hissed again, dragged Feral down, and slammed his head tight against the floor. Ky hesitated from trying to escape, unable to take his eyes off the catboy as he effortlessly pinned Feral. Yeah, Lovely was really hot when angry. Ky bit the side of his thumb as he watched the two growl in their angry language. Lovely was really strong, his muscles long and graceful, and nude body sleek and smooth. Even his strange ears and tail were sexy; claws, fangs, wings and all. Lovely definitely wasn’t human, neither were, but wow, they were seriously sexy.

Ky wasn’t sure what changed exactly since he was unable to understand what either of them were saying. Something in the timbre of Lovely’s voice and the way Feral’s glare turned smoldering made Ky swallow hard and his face heat up. Lovely ran his tongue over Feral’s scar and purred low in his ear. With a growl, Feral twisted and pinned him again. Lovely moaned as he was pushed face first down to the floor while Feral nipped at his shoulders and neck ravenously.

He should probably go. Really. Clearly Lovely wasn’t averse to being kissed by the wardrobe creep as much as he hoped. Ky couldn’t seem to get himself to move. He bit his thumb harder as he watched Lovely gasp and arch his ass up in the air. His elegant tail wrapped around Feral’s thigh and pulled him down on top of him.

Feral had strong looking hands. They were large, rough, and when he ran them over Lovely’s pale skin, part of Ky wanted to know what they felt like. Stupid. Feral slashed his face and was an absolute menace. Just, there was something in the way he was possessive, consuming and rough in his touch that made Ky’s breath grow short and his mouth dry when he thought what it would feel like to have such attention of his own. Lovely was definitely enjoying it. He moaned lowly and kept shifting his hips to ground back against Feral’s hard dick with rocking pushes.

It’s the last Valentine’s Day I’m going to have to endure at school. Somehow it seems to be mocking me, starting from the horrible amount of red and pink everyone’s wearing. Even the other guys are wearing the garish colors while I’ve resolutely dressed in my normal black.

I can’t stand the holidays, Valentine’s Day especially. It has nothing to do with the forgotten religious saint or the fertility festival the damn thing originally represented. No, it’s the way couples just disregard all decency and once again shove their happiness in my face. Like being single means I should automatically be miserable? Like a relationship is the end-all of being a satisfied human being? Fuck them. At least I’ve never had to listen to some girl tell me off for not calling her every hour.

I have no interest in being in a relationship. Seeing everyone acting like it’s the only thing a guy could want is really annoying as fuck.

Dropping my book bag on the floor, I take a seat for my first class of the day, trying to ignore the obnoxious amount of snuggling going around. When exactly did Valentine’s Day become an excuse to ignore all acceptable forms of public displays of affection? I might be running to the bathroom soon to vomit if this keeps up.

“Aiden, you look like someone pissed in your cereal this morning.” Ben, my best friend, sits down next to me, his hands smacking on his desk. He flashes me a toothy grin, clearly not actually caring that I hate today with a passion.

“What are you so happy about?” I finally ask when he insists on smiling at me.

“I got Vanessa a rose. I even wrote her a bitchin love poem.” His smile somehow manages to grow. “If that doesn’t get her to agree to go out with me, nothing will.”

Scowling at my terribly happy friend—Seriously, it’s Valentine’s Day; happiness is not welcome today—I pull out my math book and notebook. “What exactly do you mean by ‘bitchin love poem?’ Is this like some modern art thing?”

“Nope, even better. I wrote it myself.”

Nodding slowly, I duck my head so he can’t see me wince. “That sounds… um, bitchin.” Hideous. Seriously repulsive. God, I hate Valentine’s Day.

“Wanna read it?”

I bite my lip, knowing if he so much as shows me anything he’s written that’s supposed to convince anyone he’s in love with Vanessa, I’m going to laugh my ass off. “I’m good. For real.”

Ben smiles obliviously, his hair brushing into his eyes. “So?”

“So?” I repeat, folding my notebook open and wondering when the hell Mr. Jacobs is going to get here so the idiots will finally sit their asses down and stop making out around me.

“So, who did you get a rose for?” Ben asks, sounding even chipper than when he first sat down.

I glare at him sideways. He looks ridiculously young and happy and I sort of hate him right now. “No one. You know I don’t buy into this stupid holiday.”

“Pssh. You’re just mad because you haven’t found your ‘one’ yet,” Ben says with all the conviction of a hormonal eighteen-year-old that hasn’t had a relationship last more than three months. “When you fall in love, you’ll totally love Valentine’s Day.”

I debate whether I want to tear his love theory apart verbally to pass the time. I’m in a terrible mood, but I don’t know if I want to take him with me. He’s got that hopeful puppy-dog look he gets right before his heart is broken—This time by Vanessa, who has been looking at Ryan H. for the last month. Seeing as Ryan has a car, Ben is so outmatched. I settle for grunting noncommittally and scribbling doodles in my notebook.

There’s a commotion at the door and I sigh. Finally, the teacher is here and we can start. Except it’s not Mr. Jacobs, it’s a ridiculously cheerful girl carrying an armful of roses. I glare, realizing I’m going to have to go through the receiving, squealing, and all around vomit inducing lovey-dovey crap that comes along with girls getting flowers from secret and not so secret admirers. Fuck my life.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Ben says, grabbing my arm before I can get up and go hide out in the bathroom.

“What—Why the fuck should I stay around for this shit?” I mutter but sit down. Most of the girls are swarming the doorway anyways—There’s no getting by them to escape.

“Cheer the fuck up, Aiden. It’s just Valentine’s Day. It’s not like people are going out of their way to make you unhappy.”

“Aren’t they?” I snap, pointing at the group of giggling girls. “If I never have to hear that noise again, I’d be happy.”

Ben rolls his eyes. “Nothing makes you happy. Not the many holes in your head, your punk music, or even those funky combat boots. You are determined to be unhappy and you shouldn’t go blaming the rest of the world for your state of being.”

Glowering, I hunch over my desk, deciding to ignore him and the class until the stupidity dies down. Having eyebrow rings and a tattoo on the back of my neck isn’t some statement in being unhappy, it’s just a statement in being me. Ben wouldn’t understand, always wasting his time and energy trying to get with the next pretty, vapid thing he sees instead of figuring out himself.

Something flashes out of the corner of my eye, a red rose landing on my notebook. Blinking, I looked up in disbelief as Callie—super smiley cheerleader—hands me a white card. “Looks like you have a secret admirer, Aiden.”

“What?” I say dumbly, glancing sideways to find nearly everyone in the classroom suddenly looking at me.

She continues as if I hadn’t said anything, the card landing on top of my desk when I refuse to take it from her hand. “You know, you’re the first boy that’s gotten a rose this year. Usually guys send them to girls,” she says with a slightly accusing look.

What the hell is that supposed to mean? Am I not good enough for a rose now? Or… is she saying a guy sent me a rose?

“Hey, just because Aiden’s a guy, doesn’t mean he can’t get a rose,” Ben speaks up before I can actually ask what she’s implying. Throwing her bleach blond hair over her shoulder, Callie gives a bored huff and just steps away to the next person on her list.

“It’s the fucking twenty-first century. Geez,” Ben mutters before pasting another huge smile on and smacking me on the back. “Well, what does it say? Who sent you the rose?”

“What?” Scratching the back of my head, I look at Ben warily. My friend of forever has been acting weird ever since he spent his summer in New York with his cousins. I’m not sure exactly what he’s got in his head all of a sudden when it comes to me, but he’s been saying a lot of stupid shit like how I don’t need a girlfriend if I don’t want one, and he’d never judge me no matter what. It’s been really getting on my nerves but I don’t know if now is the time to bring it up, especially when half the class is trying to snoop over my shoulder to read the stupid card on my desk.

Shaking my head, I flip the plain white notecard open, glancing briefly at the one line before flipping it shut and pocketing it.

“Well?” Ben asks, curiosity clear in his voice.

“Well, what?” I go back to scribbling in my notebook, pointedly ignoring him.

“What did it say?”

Sighing in annoyance, I glance his way, finding two other people looking at me just as curiously. Fuck this stupid shit. “Nothing.”

“Like fuck—They wouldn’t have given you a card if it was blank.” Ben isn’t going to let it go. Actually, he looks about ready to wrestle me to the ground so he can get the thing and read it himself. That I’m only five foot ten, and slender will not stop my taller friend. That I also fight like a crazy bastard and enjoy biting will probably keep him from trying it.

“It’s just a time and place for a meetup. No name,” I finally grunt out, looking down at my desk. “I’m sure they just got me confused with someone else. There are like seven guys named Aiden in the grade below us.”

“Aiden…” Ben just sighs, something else I choose to ignore. He can tell me till he’s blue in the face and I want to beat the fuck out of him that I’m actually a likeable guy, but I know better. I barely tolerate people and people, well, they keep their distance. I might have a cute face but with the right scowl and mean enough piercings, they back the fuck off. It’s how I like it. I don’t want people in my life—My life is difficult enough.

“When is it?” Ben asks when I relax enough to think he’s dropped the subject.

“When’s what?”

“Stop fucking with me. The meetup?”

Grunting, I pull the note from my pocket and hand it to him. He reads it, his brows furrowed as he gives me the card back. “That’s a weird place to meet someone.”

I shrug. “I’m not going.”

“Yes, you are. Someone bothered to write you a card and buy you a rose. You’re fucking going—Stop being such a dick. What if they really like you?”

“Then they’re fucking dumb.” I shove the note back into my pocket, eyes falling on the rose. It’s actually kind of cool looking, the edges of the blood red petals blackened like they’ve been burnt. I reach out, letting my fingers brush over a silky smooth petal. Even the thorns are tipped in black. Do they dye roses now?

I pick it up, pressing my thumb against a thorn. It certainly feels real. Ducking my head, I give it a hesitant sniff, a small smile stealing across my lips.

Fine, it’s a cool rose. Not one of those girly pink ones or I would have tossed it already. But it’s not like you can fuck up a flower. Whoever had the nerve to send me one doesn’t automatically get a meeting with me just because the rose doesn’t suck.

The pack of girls finally leaves the doorway, the sound quieting down as the last of the class trickles in. Observing the way the black edges make a spiral pattern as they wrap around the rose, I’m pulled away by the weight of someone’s stare. It’s the new kid, the foreign transfer that showed up a month ago, currently standing halfway in the room and staring at my rose like he’s never seen one before.

Gavriil Strife is a weird one. He has golden blond hair, weird violet eyes and looks like some fucking model out of a magazine. He’s tall, built, and just has this ease about him with his stylish hair and graceful walk. Every girl in the school is chasing him hardcore, his nickname being ‘the golden prince.’ Annoying enough, but he doesn’t talk, like ever. I think I might have heard him say something once when answering a teacher, and his accent was so thick, I didn’t understand a word. No one can understand him but everyone loves him. It’s bullshit.

That he’s staring at me now, those weird eyes rimmed in black piercing into mine is unsettling as fuck and I find myself biting my lip. But I refuse to back down; he’s staring, and it doesn’t matter where he’s from, it’s still rude. Then the jackass grins at me, his expression turning mischievous like he’s got some fucking secret before he looks away and crosses to his seat. He’s seriously annoying. Weird and annoying, and I’ve caught him staring at me before. Like every class we share.

“What was that about?” Ben leans over to whisper in my ear.

“Fucking weirdo,” I mutter flatly, looking again at the rose and trying to fight the urge to glance over and see if Gavriil’s still staring. Maybe he’s pissed his didn’t get a rose, seeing as he’s a total pretty boy… Hell, maybe his ex sent me the flower? Has the kid actually taken any of the swarms of girls up on a date? He doesn’t speak a word of English yet he’s in my English class. I chance a peek, violet eyes meeting mine for a moment before I look away.

Weirdo.

The idea of Gavriil dating anyone is annoying as fuck too, like the weird boy himself, and I huff and turn to another page of my notebook so I can draw myself a maze. I take small joy in adding spikes and pits filled with vipers for any wanderer to get stuck in. It’s a shit day and only promising to get worse.

***

I’ve dodged Ben’s incessant questions throughout the day about if I’m going to the stupid meetup. The only reason I’m even considering it is just because it’s on my way home. If some idiot wants to wait out in the fucking freezing cold in the middle of February after a damn snowstorm, that’s really their problem, not mine. Throwing a $5 rose in my lap doesn’t mean I’m required to freeze my ass off.

I’m actually pretty angry about the whole thing. Seriously, what stupid idiot got me a fucking rose? Who the hell thought that I’d be into some stupid romantic rendezvous on the sappiest fucking day of the year? I was embarrassed during class, everyone keeps looking at me, and the questions will not stop. If I do go, I’m probably going to do it just to tell the person off for making my Valentine’s Day even worse than normal.

Scowling into my locker, I pull my black jacket on, hunching into the heavy material. It has a few holes but layered with my sweatshirt it does the trick for the fifteen-minute walk home. Tugging my slouchy on over my shaggy dark hair, I glare sideways at Ben who is, of course, waiting for me to tell him if I’m going to meet my ‘secret admirer.’

Fuck, even the name annoys the fuck out of me.

“Well?”

“Fuck off.” I slam my locker shut, ducking around him.

“Stop being an ass, Aiden. It’s just one little meeting. Just give the guy a shot—Shit.” Ben stops short as I whirl, his hands held up defensively.

Guy? Glaring at the cringing brunette, I stomp back. “What the fuck do you know?”

“N-Nothing, it just sort of slipped…” Ben sucks at lying, especially to me. I take a quick look around the hall, way too many of my classmates staring at me. Growling, I grab Ben by his collar and haul him into the empty science room.

“Tell me. Now.”

“Really, it’s nothing. A guess…” Ben coughs awkwardly while I stare him down. I’m not buying it and he knows it. “Fuck… Fuck, stop snarling at me.”

“Tell me, you jackass! Who is it!”

Stumbling back, he ends up sitting heavily on the teacher’s desk. I glare as he smiles at me sheepishly. “I don’t know his name. I just… I’m pretty sure it’s a guy.”

“Why?” I growl when he feels the need to stop at that fucking revelation and not explain. Why the fuck would a guy be looking at me? I’m an asshole to everyone, and I’ve never shown an interest in hooking up with anyone, especially guys.

“Well… um… Someone asked me if you’d… might be interested…”

“Oh my god—Fucking whore, Ben! Why? Why would you tell someone that I’d—Fuck.” I whirl, pacing away before I do something uncalled for, like punch the idiot. What the fuck is wrong with him? Why would he do that? Does he hate me or some shit? He’s like my only friend—Do I have to worry about him spreading fucking rumors about me liking dick or something? Fuck.

“Aiden, you have to understand. I just thought, well… Well, I just thought,” Ben finishes lamely, wincing when I turn and glare his way.

“You think I’m gay?”

Looking uncomfortable, he gives a weak shrug. “It could explain a few things.”

And what the fuck is that supposed to mean? “Like what?” I growl, my hands on my hips as I wait expectantly for whatever stupid is going to come out of his mouth. There is nothing remotely gay about me. Fuck, if I’m anything, it’s asexual, but I hate fucking labels so I wouldn’t even say that. I have no interest in being with anyone, period.

“You don’t date,” Ben points out.

“So? You know my fucking home life. You think I want to bring anyone into that shit?”

“Bullshit,” he says, standing up and glaring back at me. “Do you think I’m blind or something? Like I can’t see when you’re checking a guy out? You spent nearly half of last class staring at Chris.”

“He was cheating off of Duley,” I snap, really not liking where this is turning. I do not check out guys.

“Was his ass cheating? Cus that’s where you were staring.”

“Are you shitting me—Did you just seriously accuse me of…?” There are no words. “Ben, I’m not gay!” I yelp in frustration.

“Whatever, jackass,” he mutters, like I’m fucking lying to him or something. “I’m not the only one who thinks it, man. Ever since Gavriil transferred in, everyone has been talking about it.”

Blinking dumbly, I hold up my hand. “What? What the fuck does that weirdo have to do with anything?”

Ben growls in exasperation. “Dude, you stare at him all the time!”

“Only because he keeps staring at me!” I turn away, my hat coming off in my hands as I grab my hair and tug. Stupid Gavriil Strife—Of course that fucker is to blame for all this. The damn pretty-boy came in here acting weird, and the second I glare at him everyone just assumes I have a thing for him because he’s gorgeous. The fucking bastard.

“Who did you tell?” I ask, spinning back to Ben. “Who fucking asked?”

Huffing, he folds his arms over his chest. “I’m not sure.”

“Like fuck you’re not—”

“I never saw the guy before. It was a couple of weeks ago during that football game you left early from.” He gives me a look and I wonder if he’s going to start accusing me of staring at their asses too. “He came up and asked if you were into guys. He had long black hair, green eyes. Tall. Really good looking.”

“Why the fuck do you feel the need to tell me he’s good looking?” I hate him so much right now. “So you just told this absolute stranger that your best friend is into guys?” I say in frustration.

“No,” he snaps back, his jaw squaring defiantly. “I told him it was a possibility. That you’re not the dating type so there was really only one way to know for sure.”

God, my life sucks so much right now. My mom is probably home drinking our fucking food money away, and here I am standing, listening to my best friend explain how I could be gay.

“Did you ever once think to ask me?” I can’t stop my angry growl. He winces and I feel a mild satisfaction that he at least feels guilty. It’s extremely mild.

“Aiden, I watched you eat half a raw potato before you realized it wasn’t an apple.”

“So—What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”

“So, you’re fucking oblivious, man. If I was going to ask someone about you, I’d ask me first because, fuck, I know you better than you know you.”

Scoffing, I glance away. “No, you don’t.”

“Oh yeah? Favorite food—Cheeseburger with extra pickles, but on a grill because you like the burn but still pink in the middle. You’re two homework assignments away from failing Mr. Pincer’s class. You spent all of yesterday with a pink barrette in your hair because you didn’t notice I put a fucking barrette in your hair. Dude, you’re a fucking space case,” he says with a wave of his hands.

I pause at that, remembering vaguely something pulling on my hair yesterday when I took my hat off. Fuck. “Pink? You jackass.”

“Do you even know how many people check you out?” he continues sternly. “Like every fucking day? I have chicks asking all the time if you’re, like, not allowed to date or something. I see guys looking at you all the time, and hell, I’m as straight as they come, but even I can admit you’re totally sexy, man.”

I splutter, glaring at him while my tongue refuses to work. I am not sexy. I am angry and unapproachable, and that is how I want to be.

“Aiden, go meet the fucking guy. For once in your life stop wandering around aimlessly after cleaning up your parents’ mess, and just live a second for yourself. People want to get to know you, so give them a fucking chance already.”

It probably would have been more poignant if my best friend wasn’t trying to send me off because he thinks I like dick. As it is, I’m just more annoyed that there are at least two people on the planet determined to make this day as fucking miserable as possible.

“I’ll go,” I finally growl, glaring him down as he beams in reply. “But only to tell this guy that you were mistaken. Bad enough he’s so retarded he thinks I’m dating material to begin with.” Seriously, you’d have to be a fucking idiot to think I was worth hanging around for any amount of time. I’m pretty sure Ben’s an idiot, and he’s well aware of my opinion on the matter.

“Seriously, dude, if it’s the guy from the game, he’s hot. I’d never do you wrong like that.”

I shake my head. There are really no words for how dumb he is today. Fucking Valentine’s Day.

“Did Vanessa like her rose?” I grunt out, feeling spiteful. Ben gives a heartfelt, woeful sigh. Answer enough. Yeah, he’s a fucking idiot and now I have to go let some really confused gay guy down on Valentine’s Day. Fuck my life.

“Hey, Jayce, isn’t that your little brother?”

Glancing over Paul’s large shoulder, Jayce searched to see where his friend was tilting his head. The mall was crowded as usual, but yeah, it wasn’t hard to spot Declan. “Stepbrother,” he muttered darkly. They didn’t look alike. Jayce was tall, muscular, tanned with shaggy, sandy blond hair and dark eyes. Declan was… well, Declan.

All black hair, blue eyes, and gothed out to the gills. The kid looked like he’d been dropped in a vat of black ink. Tight black semi-transparent shirt, long black shorts, black trenchcoat, black boots, black belt, black choker and bracelets; Declan had a very obvious theme going. Even his eyeliner and nail polish were black. Everything about the kid was black except for his skin. No, his skin was so pale, Jayce swore it glowed half the time. Then there were his eyes. Blue. Crazy blue. Manic and fucked up, and it was always so hard for him to look away from his brother’s eyes. Declan was beautiful.

Jayce wanted to fuck his little brother, and it was really starting to be a problem.

“What is he, some sort of vampire now?” Paul snickered, ducking his head when Declan approached.

Jayce kept his mouth shut, trying not to stare at his sexy-ass brother. There was something fucked up in his little brother’s head. Jayce wasn’t sure what it was but ever since they’d started sharing a room, things had gotten awkward. Part of that was on Declan for being an angry freak. The other part was on Jayce for wanting to do a lot of freaky stuff to the kid. It really wasn’t cool but he was behaving, so that was something.

He kind of felt sorry for Declan. Sort of. The kid had to move to a new town, start a new school, and, oh yeah, leave his old life behind. The kids there were total asses about the goth thing. Not all of them, but enough that his little brother hadn’t made many friends yet. Maybe not any. He was a total loner.

“Hey,” Jayce greeted when Declan was in range. The brunette looked him right in the eye, coolly raised a pierced eyebrow, and then kept walking like he hadn’t said a word. Asshole. There might be a reason Declan didn’t have any friends. Jayce sure as fuck didn’t want to be his friend. Still didn’t keep him from staring at his ass as he walked away, though.

“Harsh,” Paul muttered, grinning when Jayce met his gaze. “You two still fighting?”

“I don’t think we are. Hard to fight when we barely say two words to each other.”

It hadn’t always been that way. Their parents had dated for years and he and Declan had spent all their free time together. The kid had been practically tied to his hip. Declan used to idolize him and Jayce had been thrilled to have a brother. Even if the kid was younger and insisted on being nerdy. Declan had been his best friend. Then everything had gone to shit.

Jayce wasn’t sure what had happened exactly. Their parents had gone through a rough patch and took a break. It turned out to be exactly what the two of them needed because fourteen months later his mom, Sarah, married Declan’s dad, Greg, and the Rainers had moved into his house. But something had changed during that break. Declan refused to answer any of Jayce’s texts or calls as if their parents splitting meant that they couldn’t be friends. Jayce had been preoccupied with college at the time and hadn’t really realized just how much his brother had shut him out. After the wedding, Declan moved into his room a completely different guy. Cold. Goth. Fucked up.

Sexy as sin.

The revelation that his brother was beyond hot had been extremely uncomfortable on Jayce, and not just because they were currently fighting. Declan was the kid he had protected and damn near half raised, their parents always at work and leaving them on their own. He had done his best to protect his brother from the assholes that would look at his nerdy clothes and silly books and talk down to him. Now, well, now every time he looked at his little brother in his ridiculous skin tight black clothes and girly makeup, he just wanted to push him up against the nearest sturdy surface and fuck him raw.

He was pretty sure he was going to hell, perving on his little brother. They might not have been related, but Declan was still everything to him even if he couldn’t stand whatever dumbass phase the kid was going through at the moment. Which just made it so much more messed up that he dreamed about fucking D nearly every night now.

He almost wished he had gone out of state for school instead of attending the local university. Seeing Declan acting out sucked. He had lost his brother only to gain some angry, albeit really hot punk. The kid got pissed every time Jayce even said the word goth. Declan had grown his hair out, all sleek and cut spiky, and although Jayce had managed not to say a word yet about it, D sure hated when he hid his hairbrush.

“I heard a rumor about him,” Paul said while they were walking to the food court.

“What, that he’s an ax-murder that’s escaped from an institution?” Jayce had already heard that one. The kids around there were total dicks and had shit for imagination.

Paul looked around, ducking his head so he was talking into the blond’s ear. “Nope. That he sucks cock.”

Jayce snapped his mouth shut, glaring sideways at his giant of a friend. Jesus, why would he tell him something like that? He was fucked up in the head already about D.

“Jason Henley’s, to be precise. So, is it true? You share a house with him. You probably know if he’s—”

“I don’t.”

“Don’t be that way. Vanessa is crushing on him and just wants to know if she has a shot. She thinks he’s hot, even with his girly hair and makeup.”

Another thing Jayce didn’t ever want to hear. He knew Declan was hot. He didn’t want his fucking friends thinking it about his little brother too. Jayce stopped walking, turning on Paul. “Whatever strange my stepbrother is into has nothing to do with me. Definitely nothing to do with you. Now drop it.”

“Touchy.”

Jackass. Glaring straight ahead, Jayce tried to keep his mind from running in circles. Declan was gay? For real? The kid had never talked to him about guys, or girls, for that matter. He’d never met D’s old friends—the few he’d had. For all he knew, Declan used to have a boyfriend. Why the fuck wouldn’t he tell him? Declan knew he was bi. He had to know Jayce wouldn’t have anything bad to say about him if he was gay.

“How certain is this rumor?” He finally asked Paul, frustration clear in his voice. How could Declan have kept such a huge secret from him? Why would he have?

“Ah… pretty certain.” Paul suddenly grabbed Jayce’s arm, pulling him around a pillar and pointing down the line of tables ahead as they stepped into the food court. It was Declan, sitting with his book resting on the table. But he wasn’t alone. Some sleazy looking guy was hovering over his shoulder, talking in his ear. Sure enough, the guy suddenly leaned his head and gave Jayce’s little brother a kiss.

Son of a fucking bitch.

“Whoa, where the fuck are you going?” Paul grabbed the blond’s shoulder and Jayce jerked to a stop. “What, you going to go beat him up or some shit?”

Fuck yes. “It’s fucking Jason Henley,” Jayce hissed, glaring at the two of them as the loser sat his ass down across from his little brother and ran his fingers through Declan’s perfect hair. He was going to fucking kill that asshole!

“Keep it together, big bro,” Paul said in his infuriatingly reasonable tone while refusing to let Jayce go. “If Declan’s as smart as you used to say, he’ll see right through Henley’s crap. He doesn’t need you going in there embarrassing the hell out of him with your macho bullshit.”

Jayce wasn’t so sure. Declan had been messed up lately, acting out, looking for trouble. The kid wouldn’t talk to him for shit and it had been worrying him more and more. Now this. Gay with Jason Henley.

“Henley’s too old for him,” Jayce finally grunted, allowing himself to be pulled away.

“He’s our age,” Paul said with a snort. Jayce and Paul had been on the wrestling team together in high school. Paul might act like a gentle giant but under his flab was enough muscle to keep Jayce from making an ass of himself if he lost his shit.

God, if only it had been anyone other than Jason Henley.

“He’s too old. Old enough to drink. Old enough to get Declan in so much fucking trouble—And that asshole is total trouble. You know his rep.”

“You’ll only make it worse. Keep your mouth shut and let your bro make his own mistakes.”

Jayce growled but didn’t say anything else.

Shit, Henley was such a fucking loser. Like, drugged up half the time, drunk the other half, and all mean spirit. He had also already managed to flunk out of college while Declan was still in his graduating year of high school. Jayce knew it was none of his business, but hell, the idea of that asshole touching his little brother just really pissed him off. The kid could do better.

D was only one summer in Jayce’s town and had already hooked up with the biggest loser around. There really was something fucked in the kid’s head.

***

Jayce had hoped to talk to Declan once he got home later that night but D wasn’t there. Neither were his mom and stepfather, Greg. Not a huge shocker with the last two. They were both doctors at the local hospital and worked the worst hours. Jayce had foolishly expected when his mom finally got married that he’d see her more. Instead he’d been stuck with Declan, which just felt like being extra alone for all the icy distance the kid put between them. Impressive, considering all the shit he had crowded into Jayce’s room.

His mom kept promising they’d move to a larger house soon. Going from a family of two to four overnight had been intense. Declan didn’t get any say in being shoved out of his fancy mansion and into Jayce’s cozy house. The kid was probably hurting about that too—Not that D would tell him.

Jayce made himself a quick snack and then went to his room to get his homework done.

Declan was usually haunting the living room or backyard while reading his horror novels. He read scary shit; weird, dark, bloody stuff that made Jayce wonder if he might be a closet serial killer, as did the kid’s decorating sense. Half of his room was now covered in what he could only assume was vampire paraphernalia, Asian, at that. D had a lot of posters of guys with sleek spiky hair just like Declan’s dressed in elaborate coats, leather, ruffles, and lace. Oh, and they were all in makeup. It was weird. Especially when Jayce spent a day checking a few of them out, only to have Declan tell him they were men. All of them.

That might have been a big clue, now that he thought about it.

Gay. His little brother was gay. And D had never told him. It didn’t make sense. Jayce had told Declan when he was figuring out he was Bi. It had been a big deal to finally tell someone. Declan had been cool about it. Quiet, but hell, he was always quiet. But D hadn’t said shit about liking guys. Had he said something wrong? Did he somehow indicate that there could only be one sexually free brother in the house when he’d moved in? It felt like something he would remember. Fuck.

Maybe Declan knew. Maybe he knew deep inside Jayce’s messed up head he had been checking his little brother out all fucking summer and masturbating to his image. The kid had nothing to worry about. Jayce would only ever look. He knew it was wrong. D was a kid to him—even if he was angry as fuck lately. He was his brother and you just didn’t do that shit. No matter how much he really wanted to.

Jayce honestly didn’t think it was him. There was just something going on with D. Something kinda messed up. Even his bed was black. Black sheets, black bedspread, blood red satin pillows—He must have been feeling rebellious. Declan’s side of the room was covered in candles, all elaborate, drippy looking things in twisted silver holders. The kid kept dead roses in vases with incense smelling up the place. It was really starting to take over the room. Although he did like the incense; it smelled nicer than his gym clothes.

It was like D was living in a fantasy world and Jayce couldn’t figure out why he needed it. All the books, his themed room; he couldn’t imagine being so dedicated to a theme. He just had stuff. Clothes ended up in the bureau, sometimes the floor. He had a few posters, mostly of his favorite video games—And none of them matched. The bedspread was a gift from his grandmother. He could barely put the effort into matching his damn socks. Declan had a theme for his life. It was impressive and fucked up.

Jayce was done with homework and twenty minutes into a very difficult raid in his online game when Declan finally came home. And fuck his life, he wasn’t alone. The kid had finally made some friends. Three very loud, assholic friends that he immediately wanted to beat the shit out of when he realized they were lighting up in his fucking living room.

Seriously, who did that? Just walked into a stranger’s house and started smoking weed? No one had even given a fucking hello.

Jayce wasn’t shocked to discover Jason Henley sucking down a hit, his arm tight around Declan’s waist as they shared the couch. One of Henley’s friends—Jayce had seen him in the parking lot of his school and was pretty sure he was college too—was flipping through the now blaring television. Apparently being high meant also being deaf. The third was laughing about some shit while texting on his phone. Somehow he seemed the least obnoxious of the group, even though Declan was silent and sober.

Ignoring his brother, he focused in on the asshole trying to blow a smoke ring while stinking up his couch. He and Henley had gone through school together. Jayce had managed to not have to talk five words to the loser up until that moment. “Take your pot and get the fuck out of my house.” No, he wasn’t subtle. He was pissed. It was the first time Declan had brought people over and they plain sucked.

“Shit, chill the fuck out, Flint. Or is it Rainer now?”

“Flint,” Declan said in his quiet voice, looking at Jayce nonchalantly. “We kept our last names.”

“Whatever,” Henley snickered, grinning meanly. “Chill the fuck out, Flint.”

Jayce was about five seconds from punching the guy in the face. He could take him, easy. Heat racing through his body, Jayce turned to Declan. “I’m serious, D. Get them the fuck out or I will. You won’t like how I do it.”

Declan was three years younger than Jayce, nearly a head shorter, and his big brother could literally bench him. He knew it, and yet, cool as could be, grabbed the joint from Henley and took a hit. He held it between long fingers, unblinking as he looked at Jayce with his unnerving blue eyes. “Fine. There’s nothing to do in your shit house anyways.”

Motherfucking ass. Jayce waited, his arms folded over his chest to keep from swinging. Henley didn’t want to leave. Too fucking bad. By the time the three stoners were finally through the front door, Jayce was ready to start throwing shit. Namely them. He grabbed Declan before he could go, holding him by the arm while the brunette stared back defiantly.

“You want to bring people over here, that’s fine. But tell them to leave their fucking drugs at home.”

Blowing a strand of ink-black hair out of his eyes, Declan looked completely void of emotion. “Whatever. Not like it’s my house or anything.”

God, he wanted to punch the kid through the fucking wall. He had done everything to make Declan feel welcome. D just kept shutting him out.

“You have shit taste in friends. Normal people don’t get fucked up the second they walk into someone else’s house.”

“Fuck you and your normal.” Declan wrenched his arm free, slamming out the door. Jayce almost followed after, but there was really nothing to say besides a big ‘fuck you,’ and he was trying really hard not to lose his shit. Even so, he couldn’t help but feel slightly satisfied that he had managed to break through his brother’s infuriating icy facade for a moment.

God, the kid pissed him off. Worst brother ever.

Jayce might have been referring to himself. Declan had looked fucking hot. Sexy as hell.

Chapter 2

Jayce received a text around eight to inform him that his mom and Greg weren’t going to be home for the pizza he had already ordered and eaten. Also not a fucking shocker. He spent the rest of the night pissed off, playing video games and then pacing as the clock kept ticking and Declan didn’t return home.

His little brother had just met those guys. He was new to town, new to the school, new to everything, and he was letting some fucked up college stoners drive him around. Jayce couldn’t stop the paranoid fear that Declan had gotten into a car accident. Maybe he shouldn’t have let them go until they had gotten the drugs out of their system first. Fuck him if he’d inadvertently caused D’s death because he couldn’t chill over some pot. It wasn’t like it was ecstasy or meth, or even cocaine. He wasn’t tripping on acid.

God, but it had been so fucking rude. Walking into his house like no one else existed. Like it hadn’t been his home for the last ten years. He had helped his mom pick out the place. He was the one that had chosen the couch in the living room that the losers were stinking up with their smoke. Fuck.

He hoped D was alright.

Jayce knew Declan was only a few years younger than him, but he was such a fucking naïve child at times. The kid just didn’t know the world even if he got straight A’s in school. He was always reading, thinking that was the way shit happened. Like you could plan, like people made sense the way words did. The fucked up kids didn’t make sense. From everything Jayce had heard about Henley, he was a user. A user of drugs and a user of boys. And now Declan was just hanging around, not understanding that just because a guy got hard over him doesn’t mean he was in love. Guys got hard over everything; he knew firsthand.

He was going to kill Henley if he touched his little brother. Should have beaten his face in before they’d even left the house for having the nerve to put his arm around Declan in front of him. Fucking sleaze.

He was just about ready to change out of his pajamas and start driving around looking for his brother when he heard a car pull up. Voices raised in laughter flowed in through the window while Jayce looked at the clock on his phone. 2:25 am. The little fuck. The backdoor opened then shut. Hearing a small crash, Jayce quickly strode down the hall, flipping on lights as he moved.

“Hey… big bro.” Declan smiled lopsidedly from his slump on the wall. Jayce stopped cold, closing his eyes and slowly counting to ten.

For fuck sake, the kid was drunk.

He wanted to yell. He wanted to tell D how fucking stupid he was for hanging out with a bunch of fucking losers and then getting shitfaced with them. But he just bit his tongue. Saying that kind of shit would only make Declan want to do it again.

Jayce crossed the kitchen, grabbing the brunette by the shoulder and pulling him off the wall. Declan swayed, stumbling forward, snorting in laughter. “Oh shit. You’re not going to spank me, are you?”

He really fucking should. “You’re fucked up. Get your ass in bed and I’ll put some coffee on.” Jayce pushed him towards the hall. Declan nearly fell, grabbing onto the kitchen table for dear life. Fuck, he was really messed up. “How much did you drink?”

Staring down at the table, a smile slowly split Declan’s lush lips. “Not much… Couple shots.”

“Declan—Fuck!” It couldn’t have been fucking beer like a normal kid. No, he had to go get fucking hard liquor into him.

“No, it’s okay. It was all very sophis… sophis… sophisticated,” he mumbled, turning his smile Jayce’s way. Declan began to lose his balance, his eyes blinking in alarm as he tilted towards the floor. Jayce grabbed him before he could fall, steadying the brunette and pulling him into the hallway.

“You’re an idiot. What the fuck were you trying to prove to those losers? You think they’re going to like you more if you get just as fucked up as they are?” Damn it, he was nagging like some bitchy mother and he couldn’t seem to stop.

“Mmm… Maybe I want to like me more.” Reaching the bedroom, Declan nearly fell when his brother released him. Jayce directed him to his bed so when the kid’s legs finally gave he’d have something soft to land on.

“Change. I’ll be back after I put the coffee on.” Jayce left him struggling with his coat while he escaped to the kitchen and tried not to punch the wall in frustration. He should never have let D leave with those losers. Should have… What? Tied him up? Seriously, Declan did whatever the fuck he wanted. Jayce just hadn’t realized it was going to include fucking up his life.

Should he tell Greg? Was that the answer for something like this? Jayce tapped his cellphone in his pocket while he put the coffee on, his mind whirling. He didn’t know. He didn’t even know what the hell Declan’s father would do. Greg was a bit of a religious nut. He was always at the hospital, but while Jayce’s mom was there to provide a service doing something she loved, Greg looked at it like it was his calling.

Maybe he should just wait until morning. Talk to the kid when he was sober and he could feel him out to see if he was going to pull this kind of shit again. Jayce wasn’t his father. Hell, he was barely Declan’s brother. It really wasn’t his goddamn responsibility to make sure—

There was a loud crash from the bedroom. Scowling, Jayce jogged down the hall, only to find his lamp was broken. Not Declan’s lamp. No, that would have just been fair. No, the kid had knocked over his lamp with his jacket and was now on Jayce’s bed. One of his tall boots was halfway off his leg and he was staring at his feet blankly like he had forgotten what he was doing. Fuck his life.

Declan blinked up in surprise when Jayce walked into the room. “My boot broke.”

Yeah, just fucking perfect. Growling, Jayce knelt down, pulling at Declan’s boot. It wouldn’t budge and he had the horrible notion that he was going to have to unlace the godawful things. Then he found the zipper on the side. De-booted, he tapped Declan’s arms until the kid lifted them, then pulled his silky shirt up and over his head.

“Whoa, hold on,” Declan mumbled when Jayce reached for his belt. The brunette pushed himself up, trying to stand, only to stumble forward as he tripped over his boots. “Crap.”

“Stop moving,” Jayce ordered exasperatedly as he saved the boy from the ground again. It was hard enough to get him changed while trying not to look at him. Jayce refused to perv out on his little brother no matter how milky white his skin looked. “Where do you keep your pajamas?”

The question taking a moment to sink in, Declan finally pointed to the corner of the room where he kept his clothes’ hamper. Jayce took a step to leave, but Declan grabbed him, his knees wobbling unsteadily. “Wait… Dizzy,” he giggled, nearly falling again just standing still.

“Declan…” He was annoying as fuck, but D’s smile was heartwarming and made his eyes sparkle. The kid really didn’t smile much anymore. Shaking his head, Jayce tried to walk the boy over to his bed again, but the kid’s feet weren’t budging. “Come on. One foot in front of the other.”

Snickering, Declan made an attempt, managing to step on Jayce’s foot and slide down his body as he immediately fell forward.

Jayce inhaled sharply, his senses suddenly on high alert. Declan’s hands were on his hips, his face pressed into his abs, chest grinding firmly against his dick with only his thin pajama pants between them. Awkward. Especially when his brother looked up at him, his stunningly blue eyes gleaming, lush lips twisted in a smile that could only be defined as sexy. Very awkward. Getting hard awkward.

Swallowing, Jayce wrapped an arm under Declan’s shoulders and pulled him up to his feet, trying to ignore the fact that his brother was shirtless and very warm. He was determined to drag the kid to his bed and get the fuck out.

Declan gasped, his eyes wide as he stumbled and fell flush against Jayce, his face tucking into the crook of the taller boy’s neck. God, if he could just get this done before it got any weirder…

And now D was licking his neck.

“You have a very… very nice neck.”

“Please don’t suck my blood. I’m very fond of it remaining in my body.” Jayce dragged him as best he could because his brother had managed to go limp while at the same time clinging to him. It would be easier to just lift him but that would involve grabbing his ass, or thighs… Nope. Not happening. He had to drag him.

Declan snickered into his throat, his breath hot and tickling as he now tried to nip Jayce. Served him right for mentioning vampires. His brother was lithe and sleek in his arms, making it difficult to get a grip. He eventually got Declan across the room and to his bed. He turned, trying to push Declan down, but the kid was wrapped around him like a leech. His teeth kept sending sparks through him Jayce was having a really difficult time not responding to.

“Declan, get off me.” Jayce gripped his shoulders, carefully prying the boy back. Declan growled in protest and grabbed his arm. Jayce froze as their hips shifted. Declan was hard. Fuck. Seriously not cool.

“Ah… Sorry, big bro,” Declan snickered softly, his face again burrowed into Jayce’s neck. “You’re just really… really hunky.” Hands moving down his older brother’s biceps, Declan squeezed hard, fingers fanning and pushing his short sleeves up. “You have the sexiest fucking shoulders I’ve ever seen.”

Right. So apparently Declan was very gay and so horny he didn’t care who he was touching. “Declan, stop grinding your dick into my thigh and get the fuck off me.”

Jayce was having a really difficult time pushing the kid away. It felt so fucking wrong to have his little brother rub up against him. Wrong because it was his brother, but extremely hot because it was Declan, and Declan was really, really hot. Especially when his wet lips kept pressing to his neck, Declan’s hands now pushing under his shirt and touching his back, pulling him closer.

Jayce was a natural, hotblooded guy that could get hard if the wind blew, and he was trying to justify that now. Declan’s hair and makeup made the kid look so different from how he’d looked growing up. He really couldn’t be expected to not think he was hot. He had eyes. But that didn’t mean it was okay to act on it. It was just really difficult to set boundaries at the moment. Declan’s dick was rubbing against his and it was intense, and dirty, and the kid really needed to get the fuck off of him before he lost his mind.

“Declan, stop… Oh fuck,” Jayce groaned, one of Declan’s arms wrapping around his waist and crashing their lower bodies together. He tried to steady himself, his little brother’s weight threatening to knock them over, but it only pulled Declan tighter against him. God, he felt good. He had been dying to touch the kid and it was so hard to keep it together now that he was in his arms.

“Shhh… It doesn’t mean anything.” Declan’s tongue licked over Jayce’s throat, silky hair tickling as he nipped his flesh. “Fuck, you’re hot. Just want to… God, I want you… Want you so much.”

He was drunk. Fucked up, likely stoned, and definitely drunk. And his hand was down the front of Jayce’s pants. “Holy fuck.”

Jayce grabbed the boy’s wrist but couldn’t bring himself to pull him away. Declan’s fingers slowly wrap around his hard cock, brushing up Jayce’s length, teasing over his head. Jayce’s eyes closed, every nerve he had focused on those fingers first taunting and now bolder, wrapping tighter and stroking. “Hell, D. You really shouldn’t be doing that.”

He should stop him. He should really, really stop him.

“That’s it, Jayce… Fuck… Tell me you like it.” Declan licked up his brother’s neck while panting, gripping his other arm around the taller boy’s back. He tried to wrap his leg around Jayce’s, the room tilting from the move. Before he knew it, Jayce was crushing Declan into the bed, the brunette moaning beneath his larger body.

Shit, he had to stop. It was his fucking brother. His naïve, vulnerable, once sweet little brother that was totally messed up.

He tried to untangle himself from Declan’s long limbs, but the brunette was all over him, his knees hooked around the blond’s waist, arms tight on his neck. “Declan, come on… You’re not thinking.” Jayce was stronger, but he was afraid he might hurt him. The kid was just really drunk and fucking confused. He’d hate himself for doing this tomorrow.

“Fuck, don’t stop,” Declan gasped, then his mouth was on Jayce’s, his tongue shoving past his lips. Fuck. Oh, fuck.

There was something really fucking wrong with him when it came to his little brother.

Growling, Jayce grabbed Declan by his hair, wrapping the silky locks around his fist and pulling hard. Declan groaned, his head falling back in the harsh grip as he looked up at Jayce. His eyes were burning that crazy blue, his lids heavy, cheeks flushed, lips blood red. God, he so was sexy. Jayce wanted to fuck those lips so bad.

“Bro…” Declan whispered, his dark lashes fluttering as he panted.

Hearing the boy call him that sent a terrible stab of guilt through his chest. He was just a kid. A dumb, naïve, confused kid that had always trusted him to take care of him. But he was also beautiful. Declan had always been, even before he had started wearing all that shit on his eyes. Jayce had noticed more times than he had ever wanted to admit to himself, his sweet brother so hard to look away from.

“Don’t call me that,” Jayce growled, pulling his hair harder, watching Declan’s lips part in a low moan. Wet. His mouth was so fucking red and wet looking. Jayce pressed his thumb to his brother’s bottom lip, listening as Declan’s breath hitched. God, he shouldn’t. Really.

Eyes caught on Jayce’s, Declan licked his tongue out, moving over his knuckle. Jayce pressed harder and the brunette opened, pulling his thumb into his wet heat. Declan sucked firmly then ran his teeth lightly over the pad of his finger. A shudder running through him, Jayce pulled his thumb away, cupped his brother’s face and kissed him.

Groaning, Declan met him eagerly even when Jayce crushed his lips too hard, gripped his face too rough. He needed to taste him. Just once. Just this one time he would taste him. He plunged his tongue into Declan’s mouth, the brunette moaning, clinging weakly to his brother’s shirt, melting into him, giving in. It sparked something dark in Jayce, primitive and raw. He wanted Declan to give in to him. To stop his incessant fighting and icing him out, and just give in.

Rocking his hips down into his little brother’s, Declan’s thighs clenched Jayce’s waist, their erections grinding together. Their noises were loud and slick as Jayce kissed him relentlessly, exploring every plane, rubbing his tongue against Declan’s, biting the boy’s ripe lower lip sore and swollen. Declan didn’t resist, his reactions slow and uncoordinated the longer his brother suffocated him with every touch of his lips and thrust of his tongue.

It was so hard to hold back, so hard to not take all the many things Jayce had tried to not want from his brother. But he did want them. He had wanted them for the longest time. By the way Declan was moaning, Jayce wasn’t so sure he was alone with that crazy need.

“Jayce… Oh fuck, please. Touch me. Dreamed of you… touching me.” Gasping into the hard kiss, Declan grabbed one of Jayce’s hands, pulling it down between the crush of their bodies, knuckles scraping hot, bare flesh. He was sweating, his flat stomach slippery under Jayce’s fingertips.

He shouldn’t. It was definitely crossing the line. Fuck, kissing was bad enough. Grinding him into his stupid black bed was bad. But to touch him while he was drunk… There was no forgiving that. Jayce was supposed to protect Declan from the kind of losers that would try to do that to him, not be one.

“Please, bro… Please.” Declan pulled harder on Jayce’s hand, pushing until he had his older brother’s palm pressed against the bulge in his jean shorts.

Fuck. Oh fuck, he felt good. He was hard, and he was begging, and fuck, it was really wrong. “D, we should stop,” Jayce muttered, even as he rubbed his palm firmer, groaning as Declan bucked into his hand. “Fuck, that’s it.”

He was done thinking. Declan was whimpering soft cries as he humped his hand, and he was done trying to figure out just how wrong it was. Rolling the two of them to the side, Jayce quickly got to Declan’s belt, unclasping it and tearing through his button and fly. He pushed the boy’s shorts down his thighs, then his underwear—yup, even his fucking underwear was black—and pulled them off his brother’s long, toned legs. Fuck, he was breathtaking.

Pale everywhere. Long, slender, but still toned and strong. He was like something out of a fucking painting, perfect milky flesh and hard, flushed red cock. Jayce couldn’t stop looking at it, a question in the back of his mind of just what the hell D was on that he could be hard while so drunk. But he was. Dripping precum from his throbbing tip. God, he was beautiful.

“Jayce…”

“Quiet, D. Just lie there nice and quiet for a sec.”

Silent, Declan just watched, eyes glowing as Jayce began to move his hands over his brother’s body. Declan’s knee bent when his brother’s large palm roughly moved up his leg, his thighs spreading wide. Jayce slid his hand heatedly over the boy’s inner thigh, his smooth flesh trembling when he gave a squeeze.

He wanted D. He wasn’t supposed to, but god, he wanted him. When he kissed Declan’s nipple, the brunette gasped, and when their eyes met, his little brother looked near tears. God, he was fucking up. Fucking up, touching his brother because the kid was drunk and too fucked in the head to stop him.

“Please,” Declan whispered, his eyes caught in Jayce’s. “I’ll let you do anything. I just… I need you to touch me.”

God, he was so fucked up. Jayce could only pray Declan didn’t say that sort of thing to other guys.

“You’re drunk,” Jayce said hoarsely, trying to stop himself. The kid didn’t know what he was saying. He was just horny and drunk.

“You’re hard.”

The little fucker. Jayce ran his wide tongue over Declan’s nipple again, then pulled it into his mouth. Whimpering loudly, Declan’s fingers tangled into his shaggy hair. Jayce nipped at his slick bud and the brunette arched, and fuck, every noise his little brother made was so sexy. Jayce ran his hands down the sides of his taut body, letting his fingers dig in. When he reached Declan’s hips he held harder, sliding back to caress his ass. Damn, he had a nice ass. Tight and perky. Fucking tight.

Declan reached for his wrist again, Jayce letting him move his hand to his dick. “Please.”

He shouldn’t. Fuck, he really, really shouldn’t. Drunk. D was drunk. Don’t touch your little brother when he’s drunk. Don’t touch him at all.

He was heavy in Jayce’s palm, hot, silken flesh. When he wrapped his fingers around Declan’s shaft, the boy groaned, his hands coming up to grasp his brother’s strong biceps. He stroked Declan slowly, feeling his thickness in his palm, his ridges, wanting to memorize every perfect inch of him. When he reached his swollen cockhead, he let his thumb caress over his slit, wetting Declan with his own slick precum while the boy cried out.

God, he was sexy. He had never known just what the fuck his little brother had been hiding under all that fucking black.

“Jerk me… Fuck, please.” Declan’s hand grabbed Jayce’s wrist again, trying to get him to hurry the fuck up. If only he knew how he looked, begging like that. “Jayce, come on.”

Jayce leaned down, pressing his lips to Declan’s ear. “D, shut the fuck up and let me do my thing.” Declan groaned, biting his lower lip hard. “Okay?”

The brunette nodded, eyes meeting Jayce’s intense gaze, full of trust and need. “Do me how you want, big bro. Any way you want. Just do it.”

Jayce had to grip the bed to keep from swaying. Fuck, D really needed to stop saying shit like that. Declan didn’t know what he was doing, didn’t know what that fucking meant. Because Jayce wanted to be inside him, making him scream, making him sob his name. He wanted Declan to tell him he was going to be fucking good again, and nice, and talk to him like he used to. Jayce was fucked up, and Declan didn’t understand what he was saying.

Pulling his hand away, Jayce ignored his brother’s whimper of protest. He licked his palm while pushing Declan back on the bed, trapping him between his thighs. Jayce was fully dressed. It couldn’t be that bad cus he had clothes on, even if Declan was fucking nude as could be. The kid still had a few bracelets on; that had to count for something, right?

God, he was going to hell.

He was slick in his palm when Jayce wrapped around Declan’s gorgeous cock again, and his moan was fucking perfect. He watched intently as his brother’s flushed tip disappeared into his hand, only to have it reveal again as he moved down his shaft, all the way to his base, Declan’s hips rocking to meet every stroke.

“Bro, look at me.” Declan’s hand tangled in Jayce’s hair as he tried to turn his gaze to his.

Hell, the kid was going to kill him. “Stop calling me that, D.” Jayce met his eyes, his breath catching. Beautiful. He was so fucking beautiful.

Stroking faster, Jayce drank in his brother’s expression. Declan’s head fell back on the bed, his mouth wide as he panted and gasped between toe curling moans. He was dripping saliva, trickling down his chin and jaw. Beneath his broken gasps, Jayce could hear what he was doing to the boy, his hot flesh slick in his fist, slapping wet suction with every pump. Declan grabbed the sheets, fingers clawing, his back arching as he moaned again and again.

God, D. Get there. He wanted to see him come so bad. He was the sexiest fucking thing ever, and Jayce wanted to see his face when he came. For him. Just this moment. Just this one fucked up moment Declan could be his.

Crying out, Declan’s entire body shook with his orgasm, his eyes squeezed shut, muscles rock hard as he held onto the sheets. His dick kept jerking in Jayce’s hand, spurting stream after stream of seed onto his stomach. Groaning, Declan went boneless, his eyes weakly cracking back open to meet his brother’s ever watching gaze.

Jayce couldn’t stop. He couldn’t let himself think. He just needed, and needed bad.

He grabbed a pillow and shoved it under Declan’s head. Watching silently as he caught his breath, Declan’s tongue drifted over his lips when Jayce climbed up his body and straddled his neck with his knees.

“Bro?”

“Quiet, D.” Jayce ran his hand over Declan’s cheek, tilting the boy’s chin back while he pushed his pajama pants down and freed his achingly hard dick. It wasn’t going to take much. Jayce was so fucking hard, and it was Declan, his beautiful kid brother beneath him, staring at his cock like he’d never seen one before, features twisted in want. His blue eyes kept shifting, moving to Jayce’s face and then to his dusky, dripping cock. Then Jayce started stroking and Declan picked his target, his tongue touching his bottom lip as he watched his older brother jerk inches away.

He wasn’t going to touch him. Just this. Jut have him watch. God, he was beautiful. His lips were fucking swollen and too red. Jayce wanted to fuck his mouth so bad, but that was beyond wrong. All of it was wrong, but that was beyond.

Fuck, would D let him?

Exhaling shakily, Jayce pressed the tip of his cock between his brother’s lips. Declan moaned, his tongue sliding out, teasing over his cockhead, probing tentatively into his slit. Fuck. Oh fuck, he really needed to stop.

“Open,” Jayce demanded hoarsely, the world rocking wildly when Declan parted his lips. He gripped the back of the brunette’s neck with his free hand and slowly pushed forward into Declan’s hot, wet mouth, those red lips contouring to his thick flesh.

God. God, he was actually fucking his mouth. Jayce’s balls were so tight, he knew he was going to come any second. He held off as long as possible. One time. Only fucking time this was ever happening, and he needed to remember.

Declan made a choking noise when Jayce’s tip hit his tonsils. But Jayce kept pushing, needing to feel his brother’s tight channel, needing to make sure Declan knew he was his.

“God… God, that’s it… Fuck, fuck take it, D… Open wide and take my cock, bro… Fuck… good boy… you’re so fucking good.” Jayce didn’t even know what he was saying anymore. He was grinding the back of Declan’s throat, his fingers painful in the brunette’s sweaty hair, taking his mouth hard while his little brother whimpered beneath his thighs. He couldn’t stop, couldn’t fucking think with Declan’s mouth so hot, throat so tight, those fucking lips of his so red.

Jayce held the boy still when he pulled out, forcing Declan to feel every dirty, sticky drop of cum as he covered his beautiful face with all his jizz. D’s moans were fucking music; low, raspy, filthy. God, that was it. All over his face. Covered in him. His bro. His.

Declan had tears in his eyes as he gasped to breathe. Jayce had been too rough. Could have hurt him… Could have done a lot of things he didn’t do. Fuck. Fuck.

Jayce rolled off his brother, pulled his pants up and left. Declan called for him and he nearly turned back. Bad idea. Really bad idea. The kid was drunk, covered in cum, and damn fucking easy prey for the many things he wanted to do. Jayce forced himself to walk to the bathroom and splash his face with cold water. He needed to stop the crazy in his head, the maddening heat that had won way too much already.

Declan was asleep when Jayce got the nerve to return with a wet facecloth in hand. He was exactly how he’d left him, sprawled out nude on top of his bedspread. Jayce washed him off, admiring his porcelain flesh, brushing the bruises already starting to bloom on his hips where he had dug in too hard.

Fucked up. He had fucked up big, and he had no clue how the fuck he was going to fix it.

Maybe D wouldn’t remember? He was really drunk, saying stupid shit about dreaming. Maybe he’d just think it was a dream if he remembered anything at all.

Part of Jayce wanted Declan to remember. It wasn’t the good part of him. It was the fucked up part that wanted him to be his even though it would ruin the kid. Ruin their parents. Ruin fucking everything.

Shit, when had this happened? When had he gotten so crazy over D?

Finding Declan’s pajamas by his hamper, he slipped them on his sleeping brother. Then he arranged Declan under the covers, making sure he was warm. Jayce sat on his bed for the longest time, watching him sleep. Hating himself. Hating how he still wanted him, even then.

God, he was so fucked up.

Declan wouldn’t remember. He was drunk and wouldn’t remember.