Blood Of The Wilde - 2. "The Hanged Man"

[3 years earlier]

"What the fuck are you doing, Bowie?" The strapping young man hollered from the other side of the street. "Let's go!" He pressed.

Bo had been standing on a sidewalk for some time, his feet firmly grounded as his body wavered from one side to the other, battling his drunken state. Yet his eyes were steady, locked on a giant outdoor billboard beaming with lights, signaling the entrance to "The Beatnik Palace," the infamous hotel from Iron Saint's bohemian district. He stared at a particular window, eyes unflinching, as he followed the shadows that graciously moved around inside.

It was Bowie's 18th birthday, and he had secretly sneaked out of the house to celebrate, aware that his actions would probably result in punishment the following day. But then again, it rarely took much for Nora to mistreat Bowie. His presence in that part of the district was motive enough to cause a potential storm in the Wilde household. Not that they cared for the boy's well-being, but rather the consequences it would have on their public image, which seemed to fuel Bo's rebellious activities even more.

"I'm coming!" Bo hollered back, jumping down the sidewalk and into the busy road, dodging the cars as he went. "Where are we going?" He asked as he hopped back onto the sidewalk, his friend catching him.

"Mome's." The young man uttered as Bo's eyes glanced back at the window. "Dude, don't." The friend advised.

"What?" Bo replied with a mischievous grin on his face.

"If your parents find out you were inside, you'll never leave the house again." The friend counseled. "Besides, it's just prostitutes and deviants." He quibbled. Bo pushed his friend away from him, frowning with disgust.

"You sound like a fucking bigot, bro." Bowie reprimanded.

"Dude!" His friend uttered, chuckling nervously. "Look." He directed, rolling his arm around Bo's neck and referring his attention to the group they were with, where several girls glanced back at Bo, clearly enamored by his beauty and charm. "They're dying to fuck you." The friend teased. Bo chuckled, but his reaction felt feigned.

He got pulled across the street. His body was seemingly present while his mind wandered, lost in the night's chaos. They eventually stationed near an outdoor pub in the periphery of the bohemian district. They sat there for hours, drinking and celebrating their reckless youth. But not Bo. Among the loud commotion around him, the boy sat silently. His spirit was enveloped in a profound sadness that seemed to mute everything around him. Bowie was stuck, his youth hijacked by the darkness that had been placed around his heart, an invisible layer that caged all the light he harbored inside. And it was only when the intense chattering and loud music around him became overbearing, gradually intensifying, his body shot from his chair like a slingshot.

"Dude, where are you going?" His friend asked, arms raised in the air.

"For a walk," Bo replied without even looking back.

He crossed the road to the other side, his body steering him as it rushed past the sidewalk and back inside the bohemian district. Soon, the boy was back in the same spot, his chin stretched as his eyes gazed up at the Beatnik Palace. And then, Bo's recklessness finally kicked in, and his lips pulled into a smile before he rushed across the small square and walked inside the building.

His eyes flared in awe as soon as he pushed the large door open and entered the massive hallway. Inside, a cacophony of music, color, and human joy overcame him. An irrational sense of belonging overcame him, and his feet flowed among the crowd. As he did, heads veered, compelled to marvel at the boy's alluring magnificence.

"Hey, handsome!" One flamboyant man hollered. Bo raised his chin in greeting, causing the man and his group to giggle privately.

"Is that...?" Another voice muttered from the crowd.

By then, Bowie had slid inside the center of the large room. A band was playing on top of a small stage, dressing like one of those old itinerant theater companies. As the boy scanned the room, he could recognize some faces. Guests who frequently visited his parent's house sat in chairs with underage male and female prostitutes sitting on their laps, hysterically laughing as they brushed their greasy fingers up their thighs. But like a silent pledge of secrecy, they would glance at Bo and resume their affairs, seemingly unbothered by his presence. They knew he would never utter a word about what he saw.

Bo's senses seemed heightened as he felt the strange yet fascinating and electric energy around him. This ballroom was a place of freedom, unconventional beauty, and lack of judgment. Everything Bo longed for but couldn't have, as well as the antithesis of his household, his prison. He was so distracted he didn't even realize how badly he needed to piss, so he stretched his neck, trying to peek over the crowd. He spotted a toilet on the far left side of the dance hall, so he quickly flew through the progressively tighter mass of people who seemed eager to brush shoulders with the young hunk. He walked inside the bathroom, the pungent smell rushing up his nostrils, and squeezed inside the only available stall. He unzipped his pants, pulling his dick out before he started pissing, head tilted back as he stared at the ceiling. Bo released a soft moan, and a cold shiver ran through his body as he felt his bladder empty. Once he was done, he pulled his pants up and zipped them, feeling immediately sober. He went to the sink and washed his hands, shaking them as he walked out.

Suddenly, as he was about to dive back into the crowd, he heard a resonant yet soothing voice behind him.

"Hey there, stranger." The voice called. Bo turned, eyes scouring what he thought to be the most beautiful creature he had ever seen: a tall, ebony-skinned man whose dark tones seemed to reflect outwards, its brightness utterly mesmerizing. He wore a corset, his face covered by the most stunning makeup, high heels, and a sparkling opaque blue nightgown. "Don't be scared. I won't bite," he teased.

"I'm not scared," Bo uttered, his usual fire radiating from his eyes. The tall, ebony, bohemian drag queen scanned the boy from top to bottom.

"No. No, you're not..." She said, her voice lingering in curiosity.

"What's your name?" Bo asked, his enchanting eyes glimmering.

"Blanche." The ebony queen replied. Bo chuckled.

"You know Blanche in French means..." He mocked before getting cut off.

"Exactly!" Blanche exclaimed, smiling. It was the most beautiful smile—inviting, safe, and genuine. "Give me your hand," Blanche called, extending hers.

Bo paused, his body slightly flinching, before he took a few steps forward and offered his hand for Blanche to hold. The ebony queen turned the boy's palm upward, gently brushing her fingers over it, skating them along Bowie's lines. And slowly, her expression shifted.

"Such a short journey, already filled with so much pain..." Blanche mumbled. Bo stared down at his hand, confused. His eyes eventually came up to find Blanche staring at him. "Come." The ebony queen called.

"Where?" Bo questioned.

"My room," Blanche replied, immediately feeling the boy's hand tense up inside hers. "Don't worry. I don't want to fuck you, I want to read you." She explained, grabbing Bo by the wrist and dragging him out of the ballroom, past the hall, and up the stairs leading to the upper floors.

They reached a large corridor with rooms on each side. Some closed, some opened, with people standing under the doorways chatting and side-eyeing Bo as he passed. The boy could hear moans of pleasure coming from inside some rooms. Blanche turned the corner into another set of stairs leading up to a smaller corridor with only two bedrooms. She flared the door to their right and waited for Bowie to enter. Once the boy did, a bohemian dream unfolded before his eyes. A main suite, much smaller than his room, made grander by the scale of its festive and flamboyant essence. At the far end of the room, a decrepit balcony with a view to the main square, beaming with nightlife.

"Understated, I know." Blanche jested as Bo turned, his eyes scanning the room. "Come. Sit." She asked, sitting on a circular table covered with the most beautiful tapestry, an explosion of color weaved together into a giant mandala.

"So...are you like a fortune teller or something?" Bo questioned as he slowly walked up to the table, his eyes on the thick deck of large, rectangular-shaped cards Blanche held in her hands.

"I prefer the term truth reader. Blanche corrected as she shuffled the cards slowly, her eyes slowly latching. Bo observed, enthralled by the queen's effortless motions. Just as Bowie finally sat down, Blanche placed the cards on the table. "You cut, I deal." She instructed. Bo stretched his right hand. "With the left!" Blanche warned.

The boy flinched slightly before recoiling. He stretched his left arm and cut the deck in half. The cards were thick, textured, and layered with gold-painted trimming. Bo seemed struck by their beauty. Blanche brushed her fingers over the first card and flipped it around.

"The Hanged Man," Blanche muttered, glancing at Bo, who peeked at the card. It featured a giant cross with a man hanging from it by his feet. Blanche stretched her hand and pulled another card, placing it on the other end of the table. "The Lovers...reversed." She whispered, her eyes now dwelling on the card. Bowie pulled back and straightened his back on the chair.

"This is bullshit," Bo muttered, his eyes latched on the cards.

"Oh honey, that's what they all say," Blanche replied. "I see a glass cage holding three people inside. Three men." She articulated, her voice changing completely, becoming solemn, more profound. "Your fate is bound to a young soul with an emerald gaze." She continued, Bo's skeptical countenance completely dismantling. "Someone very close to you. But the connection will be severed...see?" She said, pointing to the second card. "I wonder..." Blanche mumbled before pulling a third card and placing it perpendicular to the second. "...a tyrant..." The ebony beauty whispered, a certain dread in her tone. Bo glanced down at the card. It featured a man wearing a crown and a scepter. "Someone who has built a world of authority, structure, and control. He's holding both of you inside it. Using you to quell his thirst while he mourns." Blanche muttered, taking her fingers to her face and brushing her lips gently.

"Mourns what?" Bo questioned as his body slumped on the chair, his nails fiddling with the tapestry.

"Something he lost and desperately wants back," Blanche replied as Bo's eyes skimmed down, getting lost momentarily. "But..." Blanche stuttered as she pulled one last card from the deck. "Something is blocking my vision," she muttered.

"What?" Bo interrogated, relying his elbows on the table, his body tilted forward.

"I don't know," Blanche uttered, seemingly surprised. "There's a fog around this specific event, which hasn't happened yet," Blanche explained as she pointed at the new card.

"Can't you pull another card?" Bo proposed.

"It doesn't work like that," Blanche replied, finally lifting her eyes to look at the boy, whose lack of closure was splattered all over his face. Blanche's eyes mellowed, an understated sadness creeping in. "I think we should stop," she suggested.

Bo's face froze before releasing a loud, belligerent chuckle.

"This is bull!" The boy uttered, falling back on his chair. "I don't believe you." He doubted, feeling a wave of heat building in his stomach.

"You will. In time." Blanche calmly stated. Her words softened Bo's inner turmoil slightly.

"I have to go," Bo uttered.

"You'll be back," Blanche said confidently.

No, I won't." Bo fired back, standing up and rushing for the door. But as he did, he felt Blanche's hand snare his wrist, stopping him in his tracks. He looked down at the ebony beauty, her eyes locked on Bo.

"I've had many good men come to me. Many of them underestimated my words and gave fate the middle finger. I've seen it happen more times than I would care to. But trust me when I tell you, kid...Nobody runs away from their destiny." She warned, placing her other hand gently over Bo's, a wave of heat climbing up the boy's arms. "What God writes, no man scribbles." Blanche professed.

The words pierced Bo like arrows. The boy took a deep breath and pulled his arm away from Blanche as he exhaled. He walked out of the room, his step fastening the closer he got to the hotel's main entrance. He rushed past the crowd in the main hall and punched through the front door, the fresh hair from the main square cutting swiftly through his body. It almost felt like he had been holding his breath for several minutes. Bo stood there, scanning that busy street, watching people pass him by as he contemplated the randomness of everything around him. He was lingering on the juxtaposition of happiness and the utter gloom that integrated before him. The dilapidated moral decay seemed to merge with an overpowering and unbridled freedom.

"Fuck God," Bowie whispered as he brushed his beautiful raven hair away from his face.

He started running as fast as he could, away from that place. And it was only as he reached the large metal gates of his house that he finally stopped, his whole body drenched in sweat. He walked inside and up the garden steps, over to the house, stopping momentarily at the pool's edge. He glanced up at Lucas' balcony, the lack of light from inside plunging Bo's heart into melancholy. Nora had forced his brother on a school trip, preventing the boy from being present for Bo's birthday. Lucas fought bravely for the chance to stay, but in the end, Nora had gotten her way, manipulating the still-innocent boy's mind to her will.

Bo's head collapsed between his shoulders, eyes on the still water. Then suddenly, a light popped up in the corner of his eye, pulling his attention up again. It was coming from Aibee's chambers. He smiled and sprinted over there, hopping down the steps to her porch and knocking on the door softly. She could see movement inside; it wasn't long before she came to the door, smiling as she opened it.

"My boy!" She whispered.

"Hey, Aibee," Bo whispered back, beaming as his heart filled with warmth and comfort. She signaled the boy to be quiet and come inside.

"Sit," she directed, pointing to the small kitchen table before rushing to the fridge. As Bo sat, she turned, carrying a small, round, chocolate-covered cake with two candles. "The candles are from last year. I had to change the seven into an eight," she clarified.

Bo sat there smiling, his eyes on the modest cake Aibee had baked and stored in the fridge all day, waiting for him to come home. Aibee grabbed a box of matches and lit the candles, her hand steady and delicate. She flickered her fingers, putting out the match, and pulled away, her hands brushing over Bo's hair, landing on his shoulders before her soft voice began to chant.

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear Bo..." she sang, hugging the boy from behind. "Happy birthday to you," Aibeleen whispered, leaning in and kissing Bowie's forehead tenderly. Make a wish," she said.

Bo sat there, gazing at the steady flames, his eyes glistening with sentiment. He blew softly over them, a faint cloud of smoke rising before dissipating. He glimpsed up, the comfort of Aibee's gaze waiting for him.

"Thanks, Aibee." The boy uttered.

They sat together, and Bo tasted his chocolate cake, baked with the only love he was afforded inside that household. They giggled and chatted like a proper family for about half an hour before Aibee glanced at the watch on the wall above her fridge and ushered Bo out of her house. She knew that if Nora caught him returning after curfew, she would undoubtedly force some punishment on the boy. Bo rushed out of Aibee's house, up the steps, and into the kitchen, hoping to sneak into his room by bypassing the living room. As he reached the hall, dark and silent, he tiptoed into the main stairs. But as he lifted his leg to climb the first step, a raspy and resounding voice broke from the smoke room.

"Where do you think you're going?" William questioned, his voice echoing inside the house. Bo's body halted, his eyes closing with apprehension. "Get in here," William ordered.

Bowie slid down the steps, turning to face the half-open door. He could see the smoke coming from inside, slowly spewing out of the room like a ghost. He closed in and pushed the door open, flaring it. William sat at his desk, a bottle of whisky next to him and a glass in his left hand. On his right was a large cigar, which he proceeded to take to his mouth, taking a long drag before blowing the smoke in Bo's direction.

"Come closer," William demanded. Bo took two steps further, standing over the beautiful circular carpet between the door and the large desk. "I expect you to follow my rules if you want to live in this house and take advantage of the life I provide," William stated, his voice submerging the room in a cold ripple.

"Yes, sir." Bo stuttered. His rebellious spirit melted away, giving room to a submissive creature.

"Yes, sir, doesn't explain why you missed your curfew," William argued, his tone neutral yet commanding. He scanned Bo, his eyes strolling along the boy's youthful body before standing up, going around the desk, and stopping before him. William raised his hand and lunged his arm down, slapping the boy. A loud gasp broke from Bo's mouth, his head snapping sideways with brutal force. "Don't you ever disobey me again, do you understand?" William coldly cautioned.

Bo lifted his head, slowly revealing his plump lower lip, now dripping blood. William's eyes glanced at the boy's wound, bringing his hand back up to his son's face. But this time, he was gentle. He brushed Bo's hair away from his face, skimming his fingers down the boy's face, from his forehead to his lips. He brushed his thumb over the blood, coating it, and took his finger to his mouth, sucking on it. William groaned as his son's blood slid down his throat, his eyes closing in ecstasy before he opened them again.

"Why do you fucking tease me like this, Bo?" William whispered lustfully. Bo looked at his father, a single tear coasting down his left eye. Suddenly, he caught William gaping at the door before turning around and returning to the desk. He sat on his oversized leather chair, returning the cigar to his mouth.

Bo brushed the tear off his cheek and turned around, his body freezing in shock. Nora stood in the hall, one hand holding the stair railing and the other holding a glass of dry martini. Bo's eyes twitched in stupefaction as he gazed at his mother's eyes. She was crying. And for a moment, it seemed she was about to say something. But Nora's vulnerability quickly recoiled, her expression morphing like a fleeting mirage, giving place to profound disgust. She slowly turned around, climbing the stairs, battling her intoxicated state.

"Lock the door," William ordered from behind Bo, his deep voice snapping the boy out of his momentary stupor.

The boy took two steps forward and pushed the door shut, the copper key turning on the lock echoing across those dark, somber halls.

[Present day]

Lucas lay in the sunbed, his legs crossed and his arms raised as he held a hardcover book. From under the most prominent and darkest pair of sunglasses he could find in his collection, his emerald gaze scanned the pool's surface. He had been silently watching Bo making runs from one end to the other, marveling at his brother's magnificent body as he had done many times before. But despite his best efforts, every couple of seconds, the image of his father thrusting his 11-inch cock inside Bo's hole as he wailed in pleasure would come rushing in unannounced. It had been like this for the past couple of days, and it seemed bound to get worse as now every minor interaction between William and Bo propelled Lucas' imagination to run wild.

What Lucas had seen the night before in the greenhouse was shocking. But the source of the boy's discomfort wasn't on what he had witnessed but instead on how it made him feel. Rather than be disgusted, Lucas felt aroused. And whenever he thought about it, his cock would start pushing through his underwear, hardening with raging ardor. The stiffness was such that it physically hurt. Yet, despite his body's reaction, what seemed to break the most was his heart's irrational, overwhelming, senseless, and unreasonable jealousy.

Lucas could live with the notion of sharing Bo's body with women. After all, he knew they meant nothing to him. But the thought of Bo offering his body to another man like that, let alone their father?

As far as Lucas was concerned, that was treason.

"What are you reading, princess?" Bo's voice questioned. Lucas was so absorbed in his thoughts that he failed to catch his brother coming out of the water. Bo stood before him, his tight black speedos hugging his perfect waist, exposing the line of his soft cock.

"Like you even care..." Lucas muttered, struggling to cage his annoyance.

"Humor me," Bo replied as he brushed the towel over his head, drying his long, shiny, raven hair.

"Wuthering Heights". Lucas responded coldly.

"Is it new?" Bo asked casually. Lucas knew Bo enough to assume he couldn't possibly care less.

"It was first published in 1847..." Lucas muttered in a purposely condescending way.

"Never heard of it. What's it about?" Bo questioned, walking up to the sunbed beside Lucas and falling over it unceremoniously.

"It's about a fucked up family. Amongst other things." Lucas answered, his eyes down, deliberately hidden inside the pages and away from his brother.

"I could have written that." Bo razzed, chuckling as he adjusted himself in the chair, making a distracting sound as he slid the chair's metal feet on the marble floor.

"I bet..." Lucas murmured, an uncharacteristically burning rage building inside his chest. Bo glanced at him, squinting.

"What's wrong?" Bowie asked, his straightforward nature pushing through.

"Nothing," Lucas replied. He was beginning to feel agitated, and as he glanced at Bo, he could feel his brother's eyes on him.

"Fine. Don't talk," Bowie uttered, reclining his head on the sunbed, one arm coming up to his forehead as he tried to block the sun. But I know you, princess. Something's up," he added, pushing Lucas to snap the book shut and stand up.

"Can't take this fucking heat. I'm going inside." Lucas informed, visibly vexed.

He rushed up the steps to the main door, his heart beating out of his chest. He felt angry, betrayed, and overwhelmed by the sense that his idyllic image of his brother had somehow been tarnished by what he had witnessed a few nights before. As he blasted through the door, his breath heavy and struggling, his eyes scoured the large hall, clamoring for a way out of his predicament. Lucas's eyes glistened as tears crawled out of their forced prison. But the boy held them inside, closing his chest, preventing it from bursting open.

Lucas knew there was only one person inside that house that could quell his overwhelming anxiety.

The boy turned left in the hallway, opening a door leading to a large corridor. He rushed through it, opening a second door. On the other side was a kitchen, the largest one could imagine. Yet, eerily empty.

"Hmm..." Lucas mumbled, seemingly surprised by it.

He walked across the space, stepping on the most pristine white stoned floor, where four black marble countertop islands stood, spread apart by a few meters. He stopped before one of them and gazed at a fruit bowl, taking an apple from it. He held it and concealed it, crossing his arms behind his back. He strolled to the back of the kitchen, and as he reached another door over to the back of the room, he playfully tumbled sideways over it, pushing it open with his shoulder. A bright explosion of light engulfed Lucas, his eyes squinting so tight they almost closed completely.

He was now outside, in an entirely different part of the garden. He hopped across a stone pavement that led to some stairs going down. At the base of it was a small annex, no bigger than a garage with a small porch. As he neared the steps up the front door, he could see Aibee's head moving about the kitchen sink. Lucas smiled. Since he was a child, he would walk this path down to Aibeleen's house, and seeing her pacing peacefully inside the house as he reached the porch steps was one of the most comforting things in Lucas' life. And no matter how many years passed, that heartwarming comfort remained unchanged. Aibee's presence and warmth were reliable. A familiar feeling he felt he could always go back to.

"Hey, Aibee." He greeted as he strolled inside unannounced. He walked over to her, who slanted over the sink as she cut some potatoes and kissed her cheek. He could already see her eyes glancing at his unwashed apple.

"Give me that." She immediately bid, yanking the apple out of Lucas' hands. She turned around and washed it carefully, her rugged fingers brushing over the fruit's red skin. Lucas observed, his eyes slowly blinking as he took in all of the beauty in that mundane gesture. "Here." She uttered, passing him the fruit, still dripping with water. She dried her hand on a kitchen towel, folding it neatly and hanging it on one of the cupboards. "Come." She called, grabbing a cup of tea before heading outside and sitting on the edge of a long, wicker sofa.

Lucas followed her, laying sideways and lifting his feet in the air as he waited for Aibee to cozy up before slowly and carefully letting his legs hover down, his smooth feet landing on her lap. The boy sighed with contentment as his spirit finally regained peace. For several minutes, he lay there, eyes slightly droopy, eating his apple in the utmost silence as Aibee brushed her fingers over his bare legs. Her eyes gazed forward, lost in thought.

"Aibee?" Lucas muttered.

"Yes, baby?" Aibeleen's soft voice replied.

"Have you been feeling okay?" Lucas asked. Aibee's hand stopped over his leg.

"Why do you ask?" She retorted, turning her head to look at the boy.

"I don't know..." Lucas stuttered. "Just making conversation." The boy lied. Unfortunately for him, Aibee was a human lie detector.

"Lucas Wilde, I've known you since you were the size of a pea in your mama's belly. Spit it out," she said, her sights locked on the boy.

"She said you were getting slow...talked about replacing you." The boy admitted.

There was a brief silence. From under it, a soft chuckle broke from Aibee's mouth.

"Don't worry, child. I'm aware." She calmly stated.

"And you're okay with it?" Lucas questioned, visibly upset by Aibee's apparent calm regarding the matter.

"Ovecourse." She replied.

"I'm not," Lucas responded, raising his head slightly as he tensed up.

"Well, you're young," Aibee uttered, followed by a soft giggle. "You have your whole life ahead of you." She attempted to explain as she glanced at Lucas' skeptical emerald eyes. "At your age, life is an ocean of endless possibilities," Aibeleen stated, smiling down at the boy before her face turned outwards again, her gaze diving back into the landscape. "My life exists now, only in my memories." She uttered as her eyes glistened slightly. "Seeing you coming down those steps just now...that's enough for me." She finally voiced, smiling.

"If you leave, I'll have nobody." Lucas stuttered, his voice cracking. Aibeleen's head immediately turned, gazing at the boy as she squinted.

"What in God's name are you talking about?" Aibee questioned. "Your mother and father can be a bit much sometimes, but they love you. And Bo..." She tried to convey.

"...I hate him." Lucas interrupted, his lips pursing with bottled outrage.

Suddenly, like a dagger shredding through a piece of paper, Aibee snapped her fingers, her body shooting forward on her chair, forcing Lucas out of his momentary reverie. The boy's eyes flared, locked on the woman before him.

"Don't you ever say that again! Do you understand me?" Aibee demanded, her gracious demeanor now morphed into a powering presence. Lucas nodded, slightly intimidated. "Your brother would die for you, Lucas. He worships the ground you walk on." She conveyed, with overwhelming certainty, before her body recoiled, regaining its softness.

"If he did, he wouldn't..." Lucas mumbled as he glanced up at Aibee, her stare making him swallow his words. "Never mind," he concluded. Aibee took a deep breath, her ample chest moving up and down. "I just feel so...angry," Lucas finally confessed.

"Lucas, listen to me," Aibee said, her tone regaining gentleness and holding the boy's attention. Everything will be fine," she added.

"Doesn't look like it will..." Lucas reluctantly muttered.

"It's not about what your eyes see, child. It's about what your heart feels." Aibee replied, her smile melting Lucas' cynicism.

Aibeleen lingered, her lips stretched, until Lucas finally caved, his adoration for her crushing his sadness. Then, the boy finally smiled back.

"I love you, Aibee." Lucas professed, closing his eyes and letting his body tumble into a deep slumber. The tenderness of Aibee's presence had weakened the weight of last night's events.

"I love you too, my sweet baby boy." She whispered, taking her cup of tea to her lips and sipping softly not to wake Lucas, who now slept peacefully, his legs being brushed by Aibeleen's soft, wrinkled hands.

*

The next day, Lucas woke to the first rays of sunshine bashing through his bedroom window, grazing his soft skin. He pushed the duvet back in one swift move and fell back on the bed, his blonde hair bouncing over the pillow as his body stretched. Soon, however, this optimistic disposition turned into gloom as he remembered the greenhouse incident. Those images would jump into his mind, unannounced, like predators under the jungle bushes, waiting for the right time to strike, kickstarting Lucas' heart into a beating frenzy of overwhelming anxiety.

"Fuck this!" The boy uttered, slingshotting his body out of bed.

He rushed for his closet, opened one of the drawers, and pulled out yellow swim shorts, popping them on as he looked in the mirror, tilting his hips sideways, making sure they fit his ass perfectly and showcasing the soft line of his cock. Lucas shrugged, mildly convinced, and sprinted out the door and through the corridor, descending the stairs into the main hall.

"Lucas, honey..." Nora uttered from the living room.

"Later!" The boy hollered as he rushed for the door, trying to avoid his mother's presence at all costs.

He ran down the steps into the pool, his smooth, pale skin glistening in the sun. As he reached the marble outer line, he dove inside the water, a fresh wave coursing through his body. He lingered underwater, his eyes closed as his body floated effortlessly. Lucas was always comfortable inside the water, even as a child. The soothing silence was alluring to him, how everything seemed suspended in time, the unrest of the outside world momentarily subdued to that weightless energy. Suddenly, he was smiling, inebriated by the stillness.

That is until he felt a blast of pressure behind him and two muscular arms sliding underneath his armpits, pulling him to the surface.

"Jesus, fuck!" Lucas screamed, annoyed. "Bo, let me go!" He hollered, trying to free himself from his brother's grip.

"I'll save you, princess!" Bo playfully taunted as he bore Lucas, his arms crossed over the boy's chest, holding him. But soon, he realized Lucas' movements were becoming violent, so the hunk unlocked his hands, freeing him. "Chill, Lucas! What the fuck?" Bo questioned as Lucas swam forward, stopping abruptly.

"Don't touch me," Lucas muttered loud enough for Bo to hear.

"Hey!" The stud blurted out, his tone shifting enough for Lucas to notice the difference. The boy slowly turned, his whole face hidden underwater, with only his emerald eyes hovering over the surface. "What's gotten into you?" Bo questioned, his voice reverting to a softer tone. Lucas glided, slowly pulling away from his brother. "Did I do something wrong?" He continued, trying desperately to uncover the boy's logic. Lucas continued to pull away, his back eventually hitting the wall where the pool curved, a blind spot concealed from view. "Are you mad at me?" Bowie asked. Lucas' head nodded, his nose breaking the water's surface to breathe. "Was it because I fucked Chase's sister?" Bo continued to drill. But now, he was slowly moving in Lucas' direction. The boy shook his head, his green eyes locked on his brother, his breathing creating these small ripples in the water's surface. "Do you wanna talk about it?" Bo questioned. Lucas shook his head slowly as Bo's body neared him. "Can I at least hug you?" The stud whispered, his voice silky and tender. He was now inches from his brother.

Lucas' eyes blinked once. Enough for Bo to cease his window of opportunity and glide into his brother, their chests bumping together and their foreheads locking. Lucas' arms were latched on the wall behind him, his whole body rigid as stone. Sensing this, Bo slid his muscular arms under the boy, carefully gliding his hands up Lucas' shoulder blades and gently pulling him in. He inadvertently took a deep breath, spewing his scent over the boy's uncovered nose. And that's when it happened. Lucas' mouth finally broke from the surface, his lips inches from Bo's.

"I hate you..." The boy whispered, his breath entering Bowie's mouth.

"I love you..." Bo whispered back. As he did, he felt his brother's hands touch his hips, slowly skating up the sides of his torso.

"I wish you died..." Lucas stuttered, his defenses lowering rapidly.

"I would. For you." Bo whispered, their lips practically touching. His dick was rock hard inside his swim shorts, pushing through the fabric.

"Bo..." Lucas muttered, his tongue slowly sliding off his mouth.

"Lucas..." Bowie groaned, his lips unfurling as he readied to kiss his brother.

When suddenly.

"Lucas, where are you?" Nora's voice shot from the steps leading down to the pool.

A giant splash exploded as they pulled away from each other, their bodies flying over the water in opposite directions. Bo was now in Nora's sight, her eyes darting at him.

"Where's your brother?" Nora questioned, squinting. Bo struggled to determine if it was because she wasn't wearing sunglasses or plain old suspicion.

"I'm here," Lucas mumbled, gliding out of the blind spot. "What's up?" He asked, trying to convey a natural tone and failing miserably. He also overlooked that the tip of his 7-inch dick was poking out of his tight speedos.

"Your father wants to talk to you," she informed with a constrained smile before she shifted back to Bo, her smile disappearing. "Both of you," she uttered.

Nora turned around slowly, her eyes scanning both boys like an X-ray machine, trying to forcibly unearth the content of their privacy before she strolled back up the stairs and inside the house. The brothers stood there, their hairs soaking wet as their chests moved up and down, still struggling to cage their exhilaration. But none dared to speak, fearing their words would break the wondrous enchantment placed upon them. Lucas rushed out of the water, clumsily grabbing a towel from one of the sunbeds and sprinting up the steps. Bo stood there, paddling his arms gently over the water's surface, his long hair hugging his face. His tongue glazed his plump lips, still feeling his brother's alluring breath on him.

He eventually pulled himself out of the pool, clumsily drying his soaked body before casually walking up the steps to the house. As he stepped inside the corridor, Nora was leaning over the large mirror near the staircase, adjusting her white gold earrings, wearing a beautiful burgundy satin dress that hugged her beautiful figure flawlessly. Bo moved slowly, trying not to be seen as he searched for his mother's reflection. He stopped, mesmerized by how much they looked alike. But as his gaze lingered, her eyes locked on the boy like a predator.

"What are you waiting for? Your father is inside." She said, pointing with her head over to the smoke room.

Bo strolled to the hall and opened the heavy door, his eyes immediately locking on Lucas. He was standing in one of the corners, his gracious, long fingers playing with an old wooden carved globe, spinning it slowly. William stood behind his desk, one hand in his pocket, the other holding his usual cigar.

"What's up?" Bo questioned with a provocative tone. William's eyes glanced up. Bo could see him struggling to respond accordingly, but he knew Lucas' presence would tame his father's appetite for confrontation.

"Your mother and I are going out—business dinner," William informed, taking the cigar to his mouth before blowing smoke into the air. It'll undoubtedly extend to the long night hours, so don't wait for us." He continued, his eyes shifting to Lucas. What's gotten into you, Lucas?" he questioned with sober concern.

"Nothing." The boy mumbled, attempting to rush out of the room before William's deep voice punctured the room.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" He asked.

Lucas' body halted, inches from his brother. Their eyes never locked, but Bo could feel every fiber of his brother's body tingling. The boy turned slowly and returned to his father, who met him halfway, cornering the desk and stopping before Bowie. William stood there momentarily, his towering figure looming over Lucas before his hand came up. He grabbed the boy's chin and forced his head up. Then he brushed the boy's curls away from his eyes, scanning every inch of Lucas' face. The boy leaned in and kissed his father's cheek.

Time halted. From where Bo stood, everything felt slow and dreamlike. Lucas' lips lingered on William's skin, whose eyes closed in a pleasurable manner. But as the boy pulled away, William's right hand locked on his son's neck, preventing his head from moving as he brought his lips forward, now inches from Lucas'. He inhaled and pushed his breath into his son's mouth. Lucas's lips unfurled slowly, and his eyes opened, waiting for his father to open his.

Unbeknownst to Bo's will, inside his still-wet swim shorts, his dick throbbed violently.

"Go to your room," William told Lucas in his usual raspy voice.

Lucas swallowed dry, his chest opening up like he hadn't breathed for several minutes. He turned away and rushed out the door, his naked feet's soft steps echoing across the hall as he sprinted towards his room. Once he reached the top of the stairs, he stopped, glancing back in time to catch William approaching Bo, holding his arm and whispering something into the stud's ear.

That treacherous rage crept back, making Lucas' eyes twitch angrily. He turned around and raced through the corridor into his bedroom, slamming the door shut. He paced aimlessly around the room, his breathing hectic, his mind struggling as it fought the urge to pick something up and break it. He heard the noise of his father's car door closing, and as he ran for the balcony, his glistening eyes still managed to catch them drive off, the large metal gates closing behind them. And suddenly, an eerily unsettling peace came over Lucas' spirit. The air went soft, the light went dim, and the twilight descended over the house and the gardens, ushering the vibrancy of Lucas' emerald gaze out, which his saddened state had concealed.

He approached the balcony's edge and leaned forward, placing his elbows on the white marble stone. He took a deep breath and exhaled, the weight of the last days gushing out slowly, like blood out of a wound. His eyes scanned the grounds along the fenced perimeter before suddenly arresting.

Bo was walking down to the pool, lights coming on as he did. He tossed his towel on the sunbed, and without missing a bit, he pulled his shorts down, exposing his beautiful, muscular, smooth ass. Lucas' groin immediately contracted, his dick pulsating inside his moist swim trunks. Bo walked over to the pool's edge and graciously dove inside, a flawless entry with practically no noise escorting it. And as he broke the surface, he began swimming back and forth, his rhythm relaxing and his strokes unhurried.

Lucas watched, now struck by the only blatant truth his heart could accept. He loved Bo. And no action perpetrated by his brother, regardless of its severity, would ever change that. His adoration for that beautiful creature gliding its body on the water's surface was arbitrary, infinite, and unquestioning. Lucas turned around and walked out of his room, down the stairs, and out the front door, his body being guided by an emphatic force to which he seemed utterly hostage. As he stepped outside, his body began heating up, his face slightly feverish, dancing between hot and cold. And it was only when he stepped on the pool's outer rim that his body finally stopped. He stood there, waiting for Bo to turn around. The stud's body halted as his head popped out of the water, his hands sliding over his face and hair, brushing off the excess water. His body pitched slightly, exposing his pecs and broad shoulders, and soon, their gazes were locked.

Slowly, an invisible door began to open, letting the most empowering heat in and coating the air around them. For the first time in his life, as he allowed himself to delve into the depths of his brother's enchanting eyes, Lucas finally felt his heart open.

"I saw you with him the other night. In the greenhouse." The boy uttered, his voice crystal explicit, bold. Bowie stood there in silence, eyes gleaming as he gazed at his brother, prisoner to the boy's words. "I wanted to tell you this because..." Lucas stuttered, his eyes trembling. "Because I don't want us to have secrets." He confessed. He exhaled, his breath shaking, followed by a sense of relief. "I'm so angry I can barely look at you." Lucas continued, his eyes blinking, allowing his tears to slide down. When he did, Bo's tears followed. The stud's emotions chasing his brother's, perpetually bound to the boy.

Suddenly, the hunk stepped forward, his body soaring over the water, gradually uncovered as he walked up the steps. Soon, Bo's soft cock was showing, dangling between his legs. He walked up to Lucas and stood before him, waiting as if he knew what was coming.

Lucas pulled his arm back and slapped Bo in the face. But the stud's face didn't budge, not even an inch. His eyes were locked on Lucas. This seemed to rile the boy, so he lunged his other arm, wrist clenched, and punched his brother's chest. Yet, again, Bo didn't flinch, his feet firmly planted on the ground. Lucas's eyes quickly reddened, and he violently lunged at his brother. But this time, Bo's arms came up, effortlessly locking Lucas' wrists, the stud's strength completely immobilizing the boy's lashing. Then, in a swift move, Bowie pulled Lucas sideways, both their bodies tumbling over the grass patch just right of them, their bodies falling and rolling over each other. They eventually stopped, and Bo landed on top of Lucas.

But in an irrational move, Lucas lashed out, lunged his head forward, and bit his brother's mouth, growling like a rabid dog.

"Fuck!" Bo shouted, surprised, taking his left hand to his mouth and brushing his finger over his lip. He glanced down at it to find it covered in blood.

But before he could react, Lucas' head came up, the boy's lips hovering inches from Bo's. Then, Lucas' tongue slowly rolled out, and he licked his brother's blood off the wound he had just inflicted. He pulled back, and as he tasted it, his eyes closed, and he moaned softly. He lingered briefly before leaning into Bo, licking his lips again. But this time, unhurriedly. The stud hovered there, his shocked gaze slowly melting into a lustful expression, his lips stretching into a satisfied smile.

"Lucas...what..." Bo muttered in between heavy breaths. But Lucas' voice cut through his hesitation.

"Just fucking kiss me already." The boy pleaded.

Bo lunged, his body falling and crashing over Lucas, pressing him into the ground. Inside the boy's mouth, Bo's tongue danced, ushering his brother to join. Soon, their mouths were entangled in a beautiful choreography as they finally surrendered to their deepest desires with reckless abandonment. Lucas could feel the metallic flavor of his brother's blood move around in his mouth as it slowly trickled down his throat. The taste was intoxicating. As they sucked on each other's mugs, their breaths merging, Bo's hands began sliding down the side of Lucas' body, trying desperately to cover all of it. It longed for the boy's silky skin, and as the stud's fingers finally reached Lucas' trunks, he grunted in ecstasy.

"This is wrong..." Bo growled into Lucas.
As he did, he felt Lucas' hand on his neck, pulling him deeper inside his mouth. The boy's legs crawled up his brother, scissoring around his waist. Bo was now struggling to pull away as Lucas' hunger seemed to heighten his strength. "Lucas, please..." Bo pleaded as Lucas finally pulled his mouth away, his head falling on the grass. "I...don't want you to get hurt," Bowie mumbled as he stared at his brother.

"Then love me, Bo," Lucas whispered.

Time felt suspended, like a small tree branch under a soft summer breeze. Bo's eyes began to glisten. His tears struggling to get out. But then something happened. Lucas smiled, his lips slowly stretching as his emerald gaze plunged inside Bo's spirit. The stud's heart raced momentarily before suddenly stopping, slow thumps taking shape, seemingly pushing warm energy waves through his body. And inside Lucas' eyes, Bo understood how much he loved that gentle boy before him. The same boy who was now exhuming his soul from the deep tomb of sadness it had been shackled to for so many years.

"What God writes, no man scribbles..." Bo emitted, tears cascading down his cheeks.

Lucas pulled away, his smile waning slightly as his gaze became transfixed on Bo. They saw each other under a different light, it seemed, two souls whose history was finally meeting the uncertainty of the future, brushing together at the crossroads of time.

Lucas pulled away and stood up, his chest scurrying, exhilarated. Bo followed, and for a moment, they wavered, eyes locked. But soon, their faces began to flare, eyes gaping and mouths stretching before they both broke into laughter. Much as they had done so many times as children. A contagious laugh, vulnerable, raw, untamed, dawdling with childlike wonderment. And it was only as it died off that Lucas' body shot forward, running past Bo. The stud's head veered, his body following suit, and soon, he was chasing his brother as they both ran through the garden. It was the most beautiful moment Bo had ever shared. He had never felt so joyous, happy, so free. And as he chased Lucas back to the house, his heart wept with profound happiness.

Lucas reached for the main door, blasting it open. He turned around, giving Bo time to rush inside before he closed it. And, as the boy turned around, his brother was already there. The stud pinned Lucas against the door, his legs shoving themselves between the boy's crotch before he leaned forward and kissed his mouth again, a soft, gentle, caring kiss. Bo felt Lucas' hand slide between them as they parted, grabbing his hand. The boy smiled and pulled him, guiding his brother up the steps of the empty house into the second floor, through the corridor, and into Bo's room. As they entered, Lucas closed the door, the moonlight casting a blue spell over the room. He walked over to the balcony and stood there, the night glow reflecting on his captivating emerald eyes.

"So many nights, I sneaked inside this room to sleep beside you," Lucas remembered, his eyes overlooking the greenhouse. "The way you hugged me...I felt..." The boy stuttered before turning around to face his brother. "If what you said is true..." He uttered as he began to peel off his swim trunks, his smooth body blanketed by the melancholic moon. "Then who am I to deny God's will," Lucas argued, finally dropping his speedos to the ground, his 7-inch dick dangling between his legs, oozing precum.

Bo was spellbound, renounced to Lucas' melodic song, and dragged him to the ocean's depths, where their hearts abode. The boy walked over to his brother's bed and crawled on it, kneeling before Bo.

"I want you to take my virginity, Bo. I want you to be my first." Lucas whispered, his voice cracking with nervousness as he glanced down at Bo's 9-inch cock, pulsating between his legs.

They were the most beautiful words ever spoken. Bo's hands approached his face, skating over it before diving inside his luscious raven hair as he pulled it back. His heart raced inside his chest, the most unnerving it had ever been. There he was, his brother, the love of his life and the sacred object of his deepest desires, offering himself to him willingly. Tears tumbled from the stud's dark eyes, his heart and soul-expanding beyond rule.

"Okay..." Bo emitted, the nervousness slipping through the cracks of his voice. He took a few steps forward, his hands reaching for Lucas' face, brushing the boy's curls away from his eyes. "Are you nervous?" the stud asked. The boy nodded. "Me too," Bo admitted, chuckling slightly before his smile became a gentle smirk. "Lay back," he instructed.

Lucas obliged, his arms crawling slowly up the bed. He reclined, head on his brother's pillow, and lay there, his hands crossed and fingers awkwardly fidgeting. Bo crawled after him, his head diving straight to Lucas' legs before he began to kiss them, his lips grazing the boy's skin as he went up his thighs and into his groin. Bo lingered there, taking in the scent of Lucas' purity. Pear juice, Bo thought. The boy's skin was sweet, the smell intensifying as he climbed. The hunk stopped, his nose grazing his brother's cock, and he unfurled his tongue, skimming it on the shaft gently. Lucas' cock pulsed, almost in surprise. Bo smiled and continued, his tongue gliding up it, teasing the precum out. He could already feel the sticky moist flowing down as he reached the tip, so he licked it.

"Fuck." Lucas mumbled, his arms spread out and his hands gripping the sheets.

Bo didn't waver, holding the base of Lucas' cock with his left hand, pushing his body up slightly, and diving his mouth into his brother's cock. There was no testing the waters. Bo knew precisely what he was doing. And seconds later, the stud's head bounced up and down Lucas' pink shaft.

"Oh my God..." The boy exclaimed, his whole body tensing up as he felt his brother's warm mouth hug his dick in a way that his hand never did. Bo's lush lips hugged the soft wall of his delicate skin, and the stud's tongue glazed his gland like a soft brush. "Bo, wait..." Lucas whispered. But this only enticed the stud further, his head bobbing faster, the slurping sounds becoming more pronounced. "Bo, I..." Lucas warned before he felt a jolt of electricity firing in his stomach and dissipating to his whole body, making it clench.

And just like that, he began firing inside his brother's mouth. But rather than stopping, Bo kept going, his mouth sucking the boy's cum out of him. Lucas' ass clenched, levitating from the bed, making him push his cock even deeper inside Bo's mouth, who moaned in complete ecstasy. His brother's cum was sweet, pleasurable, and warm, aligning perfectly with Bo's palate. Bo pulled away, his lips holding on to Lucas' dick until the last second before detaching with a loud popping sound. As he glanced up, he saw the boy covering his face with his hands. Bo giggled.

"Stop laughing!" Lucas yelled, which made Bo laugh even harder before the stud straightened himself, his legs sliding between his brother's.

"Don't worry. I'll make you cum again." The stud teased before pausing as he glanced down at the boy, his emerald eyes peeking from under his fingers. "Are you weirded out?" Bo questioned. Lucas shook his head. "Then let me see you." The hunk whispered, his voice like a siren song, enchanting. Lucas pulled his hands away, fingers sliding off like liquid. "You're so fucking beautiful." The stud stated, overcome with sentiment.

He dove down, letting his toned body fall on top of his brother, his pelvis now hugging the boy's crack, the tip of his hard cock teasing his brother's pucker. He raised his arms and held Lucas' head in his hands, feeling the boy's hands slowly crawl around his back, stopping inches above his muscular ass. He lay there, looking at Lucas, their gaze unyielding as his ass danced slowly, honing their dicks together. Lucas was still hard, his damp dick glazing Bo's. The moment became so intense that suddenly, Lucas' body lunged forward, and he hugged Bo, pulling the stud into him. Bo plunged his face inside the boy's neck, sniffing it. Then, the stud's hands began traveling down along Lucas' body, brushing his ass and landing on the boy's thighs.

"Bo..." Lucas whispered.

"Hmm?" Bo mumbled, his voice muddled, buried inside his brother's soft skin.

"I want you inside me." Lucas pleaded, his breath hectic and lustful. From under the boy's neck, Bo smiled, his soul beaming.

"Turn around then." Bo directed, pulling away enough for Lucas to gently roll under him, his back facing the stud, who slowly descended, taking his face to the boy's peach.

"What are you doing?" Lucas asked, intrigued. His neck snapped back as he tried to look at his brother's actions.

"Getting you ready," Bo grunted with desire. He grabbed Lucas' cheeks and spread them, unleashing the boy's scent and unveiling his flawless pink sphincter. "Jesus Christ, will you fucking look at that..." Bo admired, in awe. His breath blew over his brother's delicate skin as he spoke, and the boy giggled, propelling his hole to pucker.

Bo lunged forward, industrially gliding his tongue over it from the sack into the hole, slowly inserting the tip of his tongue. In seconds, Lucas' demeanor shifted, and he released a sharp moan, almost surprised by this new sensation. Sensing this, Bo went all in, his face now buried inside his brother's crack as he viciously chummed on it, grunting lustfully. The stud was in complete rapture, his hard cock throbbing between his legs as his tongue swirled inside Lucas' delicious taint.

Bo was going all out, giving Lucas the pleasure he deserved while at the same time ensuring the boy's hole would be ready for what was to come. And soon, Lucas' ass started lifting, inducing his brother's hungry tongue to feast on him with vigor and intensity. The boy's hands slid under his body, unconsciously reaching for his cock. But Bo's hand came rushing up, stopping them.

"Don't touch it." The stud commanded.

He slid his arms under the boy, wrapping them around his waist and locking his wrists behind his back, just inches from his ass. Then he dove his tongue back inside, and a beautiful and harmonious cacophony of slurping sounds broke inside Bo's room. For over twenty minutes, the stud rimmed his brother's hole. By the time he pulled away, the boy was lying in a pool of his precum.

He grabbed the boy's ankles and rolled him over. Then he leaned forward and enveloped his right arm under him, lifting his body. Lucas felt drunk, his eyes glazed with ecstasy as he hovered over the bed inside his brother's embrace. Bo landed the boy's body over the pillows gracefully and delicately.

"Put your legs up." Bo directed, his fingers brushing Lucas' legs, climbing them. "Like this." He uttered, placing the boy's cafes on his muscular shoulders. He took his hand to his mouth and let a giant ball of spit fall on it, taking it to his dick and coating the 9 inches with it. He remained there, gazing at Lucas' eyes as he stroked his cock.

"Will it hurt?" Lucas asked, his voice cracking with nervousness.

"Yes. But only for a bit." Bo replied, his devotion to his brother ushering the truth out of him. He leaned forward, the tip of his hard dick touching Lucas' sphincter. Bo pushed his hips slowly into the boy, his shaft slowly spreading the walls. Lucas gasped, his mouth opening as if a scream was imminent. But no sound evaded his lips. "Don't take your eyes off me, Lucas..." Bo whispered, his eyes struggling to keep steady, given the sheer pleasure that inundated his body. "Keep them on me." The stud directed, swinging his hips back and forth, training the hole with patience, allowing it to extend.

And it was then, as he pushed his hip forward, feeling Lucas' walls spread open, that Bo finally surrendered to the blatant truth before him.

"Now..." the stud moaned. "You'll always belong to me," Bo uttered, his eyes glazing with emotion. And no one else," he cried.

"Bo..." Lucas stuttered, his mouth still gaping as he fought the pain away, obeyingly keeping his eyes on his brother.

But before any more words could flee the boy's mouth, Bo's body dove forward, collapsing on top of Lucas, the entire length of the stud's cock sliding inside him. Their foreheads butted gently, and they stayed there momentarily, their breaths merging into an intoxicating scent that enveloped them. A loud gasp broke from Lucas' mouth. Bo grinned, unfurling his mouth and kissing his brother passionately, their breaths chaperoning their tongue movements as they laced together.

"Bo..." Lucas moaned inside the stud's mouth, forcing him to pull away. But Bo's passion was unrelenting, and his teeth lingered near the boy's plump lips, biting them.

"Shhh..." Bo uttered. "It's okay. I got you." He whispered as his thrusts became faster, his ass lifting into the air and lunging down graciously inside his brother's ass, unleashing the boy's aroused moans. "I'm gonna fuck you real good. So you never forget this." Bo pledged, his hips pumping energetically now.

His long hair bounced in front of his face, untamed and unbridled, like his lust. And that's when he felt Lucas' hands pull it aside, unveiling the stud's dark and profound gaze. Bo's eyes trembled, and the world around him became blurred. Nothing existed except Lucas and the warmth that emanated from the boy's insides. A heat that forced its way inside the stud's broken heart, mending it.

"My...prince," Bo murmured as his pelvis continued to push inside the boy's now fully stretched hole.

"My shield," Lucas whispered back, his words finally sealing the bond of their implicit vow.

Bo's eyes rolled to the back of his head, his pleasure too formidable to bear. If death had swooped in and touched his shoulder, Bo would have gladly accepted it. The happiness he felt was overwhelming, so Bo closed his eyes as he unloaded inside his brother's hole, desperately attempting to crystallize every string of cum spewing from his dick, encapsulating the essence of that moment. So that it would stay with him forever, and he would never forget the sheer joy he felt at that moment.

"Oh my God..." Lucas' muffled voice spoke from under him, his face buried inside his brother's chest. The boy's body bounced up and down along the mattress as Bo brought his orgasm to a homerun.

The hunk slowly pulled back, his dick sliding off Lucas' hole. As the last inches popped out, the boy's hole queefed loudly before clenching inwards. Bo glanced at it, smiling as a few strings of his cum drizzled out. He slid down the bed, brushing his body over the sheets until his face was inches from Lucas' cock before he snapped his head sideways, tilting all his hair to one side.

"Jerk off. I want you to come on my face." He conveyed.

Lucas obliged, and he began to stroke his cock, its skin slightly flushed from sanding against Bo's pelvis. Bo pulled his mouth even closer and started breathing into it, teasing the shaft with the warmness of his mouth. Blessed youth, for it wasn't long before the boy was shooting again. Bo lingered there, offering his face as a canvas for his brother to paint his cum on. The strings were thick and warm, and Bo would greedily lick the ones falling close to his mouth, moaning as he did. And as Lucas' shivering hip movements began to subside, both brothers fell back on the bed, their arms spread outwards and their chests pumping air, exhausted.

Bo opened his nightstand drawer, pulled out a towel, and poorly cleaned his face before rolling his body and looking at his brother.

"You missed..." Lucas said, pointing to Bo's face, sounding mortified.

The stud brushed his finger over his cheek, collecting a string of Lucas' cum, and took it to his mouth, lifting one eyebrow teasingly as he swallowed it, making Lucas chuckle. The boy was smiling from ear to ear. Suddenly, Bo glanced at the clock on the wall, just above a large chest where his old toys were stored, and his expression drastically shifted.

"We should shower. C'mon!" He said, flying off the bed and dragging his brother by the wrist. He lifted the boy and placed him on his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, slapping his ass playfully. "Your Highness, it's time for your bath!" He acted, changing the tone of his voice, as he used to do when they played as children. Lucas giggled, his head tumbling over the stud's back, his fingers playfully skating over his brother's perfectly muscular ass.

He entered the large shower, placed the boy on the ground, and turned the water on, keeping his hand under it as he tested the temperature. Then he squeezed a handful of shower gel on his hand, walked up to Lucas, and started washing his back, the foam building up and sliding down the boy's smooth skin. Lucas' head tumbled between his shoulders before he exhaled profoundly.

"Are you okay?" Bo immediately asked, his protective instinct kicking in. Lucas nodded, his wet blonde curls glued to his head.

There was a long silence before the boy's faint voice finally cracked.

"I don't want you to go to him..." Lucas muttered, a sadness attached to his statement. Another silence followed.

"Lucas, you don't understand..." Bo stumbled, toiling to honor his brother's request and failing. And for Bo, nothing in the world hurt more than that.

"Then explain it to me." The boy begged. But the stud remained silent, the beauty of their moment crumbling as reality settled in.

"Fine," Lucas uttered, pushing his brother away, grabbing a towel, and rushing inside the room.

Bo sighed, his shoulders dropping down along with his spirit. He showered, dried his body, and walked inside the room. Bo lay in his bed, the boy's body curled up sideways, facing the window. Despite the gloom, Bo couldn't help but smile at seeing his brother's naked body sleeping in his bed.

How marvelous life would be if that were all there was, Bo thought.

He walked over and crawled into the bed, spooning Lucas' body. After a brief moment, the boy rolled over, facing Bo, his body tucked inside the stud's protective embrace.

"I love you, Bo," Lucas whispered.

With those words, silent tears broke from Bo's eyes. His muscular body squeezed the boy tighter, creating an impenetrable shield around him. Then he patiently waited as Lucas' breath turned heavy and his velvety body fell into a deep slumber before his voice whispered in the darkness.

"I will never let him touch you."

[Hours later...]

Lucas woke, his body jerking slightly as his head raised, eyes still murky. He pulled himself up on the bed, sitting and staring vacantly at the balcony window, the moonlight stroking his pale skin.

His brother was gone. And Lucas' mind inquired.

It was only when his senses began to heighten and an all too familiar light erupted through the window, bringing with it the muffled sound of music playing in the distance, that Lucas finally uncovered the reason behind Bo's absence.

Father was home.

(To be continued...)