Blood Of The Wilde - 7. The Anatomy Of Lies

"Holy fuck!" William clamored as he lay on the king-size bed, his hands holding Bowie's head as it bobbed between his father's legs, his lips wrapped around the hunk's 11-inch monster, swallowing the thickest load of that evening. William chuckled with contentment, his lips stretching as he gazed down.

Bo's head lifted, his deep, dark eyes sparkling with passion. In the back, Lucas played the piano. His long and delicate fingers weaved a beautifully mellow piece across the greenhouse.

A couple of months had gone by since the night the three of them had ventured into what can only be described as the most mind-blowing family threesome. The greenhouse had quickly become their private empire, a place where their lust and unbashful depravity could wander free and untamed by the moral boundaries of the outside world.

Despite this, it had been clear, particularly for Bo, how strangely and out of character William had been behaving lately.

"Claire de Lune..." William whispered, his eyes smiling at Lucas' smooth back as the boy gracefully punched the piano keys, his beautiful blonde curls swerving delicately to the sides.

"What's wrong?" Bo questioned before chugging a bottle of water down his throat, his eyes glancing at William's glistened gaze.

"Nothing's wrong," the blonde hunk said, rubbing his eyes with his hands and mimicking a yawn as he tried to conceal his momentary emotional stumble.

But if there was one person who knew William's intricacies, it was Bo.

"I know you," Bowie uttered, tossing the empty plastic bottle on a small trash can beside the bed, which by now was spilling over with cum soaked tissues and empty lube bottles.

"Then you know how I hate it when you try to poke inside my head." William fired back, his defensive shield rising immediately. Bowie crawled into William, nestling his bare skin into him. "See, now that's more like it." William groaned, his arm inadvertently pulling Bo closer to him as he released a deep breath. Every muscle in his body seemed to relax.

"You hate to cuddle," Bo stated, his eyes squinting slightly as his right leg crawled up William's thighs. William was letting his guard down, and Bo was milking every second of it.

"I've... been enjoying it more lately." William disclosed. Bo turned his head up, his eyes meeting William's, who glanced down. He lingered there, mesmerized by how much the boy resembled John.

"Something's definitely wrong," Bowie muttered, low enough for only William to hear before they both turned their heads to the foot of the bed, where Lucas stood naked and smirking, with his 7-inch cock pointing straight at William.

"My turn." Lucas excitedly proclaimed as he hopped back into the bed.

"Lucas, I need a rest," William replied, his head falling back and hitting the soft pillows where his back rested. But between his legs, his moist cock, still covered in Bo's spit, was already hardening.

"No, you don't." Lucas rowed, climbing into William's lap and saddling him.

Bo pulled up, sticking his tongue inside his brother's mouth passionately. He pulled away gently, sliding behind them, his body lying sideways, watching. Lucas leaned into his father and dove inside his mouth, moaning gently, beckoning the blonde hunk to take charge. By now, William's 11-inch beast was clutching the boy's crack, ready to fill his hole. Lucas' left hand came behind his back, grabbed William's shaft, and slid it inside him. They both groaned, their voices syncopated.

"For fuck sake, you kids are spoiling me rotten." William's voice broke from under Lucas' chest, the hunk's arms hugging the boy's smooth upper body with the gentlest touch.

William roared, chuckling in ecstasy as he rolled his son over, his heavy body now pinning the boy under him. He slid his knees up, spreading the boy's legs before finally pushing his pelvis up. Behind them, Bowie smiled with enthralling joy as he watched William's dick stretch the soft skin of Lucas' sphincter as he entered him. His own cock began to pulse as Lucas' moans of pleasure reverberated across the greenhouse.

A few days later, Lucas and Bo were hanging around the pool, their beautiful God-like physics stretched on the sunbeds as the scorching sun hugged them. Lucas had even bulked up a bit since he started training with Bowie down in the basement gym. Aibeleen had just dropped two large glasses of iced tea, from which the boys eagerly sipped when they heard footsteps coming down the stairs to the pool.

"Oh darling, there you are!" Nora's voice hollered her usual exclusive tenderness, reserved only for Lucas, loading the atmosphere around them. The vibe immediately changed.

"Shit. Yeah?" Lucas questioned, sounding slightly annoyed as he rolled on his stomach, his head facing the other way.

"Just came to ensure you were putting on your sunscreen," Nora replied, walking over.

As she approached, Bo's hand casually lifted his dark sunglasses, eyes scanning his mother. Nora wore the most beautiful black bikini with gold straps and a silk see-through robe. On her head was a wide white beach hat with gold trim, and on her feet was a 5-inch heel. Bo's lips stretched into a reluctant smile, admiring his mother's commitment to be incredibly elegant, even during the most mundane occasions.

"Oh, baby. You're dry as a raisin," she said, sitting on the edge of Lucas' chair, her hand reaching for the sunscreen bottle.

"Mom..." The boy groaned as he felt her squeeze a copious amount of cream into his back. But as her hand slid over it, his displeasing demeanor quickly shifted.

"I didn't spend 7 hours in labor just so you can ruin this perfect skin I gifted you," she uttered as she graciously spread the cream all over Lucas' back.

Every motion was soft, nurturing, careful, and determined. And from under his sunglasses, Bo couldn't look away, his gaze mesmerized by it. But then again, it had always been like that.

"There," Nora stated, closing the cap and punching the bottle on the small table where the iced tea glasses were placed. "Now, all I need is my dry martini. I tell you, Aibeleen is taking longer and longer to walk up and down those stairs." She complained, her dark eyes scanning the steps up to the house.

"Mom..." Lucas' muffled yet aggravated voice moaned from under his towel.

"Fine," Nora uttered, rising from the chair and walking to the other side of the pool. She stretched her towel over her sunbed, carefully tucked under an oversized umbrella, and gracefully sat on it, her long legs extended over it. She pulled her arms up and crossed them behind her head, letting them fall back as she sighed.

Bo pulled himself up, his eyes gazing at her. Then he looked at his brother, his puppy eyes requiring something. He seemed almost desperate.

"Lucas...?" The stud mumbled.

"What..." Lucas replied, his voice fading into sleep.

"Can you put some sunscreen on me?" Bo asked. But by then, Lucas was out and completely unresponsive.

The stud glanced around, hoping that in a miraculous turn of events, Aibee would walk down the steps and save him from his predicament. But she did not. The stud pulled up and sat at the edge of the sunbed, gazing across the pool. Nora had popped her huge dark sunglasses on and was reading a gossip magazine. The stud's heart began to race, but Bo, in a reckless and unprecedented act, stood up and walked over to Nora. The time he took to get there seemed endless, his heart pumping inside his chest. And it was only when his shadow landed over Nora, blocking her light, that she finally looked up, her finger lowering her glasses as her eyes scanned the stud.

"What?" She asked with her usual dryness.

"Can you put some lotion on me?" Bo asked, his voice trembling slightly. Nora just sat there, gazing at him. The silence was deafening and carried a murdering awkwardness with it. "Never mind; I'll just wake him up," he said. As he turned around, Nora's voice broke from behind him.

"No. Let your brother rest," she said before pausing, a deep breath escaping her mouth. "Sit down," she ordered.

Bo's heart fell to his stomach, his legs faltering as he turned and sat at the edge of his mother's chair, just in time for her feet to recoil slightly. Inside, he reverted back into that child, always self-conscious of his mother's presence, yearning for her love and respect.

Bowie's back now faced Nora, slowly expanding as he breathed. For a while, there was silence, and she didn't move or do anything. But during that time, Bo couldn't bring himself to say anything or glance back at her, so he just sat there, waiting. Deep down, the stud knew that she was there, examining him.

"If you had dedicated half the time you spend in that gym to studying, you'd be off to college by now, hopefully making something of your life," Nora said, her lotion-covered hands finally touching Bo's back.

"I like working out," Bo mumbled, his voice shy like a child's.

"Well, whatever gets you out of bed before 12 a.m.," Nora responded. Although harsh, her tone was deliberately faint to not wake Lucas. "When you were a baby... everyone would stop me in the street to say how beautiful you were." She remembered as her hands began to glide over the stud's skin. They felt unrushed, leisured. "I remember how repetitive it sounded. How dull." Nora stated before pausing. "Even though I agreed..." She muttered to herself.

The stud kept silent, his eyes closed as he relished in his mother's touch. Even after all of Nora's neglect, Bo still worshiped her.

"You really are a beautiful young man, Bo," Nora admitted. And for a moment, the stud felt her hands stop near his neck, her fingers diving inside his long, raven hair. She lingered there, holding it before she flipped it to the side, exposing his neck. "If only your ambition matched your good looks." She uttered.

Bo's head dropped, her hands rubbing the cream over his neck. At that moment, Bo knew that he would never have her love. Not the same love she had for Lucas.

"I remind you of him, don't I?" He questioned. And as he did, he felt Nora's hand freeze, her warm fingers turning cold.

"What...?" She stuttered, her hand resuming its movement, now slow and cautious.

"My real father." He restated. There was a surge of boldness escorting his words now. "Whoever he is..." He added.

A silence took hold. One that seemed to echo every mislaid word never spoken between the two. A bottomless and dark pit of unspoken truths.

"Yes, you do. Unfortunately." Nora replied. But she didn't sound cruel. In fact, her words were somewhat layered with sadness.

Bo was taken aback by his mother's bluntness, witnessing a glimmer of her true self pushing through. But soon, that surprise turned into something else. He chuckled, a fulfillment taking hold. Bo couldn't even remember the last time he and Nora had spoken like this with each other. They were, at this moment, closer than they ever were. Or would ever be.

"At least I have your eyes," Bowie whispered, his words severing the last string that tied them together.

"Bo..I..." Nora stammered. But it was too late.

The stud stood up, feeling Nora's fingers slip through the cracks of his hair, before he rushed up the steps into the house, brushing against Aibeleen, who was coming down, carrying a tray with Nora's dry martini.

[Milan - 2 weeks later]

William leaned against the glass window, one hand holding a scotch while the other moved into his mouth, his lips taking a generous drag out of a Cuban cigar. His emerald eyes scanned the city lights below from the penthouse suite he stayed in after a grueling week of business meetings and insufferable dinner parties.

"Ha bloccato la nuova spedizione per tre settimane." A voice hollered on speaker from the other end of his phone, tossed over the large chair behind him.

"Get that mother fucker on my hotel lobby tomorrow morning," William ordered, his tone piercing and intimidating.

"E come dovrei farlo?" The voice questioned, sounding awfully desperate.

"Figure it out, Francesco! E' per questo che ti pago una fortuna." William blurted before punching the phone and ending the call. His voice sounded strained and exhausted.

He walked over to the bar and refilled his glass, wandering around the room, puffing smoke into the ceiling. He had just walked out of the shower, his body still steaming, his blonde-soaked hair falling over his face, and a white towel wrapped around his waist. As he readied to crawl into the bed, his phone rang again. He groaned with impatience, glancing at the screen.

"Fucking disgusting, filthy bastard." He muttered to himself before answering the call, his face morphing immediately. "George!" He greeted with blaring, faked enthusiasm.

"William Wilde, you genius mother fucker." George Warren's voice hollered from the other end. "The way you conducted the meeting today was...I was hard the entire time! Their balls were shrinking under the table, I could tell." He continued, his scratched voice filling the hotel bedroom like a putrid stench.

"That's why you brought me along, George," William replied calmly, his face shrinking with profound disgust as he sat at the edge of the bed. His head fell forward, landing inside his hands.

"After this is done, I'm getting you a meeting with Governor Wallace about finding you that seat in the Senate," George announced. That was enough for William's interest to finally peak, his eyes shooting up at the phone.

"One thing at a time, George." He responded, trying desperately to contain his joy. This had been the only reason William had put himself through the pain and misery of entertaining George's company for the past year.

"William, I took the liberty of sending a gift to your room. It should arrive any minute now." George teased, his voice eerily debauched.

William paused, his eyes and lips smirking. He knew exactly what George was sending his way. And truth be told, as far as William was concerned, nothing seemed more appropriate at that particular time than to fuck a smooth twink's tight hole and blow some steam off.

"Then I best be ready, my friend. Cheers!" William declared, punching the phone rudely and cutting off George's laughter, which resonated in the back.

William walked over to a large mirror next to a spacious closet to the left of his bed and pulled his hair to the side, smiling before he heard three knocks on the door. As he walked over to open it, his dick was already poking through the towel.

"Come in. Make yourself comfortable." He greeted as he opened the door, his eyes glancing at what seemed like a young man. "You want anything to drink?" William asked, already walking back inside the room, stopping inches from the bar, his back to the door.

"No, I'm okay." The young man replied, slightly apprehensive. This took William by surprise. Most young men sent his way were pros, used to these kinds of engagements. William turned, holding the boy's glass in his hand, before pausing, eyes squinting.

"You look awfully familiar," he commented, trying desperately to discern the boy's familiar face. He was tall, with tattoos popping from under his sheer T-shirt, big hair, and a James Dean bad-boy vibe.

"We met at a party at your house." The boy explained. William took a step back, surprised.

"Chase? Your George's son..." The blonde hunk recalled.

"Tonight, I'm whatever the fuck you want," Chase replied, easing into the situation. William quickly realized the boy had done this before. Chase smiled at him, pulled his t-shirt over his head, and yanked his trousers off, tossing them to the side. He walked to the bed and crawled his naked body over it, his smooth ass already facing William. The boy lay on the comfortable sheets, stomach down, and looked back, his ass bouncing ever so slightly off the mattress, teasing the blonde's eyes. "Well...are we doing this or not?" The boy questioned.

William's cock twitched, eager to give the boy the best fuck of his life, but his mind was, maybe for the first time in his life, stemming him from doing it. William's soft voice flew across the room, his words layered with common sense and reasoning.

"I don't think so, Chase," the hunk said. The boy's body immediately recoiled, and the mood in the room suddenly shifted.

Everything felt foreign and immoral. And it was then, as William's eyes adjusted to this new clarity, that he finally saw the truth before him, clear as daylight. What George was doing to Chase, he had done to Bowie. Too many times to count in his head. What if it was Lucas on that bed, William thought? Alone, inside a hotel room with a stranger, at the mercy of another man's will.

After years of clouded judgment, William's mind slowly cleared like a fevered state settling down after its peak.

"Is it me? Was it something I did?" Chase questioned as he pulled himself up, bringing the sheets with him. "Oh my God, I'm so embarrassed." The boy mumbled, his face going into hiding under his hands. William rushed forward, walking hurriedly to the bed.

"Hey, hey, kid, look at me." The hunk called, brushing the boy's hair to the side, exposing his face, which he held inside his hands, forcing Chase's eyes to face him. "You did nothing wrong. And you're beautiful. Any guy would be lucky to have you." William stated, quickly restoring the boy's grace and dignity.

"He's going to be so upset..." Chase whispered, his eyes twitching with angst.

And there, at that moment, as he gazed down at that vibrant boy who had entered the room, who had been reduced to a fragile, insecure creature in a matter of seconds, William finally realized just how deeply he had damaged Bowie through his reckless, destructive, and selfish behavior.

"Don't worry about that. I'll take care of it." William whispered, pulling the boy's head into him, forehead bumping against his massive chest. From under it, Chase whimpered. "Chase...I know you won't understand this now...but trust me when I tell you: your father will never give you what you want from him. No matter how many men you sleep with." William warned, his words steering the boy's tears.

And for the first time, William relinquished his pride and offered his shoulder for someone to cry on. Chase wept under his comforting embrace for several minutes before his hectic breathing began to anchor, and his tears subsided.

"I can't lie...I'm just a tad disappointed." The boy finally uttered as he pulled away, his hands brushing the tears off his eyelids. "I'd want you to fuck me. You're hot...for an older guy, I mean." He joked.

"Ouch," William replied, struggling to hold his laughter in.

Moments later, they broke into the most complicit and tender giggle. Chase fell back, his back hitting the mattress. He looked at William, his eyes squinting slightly. Through them, the blonde hunk saw himself in a completely different way.

"How is Lucas?" Chase asked.

"He's...good. I think he's good." William replied, his voice choking a bit.

"I hope he finds happiness," Chase stated, his lips stretching. William's whole spirit beamed. He pulled back, gazing at the boy.

He wanted nothing in the world more than for Chase's words to come true.

"I hope so, too," he said, holding back his tears. Go shower. I think it's best if you stay here tonight. You can sleep in the guest bed in the other room," he directed. Chase nodded and hopped off the bed, walking into the bedroom, but not before stopping and turning around.

"He's lucky. To have you as a father." The boy stated, lingering on William before finally walking inside the bathroom and closing the door behind him.

William's head fell between his shoulders, a sense of failure and self-pity washing over him. How he wanted Chase's statement to be accurate. For him to be a role model for every father. But William knew the truth. He walked to the mirror, taking a few seconds to finally lift his head, jumping over his shame to face his own reflection. On the other side, he found every Wilde man before him bearing a history of misery, torment, and sacrifice on their shoulders. And looming over them, a shadow demon of personal corruption and inordinate greed.

"What God writes, no man scribbles..." He whispered.

William's eyes twitched in self-loathing as he realized that the moment he dreaded and from which he had run all his life had finally arrived. He had become his father's son.

Days later, Jeremy was driving William back home from the airport. The car entered the large metal gates, stopping just a few feet from the stairs into the main house.

"Thank you, Jeremy," William said before hopping off.

"Glad to have you back, sir," Jeremy stated calmly.

But as soon as William opened the front door and stepped inside the house, a sense of foreboding took hold of him. Everything was somber, quiet, and eerily dark. It was as if life was slowly quailing inside those vast halls and endless corridors.

"Aibee!" Nora screamed from inside the living room. She walked over to the doorway, her step quavering. "Oh, it's you!" she uttered, looking at William up and down with profound disdain.

"You're drunk. Again." William retaliated as he calmly placed his suitcase on the ground. "Where are the boys?" He asked.

"They went out for dinner. Like a happy, married couple," Nora mocked, turning around and stumbling back inside the room, trying to keep her dry martini glass from falling over. They're not even hiding it anymore," she said, belligerently chuckling as she bumped her hips against the bar, her hand going for the large martini bottle.

William followed her inside, his eyes scouring to ensure no one was around. He gazed at Nora, disgusted by her inebriated state.

"There's nothing more depressing than a drunk woman." He said. "Go to your room and sleep it off." He recommended with a sarcastic tone.

Then, suddenly, a sharp sound of glass breaking echoed inside the ample room.

"For the longest time, I thought I wanted this life." Nora's voice uttered as if she began to unearth her feelings. "But then I got it. Now... there's not a day I don't wish I could take it back." She confessed before turning around, her right hand covered in blood. "Getting inside that car with you was the biggest mistake of my life." She added.

"What about Bo?" William questioned. Nora grabbed a paper towel from the bar and closed her hand around it, stopping the hemorrhage. There was no emotion in her countenance, not even pain.

"Another mistake, for sure. It would've been for the best had I gone through with it instead of letting you convince me to keep him," she said, her words freezing the air in the room.

"You fucking cunt." William expressed, chuckling nervously. It was hard to surprise him, but Nora had managed to break through the blonde hunk's defenses.

"Cut the bullshit, William. Bo is a nuisance to both of us. A fucking rope around our necks!" She yelled as her control began slipping away from her.

"I disagree." William countered from the shadow as the room became engulfed in darkness.

"Well, you would, wouldn't you?" She provoked. "But we both know our son is smarter, stronger, and more determined than Bo would ever dream to be. And I nurtured Lucas, guided him, knowing that one day I would have to sacrifice him like a pig to slaughter so that we could secure the survival of this rotten empire." She conceded.

"I gave you the life you asked for," William argued, his tone low yet penetrating. He held back his anger with every breath that he could muster.

"And I gave you what you wanted. A son!" She screamed, her words punching through the diminishing space between them. "In fact, I gave you two." She needled.

"Don't you fucking dare..." William warned.

"You groomed Bo to fill John's space in your life, and you made the boy think he loved you like a man when all he wanted was a fucking father!" She stated as she began to walk over to William.

"Shut the fuck up," William whispered, his wife's words drilling into him like sharp knives. Nora was now inches from him, her mouth closing on his chin, her breath spewing into his skin.

"And I'll bear that cross for the rest of my life, but, by God, so will you. You sick fuck!" She yelled, her mouth barking like a rabid dog.

"Fucking bitch!" William yelled, his thundering voice escorting a slapping sound as his hand hit Nora's face, knocking her body back.

"I hate you...I HATE YOU!" Nora bellowed, her body suddenly flying forward, lunging into William. Her arms began to lunge down as her closed wrists struck him, and strings of blood from her wound spattered over his face.

They quickly entangled, both their bodies now one single mass as they fell to the floor, wrestling, legs kicking and knocking everything around them to the ground. And everything that had held their relationship together was crushing to the ground along with it. The muffled sounds of them hitting each other were brutal, disturbing, and animal-like. But William eventually managed to subdue his wife's rage. He stood on his knees, allowing him the upper hand, and pushed Nora, her back hitting one of the corners of the couch. She let out a guttural scream, her chest arching forward. William crawled back, his eyes on her until the shock wore off, and he took his hand to his neck.

"You bit me, you fucking cunt..." He muttered as he glanced down, his palm covered in his own blood.

Everything became eerily quelled, and all you could hear were their breaths. They were tired, exhausted, and utterly depleted—like their marriage. The facade they had worked so hard to uphold had shattered.

"I should have told John the truth," Nora said, coughing out her words. I should have told him Bo was his son."

As she did, a gentle wood crack squeezed between her words. She glanced up to find Bowie standing under the doorway, his eyes locked on the scathing scene. William turned, his eyes meeting the raven-haired stud, with Lucas standing right behind him.

"Bo..." William stammered before Bowie's silhouette vanished, his rushed steps moving towards the front door. Lucas ran after him, and William could hear his son screaming his brother's name across the garden, their voices gradually becoming fainter.

"Do you realize what you've done?" William questioned, his eyes locked on the door where Bo just stood. He couldn't even bring himself to look back at Nora, who was slowly pulling herself off the floor, her nightgown ripped to pieces with one of her breasts hanging out.

"You made me what I am, William. We're exactly alike." She said, chasing her husband as he walked out of the room.

"I'm nothing like you!" William hollered as he sprinted through the main hall. But he felt her hands grab the back of his shirt, forcing him to swirl around. Their faces were now inches apart.

"Oh, but you are," Nora uttered. I saw it in your eyes that morning we met inside that bathroom," she recollected. For a moment, William could swear he saw melancholy inside her gaze as if she hungered for that time long gone. We were a match made in heaven!" she professed, leaning forward and kissing him forcibly.

William grabbed her wrists and yanked her off of him aggressively. Their eyes lingered on each other. And then Nora's eyes shifted, her words and actions finally dawning on her. She shivered, and her eyes flickered before William released his grip on her, causing her to fall to the ground. There they were, at the end of their road. As Nora looked into William's eyes, she knew nothing was there for her anymore.

William turned around and slammed the door on her.

As he ran down the front steps, Lucas was already coming up, his green eyes gaping with anxiety.

"What the fuck was that in there?" Lucas questioned, his voice cracking and on edge.

"Calm down. Jeremy?" William shouted, the driver already rushing to meet him.

"He took the Wrangler, sir!" Jeremy shouted from the driveway.

"Fuck." William uttered.

"He was out of it, Dad...fuck...what if he crashes the car?" Lucas drilled, pacing frantically back and forth, his hands behind his head. "If anything happens to him..." He mumbled, caging his tears.

"Calm the fuck down, Lucas!" William yelled, his words stopping the boy in his tracks. His puppy eyes were now engaged on his father. "Let me think." The hunk muttered, his head scanning the property. William closed his eyes, his whole body suddenly shutting down, and with him, everything around. "Jeremy, the keys." He said as his eyes finally unfurled. The driver hauled his arm back and threw them over, William's fingers catching them mid-air.

"I can drive you, sir." Jeremy offered.

"No. Get Aibeleen. Tell her...her presence is required inside the house." William ordered. Jeremy ran down to the back of the house, towards the steps leading to Aibee's wing. "Lucas, come," William called, rushing down the steps to the garage.

He hopped inside the car, adjusting the seat and rearview mirror before turning the engine on. By now, Lucas was sitting inside, and as the boy clicked his seat belt on, William punched the gas and drove out of the property, the metal gates closing behind him.

None of them spoke during the first five minutes, the aftermath of the revelations still settling.

"Bo's uncle John's son..." The boy muttered, his eyes on the road.

"Yes," William replied, his voice somber yet distant.

"Am I...?" The boy uttered, his eyes glancing sideways. William chuckled.

"Just look at yourself in the mirror. You're my son," William replied, facing the boy and struggling to give his son a comforting smile.

"Where are we going?" Lucas questioned as the car steered closer to the coast.

"The beach house," William said, his foot pushing the gas pedal.

"But he hates the beach house," Lucas argued.

"No...he doesn't," William revealed.

The car drove for over twenty minutes, a mighty and overwhelmingly bright moon hovering over them. The night was motionless, probably the warmest in years, and it wasn't long until they were pulling into the driveway of a massive, two-floor beach house where William's stolen jeep was parked.

"Oh, thank God," Lucas stated, his hand going for the door.

"Wait," William said, grabbing the boy's arm. "I need you to give me a few moments alone with him." He proposed, facing the boy's inquisitive countenance. He could see Lucas's reluctance to oblige. "Please." William appealed. Lucas paused, acknowledging the urgency attached to his father's genuine request.

"Fine...you have twenty minutes." He replied, his back slamming against his seat as he crossed his arms.

William smiled, moved by his son's generosity. He walked out and over to the front door. The last time William had felt this nervous was when he was walking into the iron fence of their house, the day John visited him after he returned from abroad. He knew that once he opened that door, everything would change.

He turned the knob, a soft click escorting it. Everything was calm and subdued, but he could already see a pale yellow light reaching from the deck area just past the large living room. He slowly strolled across it, the shape of Bowie's back forming in the distance. Soon, William's shoes were stepping inside the deck's wooden floor.

"You just can't let me go, can you?" Bowie's voice questioned. He sat at the edge of a sunbed, elbows over his legs and his eyes gazing at the dark ocean further down the cold patch of sand.

"No," William admitted, stopping momentarily. He examined the silence, using everything he had learned through the years to conduct this pivotal moment. The truth was, this was by far the most challenging negotiation of William's life. "Even if I wanted to give you time to think, your brother wouldn't let me. He's waiting in the car. Worried sick about you." William explained, taking two steps forward. He could feel Bo's back moving as the stud breathed. "Can I sit down?" He asked.

"I don't..." Bo replied, shrugging. William pulled one of the other chairs closer to them and sat, facing Bo. His eyes glistened with emotion as he stared at the stud's flawless profile, which reflected John's youth and his own. "How did you know I was here?" the stud asked.

"They say we tend to revisit the places where we were the happiest," William stated, his voice trembling slightly.

"You're nervous," Bo voiced, propelling William to hide his face. His fingers nervously scratched the back of his head. "There's a human being under all that, after all," the stud teased.

"You're one of two people to know that..." William stuttered, his head still dunked between his shoulders.

"Did you ever love me?...Or were you just in love with what I reminded you of?" Bowie questioned, his dark eyes twinkling under the empowering silver moonlight.

William's head lifted, his emerald gaze glistening with emotion. That boy he knew, who had yearned for his love and affection, was fading before him, becoming nothing but a smudged memory from which a vigorous, assured, and mature man sprouted. William knew he owed Bowie the truth.

"Both." The blonde hunk finally admitted. He could see Bo's head nodding slowly.

"Of all the stupid things you did...this was by far the worst." Bo acknowledged.

"My relationship with John is...complicated," William mumbled. "I've tried to tell him many times through the years. But the thing about lying is... the longer you do it, the harder it gets to unravel." He admitted.

"What did you think would happen?" Bo questioned.

"I don't know..." William mumbled. "My plan was to raise you. Give you the life I knew he couldn't at the time. What I didn't plan was..." William stated before he stumbled, his words stuck inside his chest. "I watched you grow into the beautiful man you are. But each day that went by...the more I looked at you, the more you reminded me of him. I..." He choked.

"He deserves to know." Bo's serene voice conveyed.

"I know. I've been trying. But he hasn't returned my calls for months." William tried to explain before he paused, his hunched body lifting slightly. "Look at you. You really are his. Instead of being angry for what we did to you, you're worried about him." He said with profound admiration.

"It must be painful..." Bowie whispered. "To love someone that much and not be able to..." He stumbled, finally turning his head to face William. "If I couldn't love Lucas, I would kill myself," the stud confessed.

"Can you forgive me?" William beseeched.

"There's nothing to forgive," Bowie stated. William's eyes squinted with surprise.

"But..." He stuttered.

"I think what you did was wrong...but I could never condemn why you did it." Bowie replied. "How could I...?...It saved my life." The stud conceded as he stared down at William.

"Bowie..." The blonde hunk whispered as he felt every inch of his soul bow to Bo's insurmountable compassion.

But a determined force quickly surfaced from under the stud's forgiving nature.

"You need to fix this. You need to tell him. Until you do... don't speak to me again." Bowie determined his words puncturing William's heart.

"Bo!" Lucas' voice broke from the living room's doorway, his steps rushing across the deck.

"My prince," Bo whispered, launching off his seat and turning, his arms raised.

Lucas' body dashed through the air, landing in his brother's arms, their mouths immediately locking together in a passionate kiss, their breaths and lustful moans merging.

"Don't fucking run away like that again!" Lucas scolded his hands all over Bo's dark, long hair.

"I'm sorry," Bo whispered into his brother's mouth, his face joyfully opening up as Lucas' presence quickly appeased his darkened spirit.

William watched Bo carry Lucas upstairs, their love's pureness pouring through their every gesture and word. Inside him, his heart secretly rejoiced, knowing that, unlike himself, Lucas was bold enough to embrace his feelings. The boy's spirit was determined to honor his love for his brother unfearfully and unapologetically.

Upstairs, Bo kicked the door to the master room open, carrying Lucas to the bed before letting their bodies fall over it. They lingered there, their tongues rolling inside their mouths as they savored each other's taste before finally parting.

"Does this...change anything?" Lucas questioned.

"No," Bowie replied. But even if we weren't related...I'd still love you. That will never change," the stud argued.

"Good," Lucas stated, beaming as he pulled his brother into him. Bo immediately nestled himself inside Lucas' thighs, his cock hardening as he spread the boy's legs to the side. Their eyes finally locked, and silence landed.

"Lucas, I can't stay there anymore." Bo conveyed.

"I know. Don't worry, we'll figure something out." Lucas soothed. Bo smiled and leaned down, kissing his brother's soft mouth.

"All this time...I thought I was protecting you, my prince. But you were the one saving me." The stud whispered, his breath warming the empty space between them.

"Let's cut this prince bullshit then...and just be each other's shield. What do you say?" Lucas whispered back, his words warming Bo's soul.

As he gazed down at his brother's eyes, Bo finally found what he had been searching for all his life: peace of mind.

"Sounds like a plan." The stud replied, lunging passionately into Lucas' mouth. Their bodies rolled together as they began undressing, their hands already sliding under them, eager to claim each other's skins.

Meanwhile, on the deck downstairs, William sat on the same spot, now facing the ocean. He could already hear the distinct moaning sounds of Lucas being fucked by Bo coming from inside the bedroom window. William smiled, his eyes glistening. He stood up and opened the small wooden gate, walking down the stairs to the beach. He kicked off his shoes and dove his feet inside the cold sand, wandering closer to the shore.

Moments later, his phone rang. He pulled it from his right pocket and looked at the screen. It was John. William chuckled nervously before sliding his finger over the screen.

"Finally! Where the fuck have you been? I've been calling you for months!" He stated, both excited and slightly sore.

"Is this William?" A female voice uttered softly from the other end. William's eyes squinted.

"Who's this?" He questioned.

"This is Shannon. John's wife?" the voice explained. I was going through his phone and stumbled into your voicemails and the texts you two exchanged." She revealed with egregious discomfort.

"I see. How long have you been snooping around his phone?" William prompted.

A shattering silence broke from the other side.

"...For a while..." Shannon finally admitted. "Although I think, in a sense, I always knew." She conceded.

"Then you know his heart belongs to me. Still...you got to enjoy a life surrounded by John's company. Be grateful for that." William replied.

"He was right. Your arrogance blinds you. It always has. And if it were up to me, I'd leave you in the dark. But...you're right. You're the love of his life...and the only family he has left." Shannon stated. Despite the harshness of William's words, her tone was soft, accepting of the discomfiting truth. "So...I thought you deserved to know." She sounded.

"Know what?" The blonde hunk questioned impatiently.

"John's sick, William." Shannon's voice conveyed from the other side. "He's dying." She disclosed.

William's body went numb, a ringing sound detonating inside his ears like a bomb. His knees buckled, and he caved to the floor, his phone slowly sinking into the sand.

The truth had begun to unravel, but that momentary flicker of relief he had been afforded was now broken to pieces.

And there was nothing to cradle William's anguished wails but the sound of the waves slowly crashing against the shore.

(To be concluded...)