Wednesday, January 7, 2015

To Your Good Health

Vance noticed that Thaddeus seemed to avoid him even more than he did before Vance had come to terms with his girlfriend's feelings and invited him to stay. It hadn't been easy. His away time wasn't only spent collecting information, intimidating alliances, stealing priceless pieces, and killing the hard to kill. He'd reflected on Finch's reactions to the other man.

Between losing the love of his life or caring for her comfort and safety, Thaddeus McCannady was the least of two evils. An attractive one at that. On the street, Vance might've avoided him due to his looks - pretty ones like that were often rentboys. Rentboys who had harsh words to describe him that ripped him up inside.

'Scarface' had made Finch flare up in his defense, but it was by far the tamest thing he'd been called. In fact, it sort of felt like an endearment coming from the other man. After all, the actual Scarface had wound up the leader of the biggest drug cartel in Florida. Of course, Vance himself wasn't going to lose it all. He wasn't just playing in the states, but all over the world.

Except when he was playing master of the kitchen. He fixed himself and Finch breakfast, glad the morning sickness seemed less harsh as she drew closer to her second trimester.

"He does know he could stay for breakfast, right?" he said, sitting her plate in front of his pyjama clad lady.

"Something, something, busy day, something something, wasn't listening, probably feels uncomfortable," Finch yawned, blinking up at him. "Have you always been able to cook? This looks amazing."

"A bit here and there," Vance said. "Picking up more instead of eating out while I'm on the job. Hate to get caught while I'm popping down for some korma. Baby bird happy this morning?"

Finch gave him a bashful smile, wrinkling her nose. "Think so. I'm still tired, but I think everyone's doing okay." She reached over to touch his hand. "We both missed you, though."

"I missed you, too," Vance said, sitting across from her at the island. "I was worried about you. Both of you, which is why I let Thad back. I hope you're not sore with me."

She huffed out a breath, looking up at the ceiling. "I was cross with you, a little. And I was cross at my papa for letting him live here in the first place. I know you're all worried, but sometimes it makes me feel a bit-" Finch blushed, sucking in her lip. "A bit smothered. Like I can't look after myself."

"Of course you can look after yourself," Vance said. "But I know you.. get lonely." He took a bite of food. "And you're hardheaded."

"I am not hardheaded! If anything it's the two of you who are unreasonable. Just moving in because you feel like it," Finch replied with a sulky look. "It's okay. If I get lonely. I can handle it. I-I just- I thought I was just supposed to be, y'know, with you. Like, commitment and all that."

"You are with me," Vance said, reaching back for her hand. He tangled their fingers together. "You're marrying me. Not him. Having my kid, not his. So you've made a friend. A friend you like a bit more than friends. Books end in happily ever after, Finch, but real lives keep going."

"I know, I know. I still feel a bit like I'm cheating," Finch whispered, blushing. She rubbed her free hand over her stomach absentmindedly. "And it's the oddest time to pick someone up, y'know, all pregnant and whatnot."

"You look lovely pregnant," Vance laughed. "It's not cheating if we're honest, is it? I snogged him, too."

"Yeah, thanks for that. No, really, thank you. It was worth the ten minute lecture on how he's soooo 'not gay', although if you'd seen him with Bran you'd think otherwise," Finch giggled. She took a bite of her own meal, happy she was no longer as queasy during the day. "What's going to be done about his family? They threatened me. They'll threaten the baby."

"Honestly not sure," Vance admitted. "I'm still taking a lot of direction from your Mum. I know the stuff that needs to be done to make things run smooth, to fix the hiccups, but cutting out an entire faction? We'd have to be ready to move in on each and every one of their operations. Place people we trust in those holes."

"Long burn," Finch sighed, chewing thoughtfully. She shrugged. "I'm sure Mum will come up with something. I just, I keep remembering how that woman looked. How she threatened me- us- said the world was so much bigger than Moriarty. I was afraid."

"The world is bigger than one man, or one woman, she was right. It's why we don't work alone. Live alone. Or even.. sleep alone?" Vance offered with a smirk.

Finch's smile turning into a cautious smile that was more than a little murderous. "And who are you sleeping with when you're off travelling?"

"Thomas Knight and Dederick House, at the moment. Thomas snores something awful," Vance replied. "Wretched. Why, my little bird, were you expecting something else?"

"Well, if you're pushing me at someone else, maybe there's someone you'd like to tell me about," Finch said primly, pushing her food around her plate, suddenly not interested in eating.

"Yeah, sure," Vance said, challenge in his eye. "She's got red hair, a swollen belly that I put there, and she's suspicious that I'm too welcoming to an enemy lout. If she weren't accidentally knocked up by our delicious fucking, I'd have her at my side in the field because evidently she is more capable than she let on, but as it is, I deal with two body guards, both of whom are older men who would cut my cock off if I made a pass at them... if I were interested. As it stands, I've rather made a commitment, no?"

Finch glared at him, embarrassed yet pleased by his little speech. She blushed as red as her mother's hair. "Why would you want me to be with someone else if you didn't also want that? I don't understand."

"Because you're happier, Finch," Vance sighed, smiling softly at her. "Look at you. You love fussing with him, and coming back to me. You love having someone to hold you when I can't. You smile and you have found passions you never had before. Tattooing and art and the people you've met through it. Maybe a year ago, I might've been content to follow you into that line of work, but darling, I would've frightened your customers, not drawn them in to look at a pretty face."

"I think you do have a pretty face," Finch murmured, reaching out to cup his cheek. "Your scar would've helped you with business. You'd get all the bad arse men in."

"Do you want more bad arse men in?" Vance asked teasingly as he held his hand over hers. "I can kick Thad back out again tonight. It does bring me pleasure to watch him flounder."

"I think it might be mean to do that. It's supposed to get cold, and I can't afford the heating in the shop," Finch said, chewing her lip. "And- And he's already afraid, I think, that he doesn't live here. Can't kick him out so soon after all that stuff."

Vance turned to kiss her palm. "Soft-heart," he murmured. "Keep your pet. He doesn't scare me, Finch. I know you love me. I can only hope you can trust in yourself enough that I feel the same, and that if there is anyone else for me - let it be Thaddeus."

"You- You want Thaddeus, too?" Finch squeaked, blinking at him in surprise.

"Problem?" Vance asked, brow raised. "I know where my heart lies, but he isn't repulsive."

"No, I just, y'know, thought you didn't um, do that sort of thing," Finch said, blushing her way through the sentence.

"What sort? Men?" Vance asked, genuinely curious about her thoughts about him.

"Um, yes. Men," Finch said, looking away.

Vance laughed. "Before you took me in, I'd been with a handful of people. Never really thought about how many, never counted. Boys, girls, in between. It was people I felt comfortable with, or ones I thought would keep me safe. There wasn't love out there, not really. When winter got cold, if I was having it off with a bloke and he had a place? It wasn't much to curl up behind him and keep warm through the night," he snorted. "I'm not asking for Thad's arse or anything. He's an attractive bloke, once you get past his pitiful origins. It's more than he's told you, love. Being a pacifist is only an excuse. He's just as dangerous as you or I."

"I'm not dangerous," Finch sulked, propping her chin up on her hand. "What sort of dark origins? I want to know."

"Pitiful, not dark," Vance corrected. "His father was the next in line for taking over the McCannady's territory, and his mother was the only granddaughter of the Black Lotus collective. The old bitch slaughtered his mother after he was born - day of, actually, and in retaliation, his father was eventually found and caught out by an assassin. His parents had planned to run away together, leave the life, but instead Thad was raised by his grandparents. I rather assume he hates them as much as we do."

Finch felt all the blood steal away from her face, feeling instantly sorry for the miscreant in her shop. "Oh. Oh, that's wretched." She gulped. Even though she still thought Vance's story was worse, although that might've just been because she loved him, Thad's story touched her. "I can't imagine that. I mean, I didn't have grandparents, so I guess I wouldn't know, but that's awful."

"Being the dandy flirt is safer, easier, and a far more fantasy life than the pressure of becoming the leader of two rival gangs," Vance said. "I can respect his choice to run from it. Just as I ran head long into it."

"You know, if you're keen on exploring this 'into men' thing, you could've just always adopted Bran rather than bring in a rival gang," Finch suggested sweetly. "The way you're doing it seems so much more complicated and Bran is actually gay-"

And is actually in love with you. "And Thad isn't," Vance reminded her, taking a drink of his orange juice. "Which I believe is more up your alley. Unless you want me to shag your ruddy cousin out of Spence's life?"

"Nah, that would be mean to Spencer. And Bran doesn't like you very much, but he doesn't like anyone much lately," Finch sighed, poking her eggs. "I want ice cream."

"He loves your brother," Vance said, going to the freezer. "Eat at least half that. If you're that worried about it all, don't sleep with Thad. I'm not shagging anyone else. Just you. Promise, cross my heart, and hope to die." He thunked a pint of ice cream down beside Finch's elbow.

Finch speared her eggs, looking up at him with big sad eyes. "It's not my fault the baby wanted-"

"There's plenty of ice cream," Vance assured her, hugging her from behind. He stroked his large hand over her bump. "And a chef on speed dial you know you can call any time and he'll come running. Tell my baby bird to behave, her mummy needs her vitamins."

"I wouldn't put it past you to grind them up and put them in the ice cream," Finch said smartly, leaning her head back on his chest. She angled her face up for a kiss, waiting for him to bend down. "I'll make sure she stays healthy."

Vance blinked. "She?" he asked, tilting his head. "Did we just-?"

"Oh! Um, whoops. Sorry, at my last scan they, I mean, I meant to surprise you," Finch whined.

Vance pressed their lips together, inhaling sharply as he hummed in delight. "A baby girl," he sighed, pecking kisses against her lips.

"Yeah, something cute and small for you to spoil to death," Finch teased, feeling warm and comforted. Like a contented mama cat. "We'll have to start setting up the nursery soon. And clothes!" For both her and the child.

"Yes, yes, yes," Vance said. "But first-" He pulled out his mobile. "I'm calling out, and we're going to spend all day on the sofa."

"Hmm, I should like that," Finch said, taking her ice cream and leaving the eggs to head for the large couch in the living room. "Nice relaxing day in. Does that mean you're leaving again soon? You only call out if you're leaving soon."

"Not for another week, at least," Vance promised. "I don't like leaving, love. I just don't have a second that can work like your Uncle Jack."

"I know," Finch replied, settling among her pillows with her treat. "I'm allowed to be sad. Not today, of course, but I'm allowed to understand and still be sad."

Vance curled up beside her flicking on an old movie. "Today, we're happy," he said. "We're having a daughter."

***

Brandon had acquiesced to the damn kid's demands that he start seeing someone else for treatment after he spent one evening tossing up a very expensive dinner he'd prepared that he should've been fine eating. Of course, he'd never let Spencer know it. Gorgeous moron would be too happy to gloat and fuss over him, and the baby needed more fussing than Brandon did. So he'd gone to a private doctor, he'd had blood drawn and a new medical history all taken up, and he'd even given them his work address and cell phone number so as not to alert the genius that he'd actually listened for once.

"Yeah," Brandon said into the phone, lips numb. He pulled out a chair and sat down. The doctor kept speaking, but his ears were buzzing. "And you're sure? I mean, we already did this once- yeah, yeah, I understand. Alrigh'. Yeah, thanks, thanks a lot! No, no, just kind of in shock, I think. Yeah, I'll be fine." A smile cracked his marble features. "I'll be bloody brilliant, thanks!" 

He closed the phone. The cafe outside was locked up and deserted as far as he knew, shift already ended for the day. He was alone.

And he was well. 

More than well, he was healthy. Perfect. Nothing wrong with him, no disease. No HIV, no early death- nothing. Just... healthy. 

[where are you? Li keeps shouting for you - SH]

Brandon shook his head, fingers trembling as he typed back, [Fine. Work. Home soon. -B]

Spencer rang out anyway. He had a fussy toddler on his hands, and one who would not eat food not made by 'Bananadon'.

Brandon ignored the call, already dialing his mother. He tapped his fingers nervously on the table.

"Love?" Freya said, voice sleepy. She'd been dozing on the sofa by the fire.

"Mum, I've got news," Brandon managed, his voice croaking. He felt warm, too warm. Too excited. Too afraid to believe.

"More news?" Freya said, sitting up from her comfy blanket. The cottage was strangely quiet. "What is it, sweetheart?"

"I'm not sick, Mum," Brandon croaked, and a giggle slipped out. "I'm not- I don't have- I'm not sick. They checked. Twice."

"What?" Freya said, breath catching. She covered her mouth. "Baby, are you certain?"

"I went to a private practitioner. He said he's checked, Mum. He's sure, he says," Brandon replied breathlessly. "Everything, it's too much. I feel like I'm going to fly."

"Oh, sweetie, darling," Freya said, tears welling up. "You were on meds for ages. How did they get it wrong?"

"He said sometimes tests come up false. He- He said he's sure," Brandon said, putting his head down on the table before the rushing blood in his head made him fall over. "I can stop the meds, stop feeling like shit all the time. He said it's fine."

"Brandon, that's wonderful," Freya breathed. She was overcome with relief, up until mother-mode kicked in. "Don't you dare think this is the chance to go back to bringing home every bloody thing that winks your way!"

"Mummerz, Mumzie, Mumzilla, could you please save the lecture for tomorrow? I'm not going to go bloody blowin' everything that I've worked for- ha ha, blowin'. I didn't even think about it before I said it," Brandon snickered. "I've got to go. I should go home, he said the baby won't eat."

"Yes, sweetheart," Freya sighed, grateful her son's thoughts went to the stray kid. "Go home, feed him up."

"I will. I love you, Mum. Tell Mare-mare for me so she won't worry anymore," Bran said, but he made no move to stand.

"Yes, yes, I'll tell everyone. Mary and your dad, too," Freya replied, getting out from under her warm blanket. "Go tell your own little family, too. I love you, darling. Please, please be careful, my love."

"I'm always careful, love you, Mum!" Bran said, ending the call before she could say anything else. Healthy. What did that even mean anymore?

Freya went and crawled in bed with Mary, noting the absence of Sebastian. "Where's the hubby?" she asked.

"Oh, who knows anymore. I think he went somewhere with Jack," Mary hummed, turning to hug Freya tight. "I'm frightfully ignored anymore."

"Well, you're now third to know that Brandon is.. is," Freya hiccuped. "Clear. Healthy. He's.. Mare, they got it wrong."

"My darling, that's fabulous news!" Mary breathed, trying to squeeze Freya even closer. "I'm so pleased to hear it. He's certain this time?"

"Says so anyway," Freya said. "My baby is healthy, Mare. False results, the practitioner said. Can you get Jack to see if it's really true? I'm frightened for him."

"I'll have him start on it straightaway." Mary promised. She slid her hands down to cup Freya's small bum. "I'm certainly pleased to believe Spencer is a little bit more safe now. Not to be selfish, but I was concerned."

Freya wriggled, happy to have Mary-the-lover with her. "No, love, you're right. I never would've forbid them from it, but with little Finch taking after you, it would've broken my heart for poor Spence. Especially with the little baby he's taken on. Are you certain Spence can handle that?"

"Not at all, but he seems convinced. I'm rather sure he can't handle it, but he'll learn. I just hope he doesn't hurt the poor girl too much. You know how the Holmeses are, wretchedly mean," Mary bit gently at Freya's neck. Freya whimpered at the bite.

"You spawned the brat," she said, rocking against Mary. She tugged at Mary's hair, encouraging. "Mmph, is this a good idea? Leaving them alone to grow up?"

"Of course it is. When am I ever wrong?" Mary teased, scooting down to suck at the pale white skin just over Freya's left breast (once she'd rucked her shirt up, of course).

"Aah!" Freya gasped with a blissful smile on her face. "Never, love. Ah, Mary!" She scooted Mary to where she wanted her, just there. "Fffuck. Yes." Her mind was gone under the mouth of her lover. Seb would just have to discover two sated women curled around one another.

***

Spencer had Liam on his knee. They'd never bothered getting a high chair, just a booster seat since he was getting too old for it anyway. Spencer had eggs in his hair, and noodles on his three hundred pound shirt. He was trying to convince Liam to try a bite of banana. 

"Nuh!" Liam said, letting the bite of food fall out of his mouth onto Spencer's open palm.

"You've got to eat something," Spencer said.

"NUH!" Liam repeated, trying to wriggle out of the young man's lap.

Brandon half ran up the stairs at the sound of the noise. "Oi, oi, what's goin' on in here?"

Spencer's face melted in relief.

"I've tried everything and I'm wearing everything," Spencer whined. "Bran, help?"

"BANANADON!" Liam roared, trying to practically fly out of Spencer's arms.

"He hasn't had a nap or slowed down all day long," Spencer said, looking like he was ready to pull out his hair.

"Did he eat? He's always sleepy after you feed him," Brandon said, catching Liam up. "You've been naughty! You're to be nice to Spencer."

"He's said everything is gross, even things you fixed," Spencer sighed, picking the egg out of his hair. "Impossible little bugger."

Liam just giggled.

"I think he was just cross you were late," Spencer said, dropping the half chewed banana onto a plate. "You're nearly always home for dinner. What kept you?"

"Um, worked late," Brandon said, reaching in the cupboard for a biscuit. He leaned his forehead against Liam's. "You eat this, and sit nicely on his lap, and I'll make supper."

Liam instantly popped the biscuit into his mouth, drooling on it slightly. "Bananmon," he mumbled around the biscuit.

"Bran, you've got to be tired, you don't have to cook," Spencer said.

"We're feasting today!" Brandon said giddily, passing the child back to Spencer. "There's a good lad, sit tight. Homemade Chinese, I think I have all the ingredients."

"Feast?" Spencer said. "What's the occasion? Some big client roll in?"

"Um, tell you later," Brandon avoided, pulling out the food he needed. "How was today?"

"Good, tiring," Spencer said, holding Liam back in his lap. "Abs is down talking to Finch tonight, I think. I told her to get out and have a break for awhile. We all love the lad, but I was out this morning, so I figured we'd swap off. I'm back in touch with Allen though, with the Met, you remember?"

"Isn't he the bloke who failed you?" Brandon asked, chopping veg.

"Yeah," Spencer said. "But he's in domestics now, having me look at a few cases. Weirder ones, you know? Seems the new recruits aren't quite as brilliant on the uptake as he expected."

Brandon snorted, waggling his eyebrows at the boy. "No one is as smart as Spencer, right, Liam?"

"Yea!" Liam agreed, not entirely following, but happy to have more people home.

"God, this kid," Spencer said, kissing his dark hair. "I love him to death, but he's exhausting. Where does all the energy come from?" He sniffed the air. "That smells good. Mm, garlic?"

"Of course. Makes the lo mein better," Brandon replied. He bent to kiss Liam's soft hair, too, before returning to work. "Besides, it's good for you."

[Spencer. Has he told you? - MM]

[told me what? - sh]

"Bran?" Spencer said, baby in one arm, phone in the other hand.

"Yeah?" Brandon replied, having not seen Spencer look at his text.

"Something you wanna tell me?" Spencer asked, voice going low and suspicious.

"No? What are you talking about?" Brandon asked, turning to look at Spencer with concern.

[Behave - MM]

Spencer frowned as he looked between his phone and his lover. "Why is my mum telling me to behave?" he asked. "And what aren't you telling me?"

"Oh, bollocks, of course my mother told your mother," Brandon swore, thankful some of the awkward pressure was taken off of him. "It's um, I just wanted time. It's new."

"Yes, our mums are a couple of gossiping bored hens, now spill," Spencer said.

"Spill!" Liam echoed, knocking over an empty sippy cup.

"I'm clean," Brandon said, without looking at Spencer. He started to stir some vegetables in a wok.

"What?" Spencer asked, picking up the cup.

"Healthy. You know. Free," Brandon murmured, giving his long hair a shake. "Not dying."

Spencer picked Liam up, strapping him back into the booster seat and scooted him up to the table. He placed a hand on Brandon's back. "Bran? Look at me."

"Cookin'. Don't want your dinner to burn," Brandon said in a choked tone.

"Let it burn," Spencer said. "Bran, you weren't dirty."

"No, no, I know, but it's a phrase. False test results the first time," Brandon said, risking a glance back. He gave him a wobbly smile. "Not sick."

"I knew it," Spencer said. "All those meds. They were just making you sick. Making you sick when you weren't. You went to the doctor I picked out?"

"Um, yes, I had, actually," Brandon hummed, swirling food around the hot pan. "He tested, and then retested, and I'm able to cease all medications as I am not sick. Not even a cold."

"Bran, Brandon," Spencer said, catching up his cousin's hands, turning him away from the food. "Look at me!"

Brandon's chiseled face turned to look at Spencer, eyes glassy like he was on the verge of tears. "Spencer-"

Spencer leaned up on his toes, kissing Brandon on the mouth. "Bran," he breathed. "You aren't dying." His bottom lip wibbled a bit as he ran his fingers through Brandon's locks.

"Dock-er?" Liam asked.

"Not anymore," Spencer told the boy. "All good."

"Good, good, good," Liam sang.

"I'm not dying," Brandon agreed, laughing. "I'm not dying." He couldn't say it enough. His skilled hands gave the noodles another stir. "Almost ready, then. Liam, are you hungry? What has he been feeding you?"

"Banana," Liam said with a huge scowl.

"What am I meant to feed him?!" Spencer said with faux-exasperation. He winked at the kid. He couldn't stop smiling though as he picked up the sippy cup to refill with fresh water.

"There is baby food, clearly labeled- for God's sake, there are puffy snacks just there in that tube. Can you read?" Bran asked, shaking his head.

"Yes, I'm wearing part of that baby food. This shirt cost three hundred pounds at Westwood," Spencer scowled. The smell was heavenly and he was starving. "Babies are not style helpful."

Liam gave Brandon a look that said 'fuck-him-i'm-fabulous-bitch'.

"Wear a smock?" Bran suggested, plating the noodles, a small portion cut up small and handed to the child to play with. He leaned close to Liam's ear. "For every one you get in his hair, I'll give you a biscuit."

Liam giggled, stuffing noodles into his mouth.

"Don't encourage him!" Spencer hissed. "Sit, sit, come here."

Brandon put a plate down for both of the adult males and did as Spencer asked him, sitting next to him. He was too giddy to eat but he gave Spencer a stern look. "Eat your dinner."

"Eat yours," Spencer said, breathless. He picked up his fork, but kept looking between Liam and Brandon. He took a bite, savoring the noodles. "The things I'm thinking right now-" he murmured, slipping his hand over Brandon's knee underneath the table.

"Yeah? What sort of things?" Brandon asked with a cheeky eyebrow raised. He slurped up his noodles with a loud noise, puckering his sculpted mouth.

"Things my mother was most likely warning me against," Spencer said, eyes alight. He licked his lips, taking another slow bite as he tucked his hand closer up Brandon's thigh. "Mind your words, Bran. He's smarter than he lets on."

Liam was watching them intently as he grabbed tiny fistfuls of noodles, bringing them to his mouth.

"You're the one doing things he might see!" Brandon chuckled. His eyes leveled on Spencer, bright. "Besides, shouldn't we wait? Triple test, maybe? I don't want to risk another false answer."

"Another doctor? Third times the charm?" Spencer asked, practically panting for it. He bit his lip. "Do you have any idea how much I dream about-"

"Bandon," Liam said. "Bandon ish happy." He flung a bit of noodles Spencer's way.

"Good boy! Right on top," Brandon reached up to pick a noodle out of Spencer's hair. "One biscuit earned." He leaned over to tickle the child. "Brandon is beyond happy, little man. Ecstatic. Excited. Alive. Giddy?"

Spencer rolled his eyes. "Careful, Bran. They only keep about four hundred or so words at that age," he cautioned. "I think he's probably double that. Let him eat so he'll settle."

"Aw, Spencer doesn't like it when you're a terror," Brandon sulked, patting Liam's head. "He's just worried I like you best."

Liam gave him a toothy smile.

"He certainly likes you best," Spencer snorted. "Probably because he thinks you're a girl. Oh, God! The way your mum was with him. I thought she and my mum were going to tuck him under a blanket and say 'what baby?'."

Bran giggled, taking another bite of food. "They wish they lived closer so they could manage our lives better. I had to talk them out of moving back last time I saw them."

"We can manage our lives," Spencer said. "Alright, little man, ready for a bath?"

Liam scowled a bit, but his noodles and veg had quickly disappeared into his mouth leaving behind an empty bowl.

"Give him love, Bran, so I can go put him down. Abs finally got that crib-cot thing set up. It's a bit of a squeeze right now, but I figure we can pass it onto Finch afterwards."

Brandon lifted the child out of his booster seat. "I am giving him love, I always give him love. Bath time for the little one. We'll play with that duckie I bought you."

Liam squealed in delight, grabbing Brandon happily. He snuggled right up to Brandon's neck, arms wrapping around his tall caregiver. Spencer went to pick out pyjamas and make up the cot. The room felt so strange. He'd had to move out so many things into hall closets and into the den. Dangerous items got put up on high shelves, and kink gear - he'd sold off some of it, knowing it would never be used. The rest was packed away or still in Brandon's possession along with the leather collar and riding crop.

Spencer's heart twinged at the loss of that connection. The darkness.

The thoughts were pushed away as a clean toddler was brought into the room with a dopey grin and sleepy eyes. "Here, I got him fireman jim-jams," Spencer said.

"Fire man jim-jams!" Brandon said to Liam with a high, excited voice. "Isn't that nice? Say thank you, Spencer."

"Fank you, Pen," Liam replied as he was quickly dressed.

"You're welcome, little man," Spencer said, picking him up to kiss his little clean cheeks until he giggled. "Bed time," he said. "Say goodnight."

"Mnphit," Liam muttered.

"Tired little git."

"Night-night," Brandon said, putting the child down in the bed, patting his head before deciding to kiss the little bugger anyway. He turned and went for the living room, feeling an electric sort of spark rolling off of Spencer.

Spencer gently left the door cracked.

"Have I still got noodle in my hair?" he asked, unbuttoning his dirty shirt.

"No, I think you've got it all," Brandon said with a grin, standing in the middle of the sitting room, looking as though he didn't know where to go. He was too happy to sit down, to excited to go upstairs.

Spencer dropped his shirt on the floor and pounced. He was on Brandon, pushing him back towards the sofa, hands roaming and lips questing over soft tender skin of Brandon's neck as he practically straddled him, teeth nipping harder than usual. Brandon groaned, fighting back with bites of his own, sucking hard on Spencer's throat to leave a mark.

"Spencer-"

"Shh," Spencer hissed into Brandon's ear. "Baby in the next room. Deliciously illicit, isn't it?" he breathed as he rucked up Brandon's shirt. His mouth went to Brandon's sucking a lip into his mouth before biting the plush bit of skin.

"Ah-" Brandon tried to moan quietly but it wasn't working. He was already sweating, having deprived himself so much during his supposed illness. He kissed Spencer so hard their teeth practically gnashed together. Spencer tasted blood and bit harder, suckling at Brandon's flesh as he nearly ripped open Brandon's trousers.

"I tried to be even with you both," Spencer panted softly. "But she's taken up so much.. time. Gonna have you.."

"Protection," Brandon hissed back, thrusting up at even the hint of being touched. "Can't risk it-"

"You said checked," Spencer argued. "Clean. Want to taste you." He licked at Brandon's mouth. "Don't take it from me."

"Not yet, I can't risk you-" Bran protested, bringing a large thin hand up to touch Spencer's face. "I can't risk you."

"Brandon," Spencer whined, reaching for Bran's cock. His smaller hand wrapped around hot, turgid flesh. "Fine, where's something?"

"Your room? The desk drawer? I don't even know anymore," Brandon panted, eyes rolling back in his head. "Oh, guh-fuck-go-Spencer!"

Spencer growled. "Don't fuckin' move."

He rushed to the bathroom. There was some under the sink, he knew. Sex with Abby had been hurried or secretive now with Liam in the house. He made a snap decision, grabbing a small bottle of lube. Fumbling with his own wool trousers, he had his fingers inside himself, twisting and panting. He caught the wild look in his eyes in the mirror, before dashing back out, completely nude except for his socks. He had a condom packet between his teeth and a bottle in his hand.

"Spence?" Brandon sat up, reaching for him with a bewildered expression on his face. "What are you-"

"I said don't move. Breaking the rules," Spencer said, tossing the supplies beside him on the sofa. He had his hands back down in Brandon's pants, pulling everything down his hips. His slim cock was standing high and proud. He poured liquid silk out of the bottle and slicked Brandon well. "Prep me, fast."

Brandon started to shake his head. "You don't know what you're asking-"

Spencer shot forward to bite Brandon's neck. "Hell you do," he snarled. "Fingers up my arse now, and don't you dare make it hurt, or I'll hurt you twice as badly."

Eyes wide, slipping down into a submissive state, he took the lube from Spencer to slick his own fingers. He teased over Spencer's puckered hole before pushing in. "Okay?"

Spencer pushed back, arching. He nodded, sweat beading down him despite the cold. "More," he demanded. "I'm not some ickle sub."

"It'll hurt," Brandon replied but he pushed in a second finger roughly. He was ready to burst as it was. "Fuck. Fuck, Spencer."

Spencer bit his lips, rocking back and forth on slick fingers before forcing Brandon out. "As if you're the first thing up there," he said, ripping open the condom and slipping it down on Brandon's cock. "This is mine," he growled, twisting himself to press down - hard - on his lover. It was a bit more shocking than the toy, very much more real than his fantasies, but he grabbed Brandon's wrists and pressed them against the back of the sofa as he hissed around the fullness. Brandon cried out, mouth hanging open. He whimpered as his cock sunk into hot, wet flesh, thrusting forward without even thinking.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Bran moaned. Spencer shoved the heel of his hand into Brandon's open mouth.

"I said be quiet," he repeated. "Don't wake the kid." He flexed around Brandon, eyes fluttering. "You're bigger than the toy."

"Mmph," Brandon sucked on Spencer's hand with a choking groan. He rocked up again, pushing deeper into Spencer. Deeper. He bit down on the flesh under Spencer's thumb. Spencer tried not to shout- failing as he slammed up and down, grinding himself on Brandon.

Spencer panted, fussed and struggled until Brandon's cock was rolling over his prostate again and again. It was almost painful as he let go of Brandon's other wrist to wank himself.

"More!" he demanded, bouncing harder. He was so close.

Bran's slim but strong hips pistoned in and out of Spencer, no rhythm, just seeking release. He bit down on Spencer's hand again, tongue laving over the sweet sore spot. Spencer cried out, hand barely on his prick as he spilled all over Brandon's stomach. He still rode Brandon, riding the aftershocks, forcing his hand harder against sharp teeth, feeling them prick harder and harder against his flesh.

Brandon came with a sob and a hard bite, tears gathering at the edges of his eyes. He thrust until his soft cock could push no more. "Sp-Spencer-"

Spencer grasped Brandon's hair, snogging him deeply, feeling the soft cock fall from him, his body gaping with its loss. "One more doctor," Spencer said. "One more, and your cock and your come and your blood, it's all mine. Do you understand?"

"Yeah," Bran sighed dreamily, heart pumping in his chest. "Just yours, Spencer."

Spencer got up, noticed his hand was bleeding. "Hmm," he smirked. "Clean it up."

"Get off me and I'll get a flannel," Brandon said, still panting.

Spencer nearly stumbled, but flopped over to the side. He winced as his bum hit the sofa. He pulled the blanket from the back of the couch over himself. Brandon took a moment in the bathroom to clean himself off, and then he came back with the first aid kit. He took Spencer's hand gently in his own and started cleaning it with an antibiotic spray.

"You'll tell me if it gets infected," Bran said.

"Will not," Spencer griped. "Sfine. Don't lecture me. My arse hurts."

Brandon bandaged his hand all the same and then leaned forward to kiss Spencer. "Have a shower. You reek of sex, and you can't sleep in that room smelling like that."

Spencer reached for Brandon to bring him back. "Can't sleep in that room forever," he murmured, nearly high off the orgasmic chemistry. He petted Brandon's hair, leaning up to kiss him again. "Love you, peacock. Love you and your gorgeous cock and your brilliant cooking. I don't want to wash your smell off me."

Bran snickered, half-purring at being pet like a cat. "You can't sleep in that room forever, but with his mum gone you'll need to stay within earshot. I love you, too, Spencer."

"Wear your hair braided tomorrow so everyone can see where I've marked you up," Spencer sighed. He got up, stretching languidly. He nuzzled Brandon's face, affectionate. "Miss this. A bit dirty, a bit rough. Makes me feel alive. I'll go have my wash." He nudged against Brandon's face once more, stealing another kiss as he draped the blanket artfully over his disheveled body.

"Hey," Brandon caught Spencer's wrist, stopping him. "It doesn't have to stop being dirty. Just because you've got-" Brandon looked towards the bedroom door. "It doesn't have to stop. Your mum is still plenty kinky with all of us underfoot."

Spencer looked uncertain. He nodded slowly. He raised his bitten hand. "Wear your collar for me, sometimes?" he asked, pleading in his eyes.

"Yeah, of course," Brandon said, giving him a heartbreakingly sweet smile. "Don't worry." He chuckled, because, today, his words were true. "Everything is going to be fine."

Spencer turned back for one more kiss. It was glorious, sweet, sore. Despite his complaints, he loved the ache inside him. "Yeah, yeah, it might just be," Spencer said. "I should check he's asleep and not scarred for life." He laughed, a bit shy now.

"Go on. I'm turning in. Long day, good sex. I'm fuckin' knackered." Brandon's lip pulled to the side, wishing he could sleep with Spencer near the baby, like a family. But him and Abby weren't friends. And he doubted she'd take it well if she came home and had no where to sleep. "Might watch telly first."

"Alright," Spencer said. He headed to the lav, poking his head in through the bedroom side door and saw Liam asleep with his fingers in his mouth. He smiled at the boy and went for a shower. He had to keep his hand out of the water, but everything stung beautifully.

He dressed in the softest flannel pyjamas he had, skipping a shirt. He crawled into his bed, already drawn towards sleep. He nearly picked Liam up, missing someone to cuddle with, but he was afraid to wake the boy. Spencer finally began to doze. Everything was sensitive. Brandon was healthy. He was healthy, and Spencer's and the blond was filling Spencer's half-dreams with pleasure.

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