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It was a dark and stormy night, with fierce enough wind whipping rain through the streets that Lyney almost felt like the sea was attempting to overtake the land. He had to clutch his hat to his chest to keep it from flying away and struggle against the gusts to finally reach his door.
“I’m home!” Lyney called into the quiet. No lights were on, but that wasn’t surprising; power had been knocked out all across town. He wrung water from his hair and coat in the entryway so that he was only dripping instead of drenched, then proceeded forward in the dimness to where he knew they kept candles.
The storm raging outside was the only noise. Lyney tried, very hard, to keep himself from panicking. Freminet had been visiting other friends, and had likely hunkered down with them. He was fine. But Lynette had started home before Lyney himself, so she should be here. There should have been a response to his voice.
Flickering candlelight did not calm Lyney’s heart.
Neither did making his way into the bedroom and finding a piece of paper elegantly folded upon the sheets. A pit formed in Lyney’s stomach as he slowly reached forward to pick up the Fortress of Meropide’s heavy-weight stationary.
I took her, it read in a familiar strong hand. Come for her if you’d like.
Fire flashed from the candle and out Lyney’s fingers, burning the note to ashes. “Fuck you,” Lyney said into the ensuing darkness. He turned back towards the door; there was no time to waste. “You had to choose a night like this,” he muttered as he wrapped his already-sodden raincoat around his shoulders once more.
The darkness outside seemed to laugh as Lyney entered the storm once more.
Lyney swam through the calm depths towards the metal monolith which housed the man who had stolen his sister. The ocean seemed too peaceful for the restless rage and panic which consumed him, but it was certainly easier to traverse right now than the stormy surface. Though Lyney was nowhere near as skilled at diving as Freminet, he was perfectly competent.
The Fortress of Meropide was not hard to enter if one knew where it was and had a Vision. Getting out had always been more of a problem, but it was one Lyney refused to consider when he had a more pressing issue on his mind.
At least the guard who caught him in the spotlight and dragged him inside had the courtesy to dump him in front of Wriothesley’s office. Lyney glared at the door, knocked on it sharply, and ignored the whispers behind him. They couldn’t do anything to him in front of the Duke’s lair.
Lyney strode inside as soon as the door clicked open, slammed it in the face of his ‘escort’, and snarled, “Where is she?”
Wriothesley sipped his tea calmly, as if Lyney were here for a social visit. “Good evening,” the Duke said. He smiled, an expression which didn’t reach his eyes. “Care for some tea?”
“I would care for my sister more.” Lyney crossed his arms and let himself steam. Heat from his Pyro Vision would clear the clinging chill from his clothes and afford him a modicum of decency. “Where is she, you ass?”
Wriothesley clicked his tongue. “Be polite, Lyney. The world runs more smoothly when we’re properly respectful of one another.”
“Oh, my apologies.” Lyney stalked across the tile floor towards Wriothesley’s tea table. “Please inform me of my sister’s location, Duke Dipshit.”
Wriothesley’s storm-gray eyes sparked with anger. A muscle in his jaw jumped as he clenched it. Finally, in one smooth motion, the Duke stood. He had a habit of seeming smaller than he was, but right now Wriothesley filled the room with the force of his presence. He looked down at Lyney and said, very quietly, “You have one more chance.”
Lyney stepped forward, fully in Wriothesley’s space now, and grabbed him by his stupid loose tie. “Tell me where Lynette is,” he hissed, “before I burn you where you stand.”
“I gave you a chance,” Wriothesley said. He moved, quicker than Lyney could follow, and a needle sank into Lyney’s shoulder. “You’ll see her soon,” he promised as Lyney sank into darkness. “Just wait a little longer.”
Lyney woke up in a soft bed, surrounded by warm blankets, and for a moment thought that the evening’s events had been a nightmare.
Then he heard the eternal rumble of the Fortress of Meropide’s pumps and it all came back to him in a rush. Lyney jerked upright and opened his eyes, frantically looking around to see where he was.
A small room, plainly decorated. Not prisoner quarters, the infirmary, or any of the Duke’s rooms he’d seen before. Lyney grimaced and stood up. Loose pajamas swirled around his skin, and Lyney froze. These silken garments weren’t his, and he couldn’t see any sign of his usual clothes. As Lyney looked down, his suspicions were confirmed: the fabric was so thin it was almost see-through, and he wasn’t wearing anything beneath the sheer weave.
“Ah,” Lyney said to the empty walls. “Fuck.”
Lynette hadn’t been the goal. Lynette had simply been the bait.
A door clicked open opposite him.
Lacking any other choice, Lyney stepped through. A small hallway, almost an airlock, led to another door. Lyney turned the handle, heart hammering in his chest, and slowly pushed it open.
This room was more luxurious. Heavy drapes on the walls. A richly-colored rug Lyney knew would be soft on his bare feet. Lamps casting gentle amber light upon Wriothesley’s skin as he idly slid his hand along Lynette’s thigh. Lyney unsuccessfully tried to swallow a yelp, and Wriothesley’s eyes lifted from the book he’d been reading to Lyney’s face. “I’m glad you’re awake,” Wriothesley said, voice rolling across Lyney’s ears like bourbon. He patted Lynette’s hip. “We’ve been waiting for you.”
Lynette didn’t move at all. Her chest moved slowly and easily beneath her own sheer nightdress, brown nipples puckered where they slid against lace with wide enough holes to barely be considered a covering. Lyney couldn’t drag his gaze away from her sleeping form. She was familiar, vulnerable, and curled up next to Wriothesley like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Wriothesley must have followed his attention. “Ah, yes.” A sigh, too staged to be heartfelt. “I didn’t know how long you’d be. She’s perfectly well; I simply gave her a larger dose of the same knock-out drug you were injected with. She will suffer no side effects so long as you comply.”
“Comply with what?” The fear which had washed out of Lyney’s gut upon seeing his sister safe and sound rushed back with a vengeance that had him feeling nauseous.
“Nothing difficult.” Wriothesley gently pressed Lynette’s hip to the side until she fell onto her back, arms draped across her stomach and legs spread. The short nightdress barely hid the join of her hips, and the shadow of her pubic hair was delicately hinted at through the light gauze. The movement had pulled the chest askew as well, baring the curve of one Lynette’s small breasts, and Wriothesley cupped it briefly in his own gloved fingers, engulfing it.
Lyney wanted to kill him. “Hands off,” he barked, fire glinting in his eyes as he readied himself for a fight.
Wriothesley smiled at him and slipped off the bed. He was still fully dressed in leather, chains jingling as he moved. Bastard. “As I said,” he murmured, “nothing difficult. I want to watch you fuck your sister.”
The heat in Lyney’s core turned, horrifyingly abruptly, from rage to a different kind of arousal.
They’d shared a bed for most of their lives. They’d shared everything, really; sex was just another form of connection between them. But it was private; it wasn’t something they shared with anyone else. Even Freminet, when he joined their bed, had accepted that there were some things he couldn’t be part of or understand. And this—
Lyney turned away from Wriothesley and walked over to Lynette instead. Carefully, he ran his hands along her body, telling himself he was simply checking for injuries. She was so soft beneath his fingers, and this close he could smell her own arousal; Wriothesley had been teasing her for some time. Even unconscious like this, she pushed into Lyney’s touch when he skimmed across her chest, and her mouth turned into his palm when he caressed her cheek.
Behind him, Wriothesley said, “Good boy.”
The words were a shock to his system. Lyney stepped back and turned to glare at Wriothesley, cheeks burning with the awareness that Wriothesley would be able to see the way his cock was hardening under his sheer trousers.
Somehow, he hadn’t expected that Wriothesley would be lounging in a chair with a hand on his own crotch. “Do you need a hand preparing yourself, Lyney?” Wriothesley asked. He smiled, the tip of his tongue wetting his lips. “I’d be happy to help.”
“I don’t need your help.” Lyney fought the urge to cover himself. “Especially if this”—he gestured at Lynette—“is your idea of helping.”
“She’s beautifully prepared for you,” Wriothesley said, with a tone that made it sound like he was agreeing with what Lyney had said. “She moans your name very sweetly, Lyney.”
Lyney was in Wriothesley’s face again before he could think, breathing hard, hands fisted in Wriothesley’s shirt. “You don’t deserve to hear that,” he said through gritted teeth. “That’s for me.”
“And here you are.” Wriothesley lifted his hand from his crotch and slowly closed his fingers around Lyney’s balls. He squeezed lightly, and Lyney’s knees almost gave out. If he hadn’t been holding on to Wriothesley, he might have fallen. “I’ll give you a hand, since you so clearly need it. Perhaps I’ll even give you two,” Wriothesley said contemplatively, and his other hand slid up Lyney’s arm to his collarbones, pausing for a moment before rising one more inch to settle lightly over his pulse.
The sound which emerged from Lyney’s mouth was horribly embarrassing. Too loud for a whimper, too pathetic for a whine. It felt like it started in the root of his cock, which Wriothesley was methodically rubbing between strong fingers, echoed through his empty lungs, and then was turned high-pitched and breathy by the barest threat of Wriothesley’s leather-gloved hand closing around his throat.
“Very good,” Wriothesley said. His thumb stroked the curve of Lyney’s balls. “You’re always so responsive once given the proper cues.”
Lyney couldn’t nod. He could barely breathe. His own hands, which he’d intended to threaten Wriothesley with, now held him upright. “Please,” he begged, and even the slightest shift of his throat pressed into Wriothlesley’s fingers. “I’ll be good.”
Wriothesley snorted contemptuously. “I’ll be the judge of that.” He released Lyney for a moment, using the time to knock Lyney’s hands off his chest, and then grabbed Lyney by the hips and spun him around. “Look at her,” Wriothesley commanded. He was standing now, curled around Lyney, cock absently rubbing against Lyney’s ass like a promise. “Is she beautiful? Do you desire her?”
“Yes,” Lyney said helplessly. Lynette always looked beautiful. He desired her constantly. It was an integral part of his life: his heart beat alongside Lynette’s, and their bodies were one in every single way possible. “Of course.”
“Describe her.”
Lyney licked his lips, buying time. “She—” She looks like the crest of an ocean wave come to rest. She is the moon given life as a smile. She is my mirror, the source of my magic, a constant reminder of how precious our freedom is. “She’s waiting for me,” Lyney said, the words falling from his lips at Wriothesley’s warning squeeze. “I don’t want to keep her waiting anymore, my lord, please let me give her what she needs.”
“Oh, you’re such a good boy.” Wriothesley kissed the nape of Lyney’s neck. He shivered from the contact even as the praise warmed him. “Let me take one last pretense from you, pet.”
There wasn’t any time to protest, not that Lyney could anymore. Wriothesley took hold of the flimsy fabric he was dressed in and tore it from his body, exposing him utterly to the warm air. Lyney made a small noise as his cock fell free from his pants. He hadn’t realised how erect he was; he’d been too busy thinking about Wriothesley’s own bulge and Lynette’s beckoning wetness.
“Give her what she wants.” Wriothesley shoved Lyney forward. He stumbled, caught himself on the edge of the mattress. When he glanced back, Wriothesley was still standing, eyes fixed upon him, hands on his belt buckle. Give me what I want, that posture said.
Lyney nodded and turned back to Lynette. He leaned down to kiss her, gentle on her slack lips, drinking in the way she sighed and tilted her face towards him. Even unconscious, they knew each other. “I’ll make this up to you later,” Lyney murmured. She wouldn’t be truly satisfied until she heard what had happened from his own lips.
His torso lay nearly flat against hers. They matched so perfectly, only the swell of her breasts and the protrusion of his cock dispelling the idea that they were identical twins—one of which had been born with cat ears, to be sure, but that was even less relevant than their genders. Lyney placed one hand on Lynette’s chest, remembered how Wriothesley’s hand had so recently been there, and squeezed harder than he intended.
Lynette moaned, such a small and sweet sound, and Lyney couldn’t draw this out any longer. He guided himself into her, face heated by the knowledge that Wriothesley had been the one to prepare her, to ensure that she was wet and needy and so wonderfully open for him to sheath himself in without any friction at all. Lyney wanted to overwrite every touch of Wriothesley’s body with his own, and set to his mission with a will.
The slide of his cock into Lynette’s cunt was louder than his own breathing. His grunts were louder than her moans. None of it prevented Lyney from hearing the slick sound of Wriothesley’s hand on his own cock or the deep rumble of Wriothesley’s groans.
If he could just move fast enough—
Lyney slipped his hands beneath Lynette’s lacy dress so that he could clutch her hips, holding them tight against each other. Skin slapped against skin, desperate and driven, as Lyney lost himself in the only sensations he wanted to feel: his sister’s.
He felt it when she came. Even unconscious, she trembled around him, cunt clenching against him, hips twitching under his fingers, her wetness leaking out along his cock as he fucked her through her orgasm and tried not to come. She didn’t want that. She never wanted that. Not while she was asleep; that was a gift for him to give her once she woke.
Lyney pulled out, panting, cock twitching uselessly in the air as it sought that last little bit of sensation he needed to find his own climax. Beneath him, he saw Lynette’s flushed face and open mouth, mirror to his own, and leaned down to kiss her.
Something large and cold pressed against his ass as soon as he bent over.
“Stay there,” Wriothesley said. One hand wrapped around the back of Lyney’s neck. Soft leather. Warm fingers. The other prodded his legs further apart as Wriothesley’s lubed cock rubbed against his asshole.
“My lord,” Lyney gasped. His elbows were braced outside Lynette’s shoulders and his hands tangled in the blankets next to her ears as his head dipped to rest on her chest. “I did as you requested.”
“You did wonderfully,” Wriothesley agreed. He aligned himself and pressed in. “That’s why I’m adding another task. You can do this for me, can’t you? Be a good boy and service me as well.”
Lyney groaned at the inexorable intrusion of Wriothesley’s cock. “Yes, my lord.” There wasn’t anything else he could say. Lynette’s heartbeat sang steadily beneath his cheek, and Lyney tried to ground himself in that sensation as Wriothesley began fucking him with long, slow, steady strokes.
If the shock of Wriothesley’s request hadn’t taken the edge off Lyney’s arousal, he would have come on the first thrust. By the twentieth, Lyney was certain that Wriothesley was perfectly aware of how close Lyney was to coming and was intentionally refusing to allow him to pass that peak. Certainly Wriothesley’s own arousal seemed stable: he was hard and demanding but not needy. Lyney wished he would be. Lyney wanted Wriothesley to lose control. Lyney couldn’t do anything but take what Wriothesley gave him, though, because he was so effectively pinned between Wriothesley and Lynette on the bed.
Time turned liquid and syrupy as Lyney stayed there, bent over and braced by Wriothesley’s certainty and Lynette’s love. He didn’t need to do anything. He couldn’t do anything. He let himself rock with Wriothesley’s movements, stomach rubbing against the slickness between Lynette’s legs until she was whimpering in his ear again, shuddering beneath him in need. Lyney sobbed, finally finding his voice for her sake. “Please, my lord,” he said, “let her come. She needs it, my lord, don’t leave her like this when she can’t even wake.”
“Such a good brother.” Wriothesley patted Lyney on the ass. “Make her come and I’ll give you what you want, pet.”
Lyney nodded as vigorously as he could beneath Wriothesley’s hand. His cock was screaming at him, wanting something, anything to touch it. Lyney didn’t dare try to do something about that himself, but he could inch down Lynette’s chest to wrap his lips around her nipple.
She tasted divine. Lyney ran his tongue over her sweaty skin, feeling her pebbled areola, then began to flick her nipple the same way he would her clit when she sat on his face and ground into his mouth. She moved the same way now, unconscious and needy, and Lyney pressed his torso lower, let Wriothesley drive him more directly against her cunt. She panted beneath him, and he wanted—needed—more than this, because she did.
The moment Lyney wormed an arm between their bodies and crooked his fingers against her clit, she came.
So did he, because Wriothesley matched his motion and jerked him off with one swift pull of his gloved hand.
Lyney screamed, writhing against Wriothesley and Lynette alike, body uncontrollable yet so very aware. Every nerve was alight, and none moreso than those of his cock in Wriothesley’s gentle hand. The tenderness with which Wriothesley jerked him off brought Lyney back to himself just in time to collapse to the floor.
Wriothesley crouched down behind him. “Beautiful,” he murmured. He touched Lyney’s hand with the hand covered in Lyney’s own come. “Come here, my good boy. You did so well tonight.”
Lyney leaned into him, entirely spent.
Wriothesley picked him up, seemingly effortlessly, and laid him on the bed next to Lynette. Lyney forced his eyes open, saw Wriothesley looking down at them with a fond smile and a still-erect cock. “Wriothesley,” Lyney croaked, “I didn’t—”
“Shh.” Wriothesley stroked Lyney’s thigh, soothing him. “I didn’t want you to.” His other hand fell to tease his beautiful length, and Wriothesley grinned at Lyney. “Would you like to watch?”
Lyney took Lynette’s hand and squeezed it. He knew the right answer to this. “We both would.”
Wriothesley laughed. “I don’t know why I’m surprised. Of course you both want to see. It’ll take about five minutes for her to wake up, Lyney, so don’t worry when it doesn’t happen immediately.”
Wriothesley seemed completely indifferent to his erection as he walked back over to the table next to his chair. It held a tea set, of course, as well as the book Wriothesley had been reading when Lyney arrived. Lyney hadn’t looked past that to see the prepared syringe sitting neatly capped and ready to be used. Wriothesley picked it up, checked it, and returned to smoothly inject it into Lynette’s shoulder.
Once he disposed of the syringe, Wriothesley settled on the bed next to Lyney. The mattress creaked under his weight, tilting Lyney towards him—as if Lyney wouldn’t have been moving towards his warmth anyway. “I’ll sit with you until she wakes up,” Wriothesley said. He lifted Lyney’s head onto his muscled thigh. “Play as you’d like, but I won’t come until she’s awake to see the show.”
“I wouldn’t take that from her.” Lyney kept one hand firmly intertwined with Lynette’s. The other was blocked by Wriothesley’s leg. Left with no other ways to tease Wriothesley as he’d been invited to do, Lyney nuzzled Wriothesley’s cock with his nose. The hot flesh was a dramatic contrast from the chilly metal studs and tough leather that Wriothesley encased himself in; a reminder that, no matter how harsh Wriothesley seemed on the outside, his heart was warm and wide once you were welcomed in.
Wriothesley sighed and settled one hand in Lyney’s hair. “You are a good boy,” he said, and this time his tone was completely different. Gone was the cruel commandant of the Fortress of Meripode; in its place was a fond lover. “My favorite scamp.”
“What about Lynette?” Lyney asked, as he always did.
“Lynette is my favorite imp,” Wriothesley replied, ruffling Lyney’s hair. “Very different.”
It wasn’t, but that wasn’t the point. Lyney basked in Wriothesley’s amusement and affection as he idly attempted to get his mouth on Wriothesley’s cock. He didn’t need to do anything with it; he just needed to make sure that Wriothesley’s arousal didn’t entirely fade before Lynette woke up.
When she stirred, Lyney felt it by the tug of her hand against his. Lyney abandoned Wriothesley without a thought, rolling over to wrap his arms around his sister as Wriothesley laughed. “Dearest,” Lyney murmured, stroking Lynette’s cheeks and watching for the flutter of her eyes. “We’re together. We’re safe.”
“Of course we are,” Lynette mumbled. She turned into his embrace and nuzzled into the join of his shoulder and neck. “Where else would we be?”
“It’s not just us,” Lyney said, though he wanted to savor the sweetness of Lynette’s just-waking affection. “Wriothesley’s here too.”
Lynette nodded against his throat. “I remember. He said he had fun evening plans for us. Were they fun?” She stretched, the motion rolling down her spine to her toes, and she ended the motion with a pleased sigh as she hooked one heel around Lyney’s calf. “I feel like they were.”
“They were.” Lyney kissed her forehead. “Wriothesley wants to give us a show, Lynette.”
“I love shows.” Lynette peeled herself away from Lyney to give him a wide smile. “You told him to wait for me because you’re the best brother, right?”
“That’s right,” Wriothesley said. While they hadn’t been paying attention, he’d left the bed. Now, as they both looked at him, he grinned. “Are you ready?”
“Yes,” Lyney and Lynette chorused, entangled and avid.
Wriothesley was a practical man at heart. There was no fanfare. He simply leaned back, bracing himself against the wall, and began to jerk himself. He made no attempt to hide his reactions, from the pre-come beading on his cock to the way his muscles trembled at his arousal. The sound of his hand sliding along his length captivated Lyney, and he knew from Lynette’s press against him that she was equally moved.
“Come here,” Lynette said as Wriothesley began panting and his rhythmic motions turned erratic.
Wriothesley nodded and pushed off the wall. His hand didn’t leave his cock as he moved, stiff-legged, over to the bed. “Want to be part of the show?” he asked.
“Always.” Lynette looked at Lyney, and he read her intent in the swift glance.
They sat up in one motion and pressed their mouths to either side of Wriothesley’s cock, kissing around his heat, swallowing his orgasm as it dripped against their cheeks. Wriothesley braced himself on their shoulders, breath heavy and hot as his cock jumped between their tongues. “You’re so good to me,” he said, voice thick and gravelly. “Fuck, you’re so good, my beautiful twins.”
Lyney kissed the tip of Wriothesley’s cock and licked up the spurt of come that provoked. “You’re good to us too,” he said, and heard Lynette hum agreement as she sucked Wriothesley into another shuddering aftershock. “Otherwise we wouldn’t be here.”
“I’m glad,” Wriothesley said. He tugged them up, one after the other, to kiss them and swallow his taste from their tongues. “Thank you for trusting me,” he whispered. “I know it’s hard.”
Lyney sighed and looped his arms around Wriothesley’s solid ribs and Lynette’s soft waist. “It’s okay,” he said. “All the best things are.”
Lynette giggled. Lyney held in his own laughter, counting, waiting for Wriothesley’s mind to come back from floaty post-orgasm land.
After a full ten seconds, Wriothesley said, “Wait— Are you— I’m not just a dick!”
“We know that,” Lynette said, though the effect was undercut by her laughter. “But it was right there.”
“It still is,” Lyney added, grinding against Wriothesley’s slowly-softening cock. “Very easy.”
“Terrible rascals.” A smile tugged at Wriothesley’s lips, making him look his actual age for once. “My darling hooligans.”
Lynette kissed his cheek. “You wouldn’t have us any other way.”