Piece Us Together (Monstrous Survivors #3)

35. Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Five

Hunter

Dr. Singh leads me to a room off the main hall of the house, set up as a bedroom with no decorations or personality, likely for guests. He pokes around for a few tentative moments until I figure out what he’s trying to know and tell him that I’m aware of Maison’s tendencies to not care for himself and hurt himself. He looks relieved, admitting he had been torn between telling me that or not, even though Maison had said it was okay. After that, he goes into Maison’s most common self-harm behaviors and how accountability, structure, and check-ins are the keys to helping him. We go over a few options.

Then he says, “Hunter?”

It’s the tone, more than anything. It has me going still. “Yes?”

“I’ll be honest, I was hoping he’d put quitting as a goal. I think it’s tied to forgiveness, at least, so it may still be coming. We’re going to talk about it a lot in the coming weeks.” His eyebrows pull in. “I can’t stress this enough, though—I don’t believe it’s safe for him to go on another operation right now. I’m confident he’s not going to go out of his way to end his life, but I’m not at all confident that he wouldn’t sacrifice himself the second he got the chance.”

“You can’t stop him? Declare him medically unable or something?”

“Not anymore. He’s not working for our previous boss. Neither of us is. The missions he accepts now are up to him to take. There’s no one he needs to clear his health—mental or otherwise—with. No oversight.”

“Keats?”

Something shifts in Dr. Singh’s expression, almost like he’s become guarded. His voice is colder when he asks, “What do you know about Keats?”

“Only what Maison has told me. He’s an ex-operative.” I hesitate, though, because that’s not exactly true. He can tell. He’s waiting for more, one eyebrow raised, his eyes narrowed. “I know what assumptions I’ve made, based on observations. I have no idea how accurate they may be.”

“Like?”

“Well, he acts like he’s in charge. More than Maison, who was the leader of this team for a decade. More than Travis, who sees the lives of all of the survivors as his to protect. His biggest competition is probably Bryce, but Bryce makes sense, he’s spent so much time with this group. He feels a sense of kinship with the survivors. I have no doubt he’d fight for any of them if it came down to it, even against the operatives. Maybe especially against them.” I eye him, then decide to go for it. “It’s also strange, that he’s obsessed with Bryce. How, right? Nolan said he only met Keats a little while ago, when he came by after one of his first ops with the others. Not to mention the way he watches everything and everyone. He acts like they’re all his responsibility.”

“What are you saying?” he asks.

I shrug, still not entirely sure. It’s just something in my gut. Something I’m missing. What, exactly, I have no fucking idea. “I just think he has a lot of weight on his shoulders, like Maison. Misplaced weight, possibly. I also think he’d cut Maison off if we told him about things, but I know Maison wouldn’t appreciate that. Maybe next time I see him I’ll hint that Maison is struggling?”

He seems to soften. “Do you think Maison wouldn’t listen if you asked him to stay?”

“I know he would.” I wince. “He begged me not to ask.”

“That’s really hard. I want to ask you how you feel about that, very, very badly.” He chuckles and I join him with a soft laugh of my own. “You know, I’m always here, if you need to talk. No fee. If you’re comfortable enough mentally though, I think Maison needs you right now.”

I try not to look too relieved. I consider myself a very well-adjusted, mentally healthy person. I’d hate to have that whole view shattered and Dr. Singh seems like the kind of therapist who would see things even I’ve never seen. No thank you. Not today, Singh.

We shake hands and he gives me his number, then sends me on my way to go find my boys.

They’re in the kitchen where I left them, both resting their heads on the counter of the breakfast bar, sitting so close their noses are touching. Maison has his eyes closed. Nolan is just watching him breathe.

I soak the sight of them in.

Then I go to them, a hand on each of their backs, and say, “Time to bring you boys home.”

We’re just finishing dinner, an easy meal Nolan tossed together when we first got home. Nolan is on his knees with his head resting against my thigh and my soft cock in his mouth. His hands have been pulsing where he holds each of my ankles, like he’s checking I’m still here. I keep stroking his hair, liking the way it makes him melt and hum.

Maison has been quiet, complimenting the food and thanking me for driving him to the house, but otherwise keeping his head down and his mouth chewing. I’ve allowed it since I’ve needed to think anyway. But now the food is gone and I’ve come to a few tentative decisions.

“What color would you be if I told you I want to give you a few rules?” I ask him.

His grip tightens on the fork that’s completely unnecessary now that his plate is empty. “Green, probably. Depending on the rules…”

“Okay. Can we talk about them now, or do you need some time?”

“Can we, uh—not do it here?”

“Would you like to move to the couch? Or the bed?”

His cheeks flush. “Actually, I’ve been wondering—you think that bath of yours would fit the three of us?”

“I bet we could manage,” I say, as if I haven’t thought the logistics out myself. It’s a big fucking bath. The kind with a nearly neck-deep basin and a little ledge to sit on and jets around it. There are even two faucets, one on each end.

I tap two fingers against Nolan’s cheek to get him to release me. “Messy boy,” I say when I notice the drool he’s left behind. “Be good for me. Clean that up.”

He does so quickly and efficiently before placing a soft kiss on the tip and sitting back on his heels. I murmur, “Good boy,” because he is, but also because he’s so damn beautiful whenever I say that, now included. I swear, the blue of his eyes brightens beneath those words.

“You and Maison are going to clean up down here and meet me in the bathroom upstairs, alright?”

“Yes, sir.”

I lean down, giving him a kiss on the lips. “Go share that with Maison first. Don’t get distracted, though. You have five minutes before I come looking for you.”

He scurries out from under the table and practically climbs in Maison’s lap. Maison has just enough time to ask, “Did you eat enough?” before Nolan is kissing him in a way that the sweet, submissive boy on his knees a few seconds ago would never dare kiss me.

I have a stash of rather indulgent items in the bathroom, all bought with Maison and Nolan in mind—even if back then I was in denial about that. I smirk at my own ridiculousness as I sift through my options and settle on a lavender and chamomile bubble bath that will smell perfect with all the vanilla candles I have.

By the time my boys appear, the bath is filling with bubbles and I’m lighting the last of the candles. The lights are dimmed, helping the flickering flames illuminate the room. I can already tell from the way Maison is slumping against the doorframe that after the bath, he’ll be ready for bed. These past two days have dragged his emotions through the mud. He needs rest. Especially since Nolan’s friends are throwing him a party tomorrow—a party Carter will be attending.

“Can I strip you, sir?” Nolan asks tentatively, eyes wary.

I smile. “I’d like that, yes.”

He practically bounces toward me. I catch Maison smiling behind him. It widens when his gaze lifts to meet mine. I reach out, cupping Nolan’s head and stroking his hair as he begins working on the buttons of my shirt. When I tilt my chin, Maison comes forward. “You want me to undress him?” he asks, stopping behind Nolan.

“No.” I tilt my chin again. “Help him undress me.”

His eyes flash before he comes around Nolan and settles behind me. Nolan starts working my shirt off of me as Maison reaches around to unclasp my belt from behind. When I’m shirtless, Maison starts kissing along the stretch of my shoulders while Nolan lowers to his knees and pulls my socks off. They work together getting my pants and underwear down to my ankles in one swoop.

“Stay,” I tell Nolan quietly, a hand to the top of his head. Maison shuffles back when I turn. He takes an offered hand and lets me help him to his feet. I back him up a few more steps, not wanting it to feel like Nolan is kneeling for him. “How’s your arm?”

“Hurts. It needs to stay dry.”

“I know. I’ve got plastic wrap and we’ll keep it out of the water. Take it out of your sleeve, then let me do the rest.”

Nodding, he carefully works his injured arm out of the sleeve, letting it hang by his side. I make quick work of the sweatshirt after that, smirking when I see he’s not wearing anything under it. I’m not surprised when a moment later I discover he’s naked beneath his pants too. He smirks back, his eyes brighter than they’ve been in a long time.

I grab the plastic wrap I mentioned, wrapping his arm just like the internet said. I add an extra layer or two to be safe. Then I place a folded towel on the ledge around the bath and help him climb into the near-full basin. He doesn’t have to be told to rest his arm on the towel, his shoulders relaxing and eyes going heavy-lidded as he watches me start on Nolan.

Our boy is nervous, the anxiety practically vibrating off of him. I’m quick with his undressing, leading him to the tub and telling him to join Maison as I turn each faucet off. I move some of the candles closer to make the area bright enough to read their expression well before climbing in. They left the spot in between them open. I try not to grin at that. I sort of fail. Miserably.

Maison lifts his arm as I settle, wrapping it around my back to rest along the ledge behind me, his fingers skimming Nolan’s shoulder. Nolan turns, hooking his legs over my left one until his knees are dangerously close to my cock, his head tucking against my shoulder.

“I could sit like this with the two of you forever,” I admit with a deep sigh.

“Good,” Maison nearly growls.

Nolan laughs. “Yeah, we didn’t plan on letting you leave, sir. Probably for the best you’re happy about it.”

The water is hot, but the inside of my chest feels even warmer as the words sink in.

“Don’t make us wait,” Maison says when the silence threatens to settle in. “Please?”

“I won’t.” Even as I say that, though, I take a few seconds to organize my thoughts. This isn’t fun kinks and dirty talk. This is big stuff. Important. Dangerous, if not handled correctly. It’s probably sick, but that partly exhilarates me, even as it terrifies me. I’m beyond ready to step into this role. If Maison will let me, that is. “Dr. Singh told me a little more about the self-harm and self-care issues.”

Maison curls in on himself. “I’m sorry, I—”

“Hey, none of that.” I reach a soapy hand up to take his chin, tilting his face toward us. “I love you. All of you. This is a part of you right now. We’re going to work on it. We’re going to make it healthier. And I’m going to love you every second of the process, even if you backslide, even if there are days when you feel like you can’t fucking breathe it’s so hard.”

“We both will,” Nolan adds. “We’ll love you so hard you’ll be sick of us.”

Maison smiles, a little sad, a little ashamed still. “That won’t ever happen.”

“Excellent. Keep that attitude in mind, now. We need to set some rules. Some structure. You can be a part of choosing those, but some are non-negotiable.” When Maison flinches, I hurry to add, “When I say non-negotiable, it doesn’t mean there’s absolutely no wiggle-room. Just that the basis is important. For example—when you have the urge to hurt yourself or are struggling to care for yourself, you have to tell someone. You can choose who. You can choose how. We can set a new safeword, if you’d like. You can tell Nolan or me orange, or pink, or whatever else you’d like to use, and we’ll know you need us to not leave you by yourself and to make sure your needs are taken care of for a while. You could share that word with your friends if you’d rather. Or Dr. Singh.”

“You guys,” he says quickly. Then, “You, mostly. I don’t—I don’t mean it in a bad way. I love you, Nol, I really love you, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to lean on you as well as I can with Hunter.”

I can hear the hurt in Nolan’s voice when he says, “Oh. Okay.”

“It’s not—I just know that’s not your favorite headspace, being in charge. I think if Hunter is capable of taking care of both of us instead of taking care of you and you taking care of me, you’d rather that, wouldn’t you?”

When Nolan hesitates, even though the three of us know the answer, I tell him, “It doesn’t make you a bad person, darling. You care about him, just differently. That’s what’s beautiful about the three of us. We contribute different things, show love in different ways, and it works. The pieces of us fit together so well.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, sounding much brighter now. “They really do.”

I have to pause then, giving Nolan a kiss over my shoulder, then giving Maison one. They sigh in almost unison.

“Orange works,” Maison says. “For the safeword.”

“Orange it is.”

“What happens if I don’t, though?”

“Don’t use it when you need to?” He nods, looking away like he’s already done something wrong just by asking. “Then you’ll get caught and I will be insufferably on your ass until I decide I can trust you to tell me. You won’t be hurt, I won’t withhold care or love or comfort, but you will lose a lot of your personal space and privacy.”

He nods slowly. “Okay. I’m going to try, though. Try to use it. I promise.”

“And we’ll try to notice more. To let you know when we’re worried. Dr. Singh said you sometimes don’t feel very aware of the behaviors you’re using to harm yourself. It’ll take time for you to be able to see some of them.”

“He could make a list,” Nolan suggests. “Dr. Singh had us do that once, in group therapy. We made a list of self-destructive thoughts and behaviors and then we shared ours and heard each other’s and Dr. Singh added a few no one had listed. It helped us talk about them, but helped us see them better too.”

I nod. “He mentioned that exercise, actually. I think that’d be a great idea. We could also keep it somewhere for you to look at if you ever wanted to, Maison. Sometimes seeing it in writing is easier when you’re trying to evaluate yourself. It works the other way, too. You can list your thoughts and what behaviors you want to do when you’re struggling, then read them over and see them in a different way, deciding if they’re healthy or not.”

“That sounds…manageable.”

“Good. Remember, it’ll all take work. It’s just one day at a time.”

Maison gives me a look. “Don’t start saying motivational quotes. That’s where I draw the line.”

“Fair enough.” I laugh, letting the sound drift off after a second. “This next one is selfish and you’re allowed to say no.”

“Oh boy,” Maison mumbles.

“Don’t be a jerkface,” Nolan says, moving so he’s across from us and able to see us better.

Maison rolls his eyes. “Jerkface? Really?”

“Uh, yeah . A cute one, but still.”

“Okay, sassy and jerkface,” I say teasingly, getting offended sounds and looks from each of them. I smirk. “I want the two of you to stay with me for the next week or so.”

Their smiles freeze.

“I’m not asking you to move in and you can still absolutely say no, I just—”

“Yes,” Maison says.

“Fuck yes,” Nolan adds.

Maison nods vehemently. “Absolutely fucking yes.”

I chuckle. “Well, that was much easier than I expected…but I’ll take it.”

They look thrilled.

I hate that I have to ruin it.

“Maison, I don’t want you to go on any missions for a while. Not until your head is clear.” He goes still, his eyes hardening. “I’m not asking you to quit.” Not yet. “I’m asking for a break. Give your arm time to heal. Give yourself some time to work toward your goals.”

“You can’t help others without helping yourself,” Nolan points out. “You have to put your oxygen mask on first, right?”

His only reaction is a twitch of his jaw.

“A month. Just give us a month and we can go from there.”

“I’ll keep you busy with Christmas stuff!” Nolan adds.

Maison groans, but it’s a teasing sort of groan, his eyes rolling dramatically. “No. No Christmas stuff.”

“You know, if you’ll be staying here, we’re going to have to decorate,” I tell Nolan, ignoring our grumpy boy.

Nolan lights up like an LED bulb. “Really? Can we really? Do you have stuff? Can I buy you more stuff?”

“I warned you,” Maison says. He gives me a look. “There are going to be candy canes now. Over that toilet, right there.”

“I don’t mind. As long as I’ve got the two of you, I’m happy.”

Maison blushes beautifully. Nolan is too busy to be affected, rattling off the must-haves of Christmas decorations. I can’t wait to see his face when I tell him I don’t even have a tree.

Nolan stops mid-sentence, a thought seeming to occur to him. “Are there new rules about kink? Dr. Singh had sounded concerned about it, yesterday.”

“We didn’t go into that too much, no. He made it clear that the focus needs to be on the goals and the self-care, but he also said he trusts my judgment as far as sex comes into play. He stressed the importance of communication, mostly.”

“Did he say anything else?” Maison asks, watching the flame of a candle. “About kink? Or like—about anything I might have…said? About kink?”

I fight a frown, trying to keep my sudden worry stuffed down. “He didn’t, no. Is there something that the two of you talked about that you’d like to tell us?”

“Oh. Uh.” He squirms, but it doesn’t feel like an aroused squirm. Not with the tightness around his eyes and clench of his jaw. “I talked to him about a kink I really like. One that sort of took me by surprise.”

I glance at Nolan, unable to stop a small smile when I find him leaning forward, desperate for more. “What is the kink?”

He blushes hard enough to see even in the dim lighting. For the first time, it hits me that I don’t have to just look at that pretty color on his cheeks. I can touch it now. Kiss it. I lean forward, brushing my lips across the warmed skin.

“Such a pretty boy when you blush for me,” I murmur.

He shivers. His voice is soft and shaky when he admits, “The begging. I really liked begging.”

Fucking hell.

What did I do in an earlier life to earn these two beautifully perfect men?

“I really like making you beg,” I share. Then, glancing at Nolan, “Both of you.”

Nolan licks his lips, eyes heavy, but his gaze is focused on Maison. He can tell there’s more. Now that I look at him again, I realize the same. We wait, giving him a moment to breathe.

“It’s hot. Begging, I mean. It’s really fucking hot. But—uh.” He brings a soapy hand up, running it through his hair. “So, he asked if I’ve ever asked you to hurt me. With the self-harm and stuff—he said it’s not uncommon for people to ask for that, as like…an outlet, I guess. Using kink. I told him no. I don’t think I could survive it, having you hurt me. You’re just—you’re so fucking safe for me. You’re just—you’re safe .” He looks at me, eyes wide. “I don’t want you to hurt me. In my head, it’s like—I tell myself I deserve it, you know? And I hate that, I hate myself, and I—I can’t let you hurt me because it feels like then maybe you think it too, you know? And I know, I know that’s not how it works. I know you don’t think Nolan deserves to be hurt whenever you hurt him. But Nolan likes it. I don’t. I don’t want to be hurt by you. It feels like everything fucking hurts besides the two of you, besides what we have, and I can’t—you’re safe. You’re my safe place.”

I nod, placing a hand on the side of his neck in an attempt to comfort him. Steady him. Or maybe it’s myself I’m trying to do that for. It’s a little hard to speak when I say, “I’m glad, sweetheart. That’s all I’ve ever wanted to be for the two of you.”

He closes his eyes, pressing into my touch a little. “It’s why I like to beg, Dr. Singh thinks. It’s like a coping mechanism, I guess?”

I start stroking my thumb along the bottom of his jaw. Nolan moves forward, water gently lapping at us all with the movement. He settles between our legs, his ass using my left thigh to sit on, his hand pressing on Maison’s chest over his heart. His thumb touches the chain of Maison’s dog tags.

“Did he say why?” I ask.

“He—” Maison breathes out, shaky and harsh. His bottom lip trembles. “I told myself I wouldn’t beg. Before I gave myself up to them, for the operation, the night they—when they all…whatever. I said the one thing I wouldn’t do for those fuckers was beg. I’d take whatever they dished out. They couldn’t kill me, you know? Whatever they’d do to me, I’d survive it. It was one fucking night. Just one night. I could withstand anything for one night.”

“Maison, no one—”

“But I begged,” he says over Nolan. His chin ducks down. “I begged and begged and begged .” He sucks in another breath. It sounds heavy. Wet. “I begged so hard and they didn’t stop . They didn’t listen .”

I slide my hand to the back of his neck and guide him forward, letting him press his face to my chest. Nolan adjusts until he’s curled up against us, Maison’s chin resting on his head. Maison shudders.

“I’ll always listen to you, Maison.”

“I know.” He nods jerkily. “I know you will. That’s why—begging with you—it’s safe. I can beg and feel helpless and—and desperate. I can beg and beg and beg. But in the end, it’ll be okay because you—you’ll listen. You’ll give me what I need. I trust you to give me what I need.”

My throat threatens to close up. I blink hard a few times. “Thank you. Maison, that—that means a lot to me. More than I can explain.”

Maison exhales, heavy and shaky. He moves the arm around my back until he can tighten his hand on my shoulder. I can tell it’s killing him not to be able to move the other right now. Not to be able to grab us both tight. I do it for him, winding my arm around Nolan and leaning into it so I can grab Maison’s side too.

“My beautiful boys,” I murmur, taking turns kissing each of their heads. “So good for me. So fucking strong and brave and good.”

Nolan whimpers, Maison following the sound with a shudder.

“We’re going to be okay,” I promise them. A promise I’ve been making. A promise I’ll make for the rest of our lives, if they’ll let me. “We’re going to be great.”

I don’t know which of us kisses who first. It’s sort of a sudden flash of movement and then lips and hands are everywhere. I have just enough forethought to reach out and press Maison’s arm back down before it can get wet or hurt as two sets of teeth nip at my lips and someone’s hand squeezes my side tight enough to sting. Nolan’s ass rocks against my cock, begging it to harden despite the emotional moment, and Maison is making soft gasping sounds as I lick a stripe up his neck. Water is sloshing and a candle sizzles and smokes out.

Maison speaks first, ripping his head away with a sharp, “Reward!”

“Reward?” I ask breathlessly, my mind seemingly full of nothing but lust and what feels like bubble bath.

“Said if I go to Singh, if I make a plan, I’ll get a reward.”

I manage to pull myself together enough to remember that promise. I take in Maison’s flushed face and bright blue eyes, Nolan’s mess of sweaty, bubbly hair, and a bite mark on his jaw.

I grin. It feels dangerous. Feral. It must look it too, from the way they both shiver.

“Oh, kitten.” I take his chin, tilting it just to remind him I can. “I’m going to make you beg so fucking hard.”