Thorne

Thorne

I follow behind Ven's broad shoulders as we walk the long length of carpet leading to our room.

Our shared room.

Where I already know, I can feel it in my goddamn bones, that there's not going to be two neat little single beds arranged side-by-side.

No. It's going to be a double bed, one that is probably too small for the likes of the two of us to fit in without it being… cozy.

Sharing a bed with Ven? That's not anything new. We've experienced far more intimate things together since our girl came into our lives and somehow decided to stay, joining us all together in a way that I could hardly have imagined or fathomed or dropped to my knees and begged for only a blink of an eye ago.

What I couldn't have factored in amongst that, was the man opening the door in front of me.

He's bloodied and cut to shit, and normally Ky would be the one to do this part for him. To help with taking care of the fighter version of Ven after he's exhausted himself in the ring and needs to have someone to step in and give him that caring he so readily gives to others. Even if he'll never admit it in so many words.

He's an enigma of sorts, and difficult to comprehend. However, we're both one and the same in that regard. We both rely on actions, whereas Ky is good at expressing himself, and our girl seems to be able to read everyone like a damn book.

The two of us don't exactly know how to put what we're thinking and feeling into words, and therein lies the conundrum we're rapidly approaching.

As that door swings open, and the sight greets me that I already knew would be waiting for us, I swallow heavily, drop my bag, and fold my coat as we both make our way into the cramped space.

Shutting the door at my back feels like it seals us into a moment that I'm not sure either of us will be the same once we emerge out the other side, come morning.

I blow out a breath and scrub my hand through my hair. We're both standing in the small alcove of the single room. Shoulder to shoulder, we stare at the world's smallest fucking double bed.

There's nothing else that would fit in here; it's a tiny room at the end of the hall, and there's only a small balcony overlooking a lit-up winter garden outside and a breakfast table with two simple chairs.

Ven makes a gruff noise, dropping his bag down beside mine.

"I'll take a shower," he says.

My stomach clenches. This is the strangeness of our unspoken dynamic. We've seen each other naked countless times. There's practically nothing we haven't shared in the most intimate of ways, except at the same time, it's never been just the two of us in a situation like this.

It seems impossible for there not to be this energy prickling in the air. After all, we're in love with the same people. We spend our days and nights side by side. If I had been blind to truly understanding my feelings for Ky, that was one thing.

However, I can't deny that with Ven, it's always been something different.

Something I wasn't ever supposed to act on or know about, yet it's impossible to be around him and not feel the magnetic pull he has on all of us.

My eyes catch on his shoulders, the cut of his jaw, the wetness of his hair. He's never made it easy to know what he's thinking, and I guess that's why I've always left my own thoughts that skirt around the edges of what it means to share a life with Ven well alone.

He and Ky have their thing. He loves Foxglove something damn fierce. Does he want—or need—anything more than that?

Do I?

The question lingers and swirls in my brain as he drops his coat, then bends down to open his bag, except that's when I notice it. He sucks in a sharp intake of breath.

I'm moving before there's any chance of stopping myself.

"You're hurt."

He tries to wave me off. "Just my damn ribs. Nothing more than usual."

"What can I do?" I stand over him. "What would Ky usually do for you?"

As I say the words out loud, I hear it.

The air in this room turns electric in an instant. Crackling and sparking and igniting the million-dollar fucking question.

What would Ky usually do for Ven when they're all alone together for the night?

The man crouched down before me reaches behind his neck and tugs at the damp, slightly bloodied shirt to pull off with an awkward yank. Only he winces and makes a rough noise as he gets stuck halfway, no doubt bruised and sore after that fight that went the full ten rounds before he was pronounced the winner by unanimous decision.

"Don't be a martyr, Ven. Stand up."

He pauses, then cranes his neck to look my way.

I see the darkness of his eyes. They study me. Warily.

Even after all this time, after all these years, and with all the ways we've grown so deeply intertwined with one another. I know that exact look.

The one that speaks volumes for men like us who don't trust easily, and certainly are even less likely to open our hearts to anyone.

"Gonna get in that shower fully clothed, or what? Stand up." I nudge his knee with my boot.

As he slowly rises to stand before me, those eyes of his, ones that have seen more death and bloodshed than my own rotten soul has, bore into my own.

"Tell me if something hurts more than usual. I'll get a fucking doctor out here if I need to." I grunt, as my fingers reach for the soft hem of his long sleeve tee. As I curl beneath the fabric, my touch grazes his bare skin, and it's like the air gets sucked from the room.

My pulse thuds harder in my neck, and I work the material up over his chest. Revealing inch by inch all that tattooed skin and the rippling layers of muscle defined and cut and outlined across his chest.

He watches me work the material higher, and as I get to his pecs, our eyes lock. This feels like the moment we've been circling around for so damn long now. Something entirely more intimate than rubbing our dicks together inside our girl or sharing her and feeling each other move through her inner walls. It's so much more than both pleasuring Ky at the same time and driving him out of his head with how good it feels to be dommed by both of us at the same time.

My throat bobs as we stay stuck there, only a few inches apart, with both our chests heaving as I'm undressing him, and it's suddenly like we've stepped beyond an invisible threshold.

I know that the moment I lift this shirt over his head, everything is going to change.

"Ky is ok with it," he says. In a way that is so matter of fact, yet comes out in that rumbling, deep tone of his.

That knot in my stomach turns into a ball of heat. Winding and coiling and building in intensity.

"Our little fox, too."

"You've talked about it?" The words feel like they catch in my throat. Sounding more harsh and ragged than I intended.

His dark gaze glitters before he nods. "You helping me get out of this shirt, or what, Calliano?"

That right there. That's Ven's secret. He gives me the option, without making it difficult or awkward. All I have to do is decide which way I'm turning at this particular crossroads.

This man before me won't judge me if I turn back, or decide to take a different path. He'll still be right there and stick by my side all the same.

Ven gives me a choice, knowing that in my life, there have been so many times that my choice has been ripped from me or ignored. The tormented part of him sees my own tattered parts and respects if that's as far as I'm willing to go.

His eyes drop to my mouth for the briefest second, before they flick back up to hold my own.

Goddamn.

Knowing that he wants something more… that flips everything on a dime.

My fingers tighten in the material, and I pull, getting it up over his broad shoulders, and past his head. Leaving him bare-chested, coated in dried blood, and looking every inch the murderous bastard he was when he first walked into my life. Only, I know that good heart he hides away, that side of him he protects in much the same way I've learned to do over the years, too.

I let my gaze roam across his skin, noting the patches of purple starting to bloom on his ribs down one side, and my head tilts as I examine him for anything that might be more concerning than just needing some ice and painkillers.

"Nothing you haven't seen before," he murmurs.

"Just making sure you're not gonna collapse on me with internal bleeding or some shit like that." I poke my tongue against the inside of my cheek.

"You planning on being rough with me?"

My eyes narrow, heart pounding. We're so close, yet we haven't really touched one another at all.

"Maybe." I study him, watching as his pupils dilate a little more. "But you know as well as I do there's a time and a place for pain. I suspect you've had your fair share tonight."

His nostrils flare.

I crouch down, and gesture toward his boot. Knowing that he couldn't even get a t-shirt over his head, there's no hope in hell of him removing his own boots, or we'd be here all night.

As my fingers work to untie the laces, and loosen them, before attending to the other side, I feel his stare boring into the top of my head.

"I can hear you thinking," I say. Sliding one boot and sock off for him.

"What are we gonna be, a couple of switches?" He chews the words, shifting his weight to let me repeat the action on the other side.

I purposely let the question hang in the air. Weighing it up, before I dare reply, as my body keeps heating and my dick thickens inside my pants, the longer this conversation and the act of my putting my hands all over him progresses.

"If that's what you need, Ven." Standing upright, that movement brings us back eye to eye. "Though, I don't actually believe that's what you want."

Ven makes a dark noise.

"No. You're gonna continue to take care of Foxglove, just like you've taken care of Ky for a fucking long time, but I think you need someone to take care of you every now and then."

My hands hover over the buttons of my shirt. Even though it's fairly fucking obvious where this is heading, I still pause for a second. Letting us breathe into this decision we're both about to enter into with our eyes wide open.

"What about you, Calliano?" He watches my hands as they start to move, threading each button through its eyelet until the fabric hangs loose, allowing me to shuck the shirt off and toss it toward my bag. "Who takes care of Thorne in all of this?"

I pause for a second. Trying to collect the words that refuse to come together neatly, yet they're in my brain somewhere. "This is what nourishes me. Seeing you all in a good place. Knowing I can be part of giving that to all of you… that's more than enough for an asshole like me."

Ven's eyes drift down over my own bare torso. Can he hear my pulse racing? Because it sure feels like there's a drum hammering inside my chest.

I want this with him, and knowing the others have already talked about it, and given their blessing, well, then it somehow seems I've yet again ended up in a situation where I'm the last one to realize what has been right there for the taking this entire time.

"So, you're gonna get in that shower, and you're gonna let me take care of you."