Love & Stitches at The Asylum: The Final Parts

 

Hello, Asylum friends! 

We've been busy putting up our new web site at https://www.AsylumFightClub.com, finishing up Part 2 of Sub 101, Book 1, and taking some well-earned rest and recovery time. 

You'll hear from us soon in the coming few weeks, when we make the book available for purchase on the web site, but in the meantime we wanted to get you the final chapters of Love & Stitches at The Asylum.

Sub 101, Book 1, Part 2 will be available a week ahead of other outlets via our web site. It's our way of making sure that our friends in Europe and elsewhere are able to purchase the book even when other retailers are slow to upload.

Now, happy reading and enjoy the weekend!

Tibby & Bianca

****

Chapter Seventy-Six

It was rare that Dallas woke up before Rhodey, and even rarer still when he managed to ease from the bed without alerting either him or Avery that he was leaving. The events of the past twenty-four hours had his men sleeping soundly, Rhodey’s necessary hyper vigilance having worn the Dom down until Dallas saw the strain in the deepening lines around his eyes.

Convincing him to sleep reminded Dallas of getting Ana to nap those rare times he’d babysat her without Avery or Keiran around. One part bribery and one part application of warm milk. Except in Rhodey’s case it had been one of his boy’s signature whiskey toddies. 

Moving quietly, he snagged his jeans from the black leather reading chair he’d left them over last night for this express purpose, and brought them to the living room to put on. It was easier to head downstairs shoeless and shirtless—likely breaking several health code violations in the process—than it was to fully dress and maintain the stealth factor.

Something I clearly need to work on.

In the bar, Matt puttered around, putting the coffee together already at half-past four a.m. with only the lights over the gleaming surface illuminating the room. He looked up as Dallas entered, eyes puffy with sleep himself. “Morning.”

“Good morning, my boy.” Dallas took the seat to the left of Lawson’s since neither Rhodey nor Noah and Curtis was there to claim it. “I hope I’m not disturbing your peace and quiet.”

Matt glanced at him with a slanted smile. “Not yet. Keep talking and I’ll reconsider.”

Though he’d hung out with Lawson’s husband on occasion, playing video games with him and Reed, there was still a lot he didn’t know about him. Would like to learn, especially if they might be co-subs soon. “Not chatty in the mornings?” 

“Not really. And I like to go over what I need to do in the café first thing, so I set up my day right.” The ka-chunk of the coffee maker turning on as Matt toggled the red button preceded the sound of its pump and hum of its heating coil. 

Sitting back, Dallas nodded. “Noted.” He skimmed the backbar with his gaze, noting the gaps that would need to be filled since he was on the schedule for that evening. 

A comfortable silence descended as Matt went about his morning routine, and slid a cup of coffee with cream and sugar in front of Dallas without comment. The first sip was a burst of heaven across his tongue, and the second made him sigh into the cup. “You’re magic.”

“Nah. I worked to learn it. Mostly I’m made of YouTube and barista Discord chat rooms.” Grinning his thanks at Dallas, Matt disappeared briefly into the galley, leaning in to press the security gate button as someone rolled through.

A few minutes later, Jamie stumbled in sleepily with Connor behind. Dallas stiffened slightly, questioning gaze meeting Connor’s in the mirror. Had the sub been told? Would there be a drama fest at five a.m. or could they all relax and have a pleasant morning?

“Good morning.” Connor’s tone was cheerful as he hefted a heavy, bedazzled bag a bit higher on his shoulder, steadying Jamie with an arm around him. “Mind putting this behind the bar for me, Matt? I’ll bring it up for Jamie in a bit. I think I need to carry him up for a nap first, though.”

“Sure.” Matt took the bag by his fingertips, groaning playfully. “What’cha got in here, kitten? All your kibble?”

Tucking his face into Connor’s side, Jamie said something that sounded like, “Nope. The bodies of my enemies.”

Dallas snorted. “Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”

One green eye peeked out from under Connor’s arm. “Who says it was a bed?”

“We camped out under the stars.” Connor kissed the top of Jamie’s head. “I made sure it was nice and cozy. And used my special powers to keep all the bugs that don’t mind the cold away.” He tipped Jamie’s chin up with a finger. “We’ll do it again soon. And if it’s too cold when I get back, we’ll drive out to the lookout spot and enjoy the view that way.”

“Yes, sir. I’d really like that.” Though he seemed a little grumpy, Jamie’s face wasn’t puffy or blotchy from tears. It seemed the little pop star had at least learned how to keep calm and carry on living with a bunch of fighters and mercs. 

Dallas silently saluted the kid, relieved that at least he wouldn’t be setting Noah—and hence the entire place—off, giving Rhodey even more work and worries. “I’ll have a cup of Matt’s finest ready for you when you come down. Do me a favor and be extra quiet so you don’t wake up my man. He needs sleep.”

“It’s good to know he does that now and then. I was starting to wonder.” Connor lifted Jamie up into his arms, cradling him against his chest. “I hope you all won’t miss me too much. I’ll try to get this job done and get back as soon as possible. Keep a light on for me.”

Tone teasing, Dallas spoke over his mug. “Miss you? What’s your name again? Do you even have a last name?”

“Yes.” Connor chuckled, continuing to the stairwell without giving him more than that. It wouldn’t be hard to find, considering the man was connected to an A-list celebrity, but he never did seem to discuss much more with the Core than he had to. The only one who knew him well was Jamie, and he seemed to prefer it that way.

Mopping up a bit of milk he’d spilled near the barista station, Matt glanced over his shoulder at Dallas, his gaze dipping to Dallas’ throat. “Do you mind my asking, sir? Do you have a...” He motioned to his own throat. “Collar?”

Dallas set down his mug, swallowing the mouthful of coffee. “Mph. Yeah.” He nodded, pulling out the breakaway chain that held Rhodey’s tag, and would hopefully have Lawson’s added to it soon. “Not as fancy as yours, but I don’t need all that.”

Rag set down on the black rubber spill mat along the lip, Matt turned fully to examine the tag, plainer than most of the tags the other subs had, but the engraved pickaxe and shovel was an inside joke between Dallas and Rhodey, his Dom’s own way of saying ‘Mine’.

After a moment, Matt lifted his clear blue gaze. “You like being a switch?”

It was a bit of an odd question, but Dallas rolled with it, having been asked more invasive things about his preferences, and by people with far less of a vested interest. “Yeah. It suits me. I like the...advantages each side brings.”

“You never get grumpy about the loss of control?” Brows pulled together, Matt rested his forearms along the edge of the bar.

“Do you?” Dallas pushed back, one brow raised.

Matt blushed. “Sorry, sir. I just wondered if it’s different for you. Like, what if you’re not in a subbie headspace, but Rhodey wants you to be?”

Shrugging, Dallas cradled his mug in both hands. So far, that hadn’t really happened. He found the man easy to follow, both as a leader and a Dom. Fair, firm when he needed to be, he tended to make decisions that suited everyone, not just himself. And if he did take something for his own from time to time? Well, all the better. Probably he should do it more damned often. 

Rather than mention all of this, Dallas glanced at Matt’s thick chain. “No more than you do when your Dom wants you to do something you find chaffes.”

“Yeah. I can see how that’d be the case.” Pushing away from the bar, Matt went back to prepping another coffee, this one in one of the hand thrown mugs Lawson’s boys had gotten for him. 

Dressed in well fitting dark wash jeans that were a little baggier around the ass and a black T with the Roughhouse Café logo emblazoned in white on the back, Matt worried his bottom lip with his teeth as he worked. 

“What’s on your mind?” Dallas finished the dregs of his coffee. “Besides whether or not I find it uncomfortable to kneel for my Dom?”

Matt’s shoulders stiffened, but he breathed deep, seeming to count before he opened eyes that he’d closed at the question. “I won’t sub to Rhodey. If you do wear Lawson’s collar, I’m worried he’ll start to take over our quad, too. He has a way of worming into everything. The only reason he hasn’t with Jamie and Wren is because they sub to Noah and Jared, and it’s, like, Domcest or something.”

It was a good thing he hadn’t taken another sip of coffee—and that his mug was empty—because Dallas would’ve spat the mouthful over the bar. Too entertained to be pissed, he shook his head with his quiet laugh. “Believe me, if Rhodey decided to Top you? He’d make sure you enjoyed it—unless you made him think another approach would work better.”

Chin jutted, a spark of defiance in his eyes now, Matt fisted his hands by his sides. “There’s nothing he could do to make me want to do that.”

Amusement curved Dallas’ lips. “Don’t let him hear you say that. It sounds like a challenge, boy.”

“Looks like I’m just in time for an early episode of Days of Our Lives in The Asylum.” Shea ambled over to the bar, holding a garbage bag out of reach as Danny scampered to his side and jumped up to try to grab it from him. He waved his finger at his boy. “Laundry after breakfast, little mouse.”

Danny made a face at him. “The clothes can wash while I eat, sir. I don’t want to wait until Jacks notices that the machine is broken. You said you’d fix it days ago.”

Grunting, Shea slung the bag over one shoulder. “Maybe I want him to notice. He’s sexy when he’s all worked up. But if it bothers you that much, I’ll go pick up the part today.” He snatched Dallas’ mug, glanced inside, then put it back down. “Can I have a cup if you’re not busy, my boy? I need to get to the security room and make sure everything’s set up for me to take over full time.”

“And here I thought I was the early bird today.” No matter how early Dallas got up, however, it seemed there was always someone in the bar there before him. “I was going to get in an early workout and get ready for my match against Franco tonight.” He glanced at Shea. “If you want to spar?”

Before Shea had a chance to answer, Danny managed to grab the laundry bag and jutted up his chin. “If he doesn’t, I’d like to, sir.”

Shea’s expression darkened. “You train with Matt and Reed. Jacks already told you that. And if you didn’t hear it? Let me repeat it. You don’t need to know how to fight beyond the basics, my boy.”

It wasn’t exactly clear what was going on with Danny this morning, but one thing was for certain, Shea wasn’t messing around. Signaling Matt for more coffee with a tap of his finger to the bar, Dallas slung one arm over the back of his stool. “You know I won’t give him more than he can handle, my man. It can’t hurt to know what to do if he comes up against someone bigger than he is.”

The surly look on Shea’s face was familiar, over years of him digging in his heels against any kind of structure in The Asylum. But he finally nodded slowly. “I know. And he’s being fussy and I have trouble pushing him as far as he needs to go.” He winked at Matt. “The only reason he’ll even train at all is because of you, so thanks for that. He now knows he won’t die.”

Not on my watch...

Or Rhodey’s, Keiran’s, Jared’s, Noah’s...

The list went on. Between Danny and Pike, they had about the entire Core melting with looking after them. It was nice to see the Doms’ softer sides coming out. Of course, he’d always known it was there but it did the men good to be able to see it in themselves. That these two subs brought it out, rather than causing the other kinds of not-so-fun drama that followed a few of the others like a cloud was a very good thing. For them and for the place.

Danny hugged the bag of clothes that covered him from chest to toe with a stubborn look on his face. “Matt taught me good. And I want to keep learning. But…” He wrinkled his nose and it was all too obvious he was searching for the right approach. He met Dallas’ eyes, as though he was in a place to override his own Dom’s decisions. “I need to wash this stuff first. Jacks will be upset.”

“The laundry is right off the gym.” Dallas threw in with Danny, winking at him before he threw Shea a cajoling look. “Come on. You spar with me, and he can do laundry and we’ll give him pointers between loads. I’ll even let you get in a few hits.”

That got him a dry look. “You don’t need to. If I can’t hold my own, I don’t belong here.” Shea glanced over at Danny, then leaned in, lowering his voice. “He tries, but he’s still not great with washing all the different stuff. I’m trying to make sure Jacks isn’t too stressed, but still has fun. And Danny shrinking his Gucci boxers ain’t gonna do that. It’s my bad. I got busy and put off getting the part and tried to write it off.”

“Did you audition for something?” Matt put a couple spill proof mugs on the bartop this time, one closer to Shea. At Dallas’ questioning look, he tipped his head toward the gym doors. “So you don’t piss of Law bringing open ceramic mugs in there.”

“Oh, yeah.” Mention of Lawson had Dallas’ gaze going soft and the world a little fluttery. His lips curved with his involuntary smile. Every time he’d seen the man in the past few days he’d gotten the goofiest look on his face and had to turn away. “Definitely wouldn’t want that.”

Danny blinked, shaking his head. “Me? No, I just wanna be here. And I don’t want any of my Doms fighting over…” He pressed his lips shut.

And Shea sighed, rubbing a hand over his mouth. “Danny, baby, that’s not for you to worry about. We’ve got this.”

Feeling like he missed something, Dallas frowned at the coffee lid as he made sure it was screwed on tight. “I think Matt was asking you if you auditioned for something, Shea, but I’m not sure. You put off getting what part?”

“Oh!” Shea barked out a laugh. “The part for the washing machine. It’s been banging and ain’t washing shit. I’ve kept it from Jacks and it’s stressing Danny out. Along with the whole us being ‘baby Doms’ and Rhodey getting all intense. Fucking soap opera around here sometimes. What can I say?”

“You know you’re not, right?” Dallas stood, taking his travel mug with him and heading toward the gym. “Baby Doms. I had the same kind of experience you did when I collared Keiran. No serious relationships. Lots of playing around.” He opened the door, loving the clean smell that somehow never stopped smelling of sweat and beer at the same time. “He just says that to rattle your cages because he knows you’re capable of a fuckton, and he has a soft spot for this one.”

Shea’s expression softened as he glanced back at Danny, who was lingering in the doorway. “I know. And I wanted that for my boy. I still do. I just…sometimes, I see the other Doms, and I…hope I’m doing enough. He doesn’t ask for anything and I fucking wish he would. I could go for a good temper tantrum. Fuck, even when Keiran throws shit? It’s clear. But Danny will accept anything and it…sometimes it doesn’t give me much to work with. And when things go wrong? I have Rhodey giving me that look.”

Voice lowered, Dallas whispered even though he knew his words would carry across the empty gym. “You could always order him to throw a tantrum.” His lips quirked as he met Shea’s hazel eyes, enjoying the way his fresh buzz cut showed them off. “Just a small one.” He held his thumb and forefinger apart, teasing. “Like, tell him to throw the socks on the floor. And stomp his foot. Because it turns you on. See if he’ll do it as a game.”

That got Shea staring at him like he was speaking a foreign language. “Have you met my boy? I mean, it does turn me on when Jacks throw a fit, but we’re on a different level. With Danny, if he got that upset? It would break me.” His cheeks reddened. “And, yeah, this is why people call me a baby Dom. I want to wrap my boy up in a bubble.”

“That’s not being a baby Dom.” At the risk of contradicting Rhodey, Dallas shook his head. “That’s loving someone and wanting to keep them in a good place.” Motioning Danny into the gym with his laundry, Dallas put his arm around Shea’s shoulders with a jostling squeeze. “But if he gets a little pissy with you about laundry? That is him pitching a fit.”

Shea grinned, as though seeing it for the first time. He looked over to where Danny was hugging the garbage bag full of laundry like he’d defend it with his life. “That’s a good point. Thank you. I wanted him to be able to be that open with me and…I didn’t realize he was doing just that.” He raised his voice. “Go on, my boy. Put the clothes on. Then come back here. Dallas will have a thing or two to show you when he’s done with me.”

Pausing halfway to the club’s laundry room, Danny furrowed his brow. “Dallas is really strong. Please be careful, sir?”

“Don’t worry, sugar cookie, I won’t hurt your Dom.” Dallas crossed his heart.

Danny wrinkled his nose at him. “What you consider ‘hurt’ leaves a lot up for debate, sir. If Jacks sees bruises, he’ll come after you. And he’s more than a pretty face. He can be savage.”

“I’m aware.” Having met the man in the ring on more than one occasion, Dallas put paid to Danny’s assertion. Climbing over the ropes, he decided to forego going into the locker room to put on shorts. “Come on, Shea. Let’s see if we can put all these motherfuckers to shame by being half finished with our days before they get out of bed.”

A competitive glint showed in Shea’s eyes as he joined Dallas in the ring, snapping his fingers at Danny to get him moving to complete the chore he’d fought for. “Let’s. I know I can’t fight Rhodey. But maybe if I can pull off a decent showing against you? He’ll stop thinking I can’t take care of my own sub.”

While Dallas highly doubted that Shea would still have a sub if Rhodey actually thought Danny wasn’t being properly looked after, he decided not to give up all his man’s secrets.

Discretion, valor, yadda yadda. 

Bouncing on the balls of his feet, he warmed up with jabs at the air, shifting his weight side to side. The lashes Lawson had given him were nearly gone, his body always having been a quick healer, but with just the right force and momentum he managed to re-activate a few of the deeper ones. 

Blood humming, he grinned at Shea. “Let’s see what’cha got.”

Even though Shea was a damn good fighter, he still had zero discipline. Most of his training was from the Navy, where there were certain limits to how far you could go without a gun in your hands. There were a lot of fighters like that around The Asylum, which was why Keiran training from nothing had put him ahead of several. There was a huge difference in being trained by someone who told you it was life or death, and someone who was following a manual.

And Dallas had been trained with both.

Driving forward, Shea aimed for center mass to drive Dallas onto the mat, relying on strength alone. For most fights, it would give him an advantage.

But Dallas even taking a hit like that? Would kill him on a mission.

“You’re a man, not a machine. Don’t come at me like a piledriver.” Dallas spun out of the way, using motion and momentum to swipe Shea’s feet out from under him on the way by. “Pretend I’m one of those annoying mayflies that always seem to be where your hand isn’t, when you try to catch them. You’ve gotta predict where I’m going to be and make me walk into your fist.”

Shea growled, shaking his head as he missed a punch aimed at Dallas’ jaw. “It’s not that simple. I can fight anyone else. I can’t fight like you.” He let out an irritated sound at another missed punch that would have knocked any other fighter out. “I’ll get there. I will do anything to make sure my men are safe.”

There was no sound to alert Dallas to Rhodey’s presence, but he’d been trained to feel it. To know his position when they were in a place where that knowledge alone meant survival.

His Dom’s voice was quiet, barely reaching him above the blocked punches. “Is that the only reason you let me have him, my man? Because I make a good shield?”

“No!” Shea growled, backing out of reach, against the ropes. “That and…I see what he means to you. What he means to your men. And I want that for him.”

“Of course you can’t fight like me. You’ll fight like you, and if you managed to land any of those hits I’d be out cold.” Dallas laughed, imagining how unimpressed Rhodey would be if that happened—with him anyway. Shea, he might kiss. “Look.” He weaved out of the way of another uppercut. “Be strong. Be direct. Just like your personality. But don’t throw it at me when I expect it. You come in, all guns blazing all the time. I’m saying to hold it until the last second. Then let me have it.”

While Shea followed his instructions, putting in his all, Rhodey caught his eyes. Gave a slight shake of his head. He wanted the man to lose this one. To accept he needed them. Himself, Dallas, Keiran and Avery. As much potential as the man had, he had a long way to go.

He expected Dallas to send the message. One that would solidify when their quad, and Shea’s trio, were intertwined.

Grabbing Shea’s fist on the next punch, Dallas swung him around to face Rhodey, taking the fall with him to the mat. Controlling it so he didn’t bruise so much as Shea’s pride. He landed along his back, wrapping his limbs and bringing his lips close to Shea’s ear. “Even after you know you’ve got him—because you do—we’ll still be here. Because we’ve got you.”

The door to the exercise room, where the laundry room was tucked away, opened. Danny stopped short. And pulled out his phone.

Rhodey groaned, shaking his head. “Fievel, you don’t need to bring Jared into this…damn it.” He caught Shea’s eyes. “Tap out.”

Writhing under Dallas, Shea growled. “Like fuck.”

“Tap out. For your boy.” Dallas’ breaths came harsh, but his voice was soft. As calm as Shea needed him to be. “Lawson taught me that you can’t win until you know how to lose. Once you do? The world is yours.”

This was the point where it was clear where their training was so damn different. Shea shook his head, still struggling. Even with the few fighting moves he had, Keiran knew when to give in and try a new approach. However, Shea tended to wait until he was completely broken before admitting defeat.

And the unimpressed look Rhodey gave him didn’t spell anything good. “This is why I won’t let you collar my boys. You can’t handle them. You can barely handle your own.”

Danny’s phone slipped from his fingers as he stared at Rhodey. “They can. They’re good Doms, sir.”

Releasing Shea from the hold, Dallas smacked the mat. “I’m tapping out for us both.” He was over the ropes and headed toward the showers before Shea could get to his feet. 

It was rare he couldn’t get through to someone, or do what Rhodey wanted, and the entire situation made his skin itch. In the locker room, he yanked on the shower before he’d even fully gotten his jeans off, tossing them in a wet pile that slapped against white tile just outside the bay as he stepped under the spray.

Hot water hit his skin and he tipped his head back, gasping against the torrent as he remembered the pissed off moment he’d kicked over Lawson’s bike. How somehow the man had gotten through to him. Something Dallas hadn’t been able to do for Shea.

“Fuck.” He growled into his wet palms.

A heavy hand landed on his shoulder, shoving him hard against the shower wall. Rhodey leaned in close. “Don’t. Don’t do that. This was me. I can’t give any room for mistakes. You know that. But you got to him. You have what I don’t. Stick with it.”

Water blurred Dallas’ vision, making an impressionist painting of Rhodey’s severe browline, softening it in ways nature hadn’t seen fit to do. “What I won’t do is break him the way he seems hell bent on. I don’t know why Lawson even allows him to get in the ring. Half the time he ends up in the clinic.”

“True.” Rhodey brought a wet hand to Dallas’ cheek. “That was you, once. You had something to prove. You don’t anymore. He’s not there yet, but it’s either let Curtis tear his arm out of its socket a few more times or let you show him he’s good enough without winning every time. I would take that boy if he couldn’t protect him. We both know that. But he both wants me to step in and wants to reach a different level, without stepping back and learning how.”

“I know.” Steam billowed, buffeted by the spray, the harsh sound of the water pummeling the hard landscape around him somehow making the conversation seem softer. Gentler. “I know you know he’s capable. If he got out of his own way for five seconds he’d see that and stop throwing punches before he even knows where they’re going to land.”

Rhodey leaned in, brushing a kiss over Dallas’ lips. “You learned the hard way until I got my hands on you. We’ll let him do the same.” He breathed out a laugh. “I don’t like seeing you in the ring. Part of me feels you’re wasting your talents. Another part worries you want more than I can give. But I will always find a way to give it, my man. While you rise in the ranks and earn your status. One that’s already secure, in my mind.”

Pretty certain he’d never said these words to Rhodey before, Dallas shook his head. “You’re wrong. I don’t need or want more than you can give. And it’s been a long time since I worried about my standing with anyone but you.”

A look of unexpected surprise filled Rhodey’s eyes before he touched his forehead to Dallas’. “That means a lot to me, my man. Thank you. And…I appreciate you putting up with me testing the Doms of the boy I claimed for us. You get me being random as fuck and I appreciate that, too.”

“At the risk of sounding full of shit, you’re not so random. You’re quick, and like I told Shea. Sometimes you have to look not at the punch but where it’s likely to land so you can understand the hit.” Skimming light finger touches up Rhodey’s arm, Dallas brought his lips a nanometer from Rhodey’s so that the water droplets coating their skin were what connected them.

Rhodey smiled as he brushed a kiss over Dallas’ lips. “I love you, so fucking much. You’re right. I want them there. I want to feel as secure with them as I do with you, and they have a long way to go. But I’m trying not to be a tyrant.” He sucked on Dallas’ bottom lip. “Can’t you tell?”

Humming his agreement, Dallas enjoyed the feel of Rhodey surrounding him, the way his own dick fattened, growing heavy against his thigh as it took notice of the man’s nearness. “I don’t think fucking him in an elevator vestibule will work. Maybe if he were unconscious? But then he wouldn’t have nearly as much fun as I did.”

“Mmm, no. He wouldn’t. We’ll have to try something different for the men we’ve let close to our circle.” Rhodey turned Dallas to face the wall, baring his ass and pressing against him. “Our little mouse got Jared involved. Let’s have fun before we face the music.”

Jared’s wry tones echoed from outside the shower. “No, please. I’m enjoying the show.”

If Rhodey’s presence was intimidating to some, his and Jared’s together would be downright overwhelming. Only a select few ever got to be in a position with them like this when their attention wasn’t bad news.

But Dallas? He’d never had a reason to fear either.

And right now?

The passion, along with the intensity, the edge of darkness and danger spilling between them with no effort at all…

Is going to be a fucking rush.

Chapter Seventy-Seven

Cheek pressed against the cold, slick tile, forearms braced, Dallas met cold blue eyes and grinned. “I don’t mind an audience.”

The pressure continued, filling him even as Rhodey spoke, thrusting in hard. “Neither do I. A lecture now would be kind of hot. I’m listening, my man.”

Shucking his dark gray robe, Jared left it on a peg on the wall opposite the showers, turning on the spray in his own portion of the wide open bay and stepping under it. His dick struck Dallas as stocky—wide like a fist—just like the rest of him. He watched it lengthen as Jared took a handful of soap from the wall dispenser, his gaze never leaving the place where Rhodey and Dallas’ bodies joined.

Dallas groaned, palms squeaking against tile, his balls getting into the action with a buzzing tightness that only added to the stretching burn Rhodey left in his wake with each penetration and withdrawal. “Oh, God. Life goal achieved.”

“There we go.” Rhodey pounded into him harder, reaching down to stroke his dick. “I’m good to my subs. No need to worry, my man.” He slid his lips along the side of Dallas’ neck. “He won his last fight. He’s earned this and more.”

Brain too overloaded from the overstimulation of nerve endings much further south, Dallas nodded his agreement as Jared used the soap not to wash his hair, or slick over his muscles, but to lube himself up. He began to slowly pump his dick, the dark red head disappearing and reappearing in his fist, playing hide-and-go-seek with Dallas’ gaze in the exact same rhythm Rhodey fucked him.

“Apparently, I’m good to your subs, too.” Jared leaned back against the wall, knees slightly bent. “Getting out of my warm bed at five a.m. to answer their summons. How will you make it up to me? My house calls don’t come cheap.”

Rhodey hummed against the side of Dallas’ neck as he kept up his long thrusts. “I didn’t want him to disturb you. You can take the payment out of his cute little ass.”

The answering look on Jared’s face was a feral kind of smile he only wore on special occasions in the dungeon. “Don’t think I won’t take you up on that, husky.”

A shiver walked down Dallas’ spine and back up again, turning into a full body shudder that only drove Rhodey deeper. Lifted up on his toes with the next thrust, Dallas grunted. Even the bobbing of his dick, the way the water sluiced over his tenderest bits, became an erotic torture as his mind went sideways into some fucked up fantasy where Jared had Danny in a bondage harness, while he co-Topped the sub with Rhodey in executioner’s garb.

It didn’t matter that it’d never happen. It was fucking sexy as hell.

“Do it.” Rhodey’s tone turned rough as he slammed in deep. “Then I won’t have to figure out how to manage two Doms who live in an entirely different world than I do.” He breathed close to Dallas’ ear. “Come. Now.”

The unexpected command caused Dallas’ balls to jerk, a painful kick forcing his load up his dick so hard and fast, his knees buckled from the shock. Head thrown back, he gasped, getting a mouthful of water he spit out with his shout. Come hit the shower wall in successive spurts, washing down to the drain and swirling out of sight as he fell forward again.

Watching him, Jared tipped over into his own, much more controlled release. His composure gave Dallas the odd impression he might break out a linen napkin and table service to add the right ambiance to the show.

“Good boy.” Rhodey withdrew, only his slackening cock showing he’d found his release as well. He moved over, rinsing off under the shower. “I’m impressed you got up without waking me. Do it again and we’ll keep having this kind of fun. I don’t think I’ll ever get enough.”

When Dallas opened his eyes to respond, Jared had already disappeared, leaving him alone with Rhodey. “I’d like that.” Shutting off his spray, he stepped out from under the rain shower head’s drip-drip to grab both himself and Rhodey thick, white bath towels from the rolled stacks on the teak wood bench outside the shower bay. “And I love you, too.”

“I love you and I love hearing that, my man.” Rhodey rubbed a towel over his hair, air drying before pulling his black jeans back on. “Go put our boy through his paces. Shea will…learn to adapt. So will Jacks.”

“They will. It takes time.” Dallas grabbed his sweats from his locker, his gaze going automatically to Lawson’s number two spot. 

The top three had brass plates, engraved with their names. Then Noah’s number one spot. He’d have to get through one of the men he loved most to get the chance to even challenge Noah, unless the reigning undefeated champion challenged him first. Since he’d never challenge Law, it looked like no one was going to get to Noah anytime soon. The Core’s trio had a near impenetrable wall of fighters around those men. Something Dallas never wanted to see change, even if it meant he’d always be ranked number six.

“True. And I’m willing to give them that.” Rhodey sighed as he paused with his hand on the door. “I scared him again. I didn’t mean to do that.”

Tearing his gaze away from Lawson’s nametag, Dallas realized he’d been running his fingers past his throat and dropped his hand as he met Rhodey’s eyes. “No, but better you than something real. You’re his soft space and his training ground in one. He needs that. We all do.”

Rhodey gave him an amused look. “Soft? Is that what people are saying about me now? I’ll need to work on that. I’m not soft. I asked Jared to step in because I know I can’t be. I need you and Keiran…even Avery now that he’s getting better at it. You can give him soft. I’ll be what I need to be.”

Matching soft gray T-shirt on, Dallas stepped up to Rhodey, their gazes more level than some but not quite near the same height. “All due respect? Anyone who knows and loves you sees you’ve got all the right soft spots guarded by all the right hard ones. We have to earn access in the right measures, but it’s there. I enjoy visiting your Brigadoon, but I know I can’t live there all the time.”

Hand cupping the back of Dallas’ head, Rhodey drew him in for a gentle kiss. “Because it’s you, I’ll allow that. But I don’t know how to deal with these small issues. I hate it when Danny’s upset, but he can get that way if there’s thunder. And I can’t blame Jacks and Shea. But I want someone to handle it. I want to fix this. And I don’t know if anyone can. It’s also something I like about the boy. His…ability to look at those little things I ignore. So…I’m not sure anyone should change a damn thing. If Stephan ever got me to his fucking cell, he’d have a field day with that.”

Taking a chance, Dallas stole another soft kiss, giving some of that tender energy back to Rhodey. “Lover, you just discovered the most powerful weapon we’ve got in this place. It’s called family. We all lean on each other for our strengths and we accept that we can’t be all things to all people.” He eased back, searching Rhodey’s clear gray eyes. “We offer the best of what we have and allow others to shine and make up the difference.”

“Yes and that’s why I asked Jared to deal out the tenderness I can’t give.” Rhodey stroked his knuckles down Dallas’ cheek. “When he can’t? I need you to do it. You and Keiran, you’re holding on to me and Avery’s souls. Because we had to check them in a long time ago.” His dark gray eyes leveled with Dallas’. “Tell me you can.”

“I can and I will. It would be zero hardship. I love the little basket case.” Said with all affection and tenderness, Dallas’ response came with a wink. “He only says on the outside what most of us think. Except with a little more...embellishment.”

Rhodey huffed out a laugh as he finished getting dressed. “That sounds about right. It’s on a frequency I’ve ignored for a long time, so maybe that’s why I can’t see it. But it helps that you do. I want him to stay there. You know that. It’s why I don’t train him like the rest of you. I know you can survive. He’s the first person I’ve allowed myself to get close to who I know can’t.”

What Rhodey perhaps hadn’t been able to see because he’d lived his life among people who either projected a certain kind of exterior or they didn’t make it out alive, was that there were different kinds of coping mechanisms that allowed the norms to survive and thrive. Even, unexpectedly, in his world. “We’ll see about that ‘can’t’. In the meantime, yes. I’m here and so is Keiran. We’ve got him. You can relax your mind there, at least.”

“Thank you, my man.” Rhodey waited for him by the door to the locker room, his easy smile telling Dallas he’d decided the matter was settled, like a mission where they all had to come together to work out the details. Now all that was left was to execute them. “As for Jacks and Shea? I don’t think it would be good to let them collar our boys. Maybe it was cruel to dangle that out there, but I was hoping it would be effective. My nephew outmaneuvered me.” His lips thinned. “I hope he doesn’t regret that.”

“Regret Matt?” Falling into step with Rhodey, Dallas decided he must’ve needed either a few more cups of coffee or more sleep, because he was having a hard time following conversations this morning. “I didn’t realize he tagged him...” His eyes widened with surprise. “You don’t mean he collared Curtis?”

Rhodey gave him a sideways look, as though waiting for him to catch up. Which meant he had no intention of helping him do it.

Shit out of luck, Dallas shrugged a little and decided on more coffee as the best course of action. Spotting Danny, he motioned him over, lifting him off his feet when he arrived. He sniffed the side of his neck, inhaling deep. “You always smell like sunshine, sunshine.”

Wiggling a bit with his giggle, Danny wrapped his arms around the back of Dallas’ neck. “Jared said Shea’s okay. Thanks for not hurting him, sir, even though I know that happens in fights. He’s going to be grumpy for a bit, but that’s okay. Keiran’s making the cinnamon rolls he likes so that’ll help.”

At the mention of his boy’s cinnamon rolls, Dallas’ stomach rumbled. “That sounds heavenly. Get us some coffee and cinnamon rolls, then meet me back here and I’ll show you a few tricks for taking down someone my size.” He glanced sideways at Rhodey. “And even his.”

That had Danny’s eyes going wide, like Dallas had just told him Godzilla existed and might stomp up to the front door any minute. He shook his head, small palms pressed to Dallas’ cheek. “You’re really funny, sir. I’ll try, but that’s impossible.” He leaned in, speaking in a whisper. “Matt double checked to make sure I did the laundry right. Let me know if you hear it ding? I’ll be right back with breakfast and stuff.”

“This one buzzes, but I’ll let’cha know, sport.” Giving Danny’s ass a pat, he sent the sub on his way toward the gym doors. How strange must it’ve been to have every need taken care of, but be expected to work so hard at the same time. Musing, he spoke his thoughts aloud to Rhodey. “At least when I had a nanny, I didn’t have to do anything to earn it.”

Rhodey grunted, setting his hands on the top rope of the ring and stretching out his back, his thick muscles straining against his black T-shirt. “I can’t even wrap my mind around that kind of lifestyle. At least I always had plenty of other kids around. Only had to stab a couple with a fork before they stopped trying to snatch food off my plate. The weaker kids aren’t so lucky.” His lips twitched. “Jared wasn’t always so big, but he had me, so it didn’t matter.”

Picturing a pint sized Jared, exactly as he looked now only small, made Dallas chuckle as he settled on the ring steps to better appreciate the view. His body still tingled in all the right places from Rhodey’s attentions. “If you meant Noah’s boy and Connor, I have to tell you I think it’s a blessing. Because that boy doesn’t fit anywhere but L.A. Maybe not even there anymore. I don’t know him much, but if you want to talk about not being able to wrap your mind around something, there it is. Right there. Him being here at all.”

 “Meh, he does all right. I’m just hoping Noah doesn’t end up agreeing with you on that while the bodyguard is gone.” Rhodey straightened, throwing a few jabs in the air, light on his feet despite his size as he did some warming up footwork. “I thought I had the situation figured out, then the lot of them go and switch things up. I should do like Lawson and have every damn member of the Core put things in writing so I can approve changes.”

Leaning back, elbows on the top step, Dallas chuckled again. “You know, I can actually see it. Not that you wouldn’t have a riot on your hands, but I’ve seen you handle worse...” He grew serious. “You think he regrets it? Marrying him? He and Jared seem much better suited. Or Wren, even. I tried once to figure out what happened and why but it made my head hurt.” He rolled his head, working out stiff muscles. “You could always just do what you were planning whenever the ‘trained SEAL’ isn’t here.”

Rhodey’s brow lifted as he crossed the ring, resting his forearms on the ropes and gazing down at Dallas. “What do you mean?”

“Which part?” Dallas frowned at him upside down. Which didn’t make Rhodey look any less intimidating. Not that he’d ever found him to be, but he knew others saw him that way.

“I’m not going to comment on my nephew’s marriage. No one asked my opinion. Because they’re idiots.” Rhodey shrugged. “I’m talking about the last part. You’re suggesting I go back to beating his ass to make him feel better? Not sure that did a damn bit of good.”

Dallas let out a long sigh that ended in a groan as he pushed to his feet. “I think he’s too independent for his own good. He has no idea what not thinking for himself is, in my limited experience.” He stepped over the ropes, entering the ring with Rhodey and took his stance in the middle of the ring. “Which is what everyone’s fighting against. Him doing exactly what he wants because it’s the way it’s always been.”

With a noncommittal grunt, the sound Rhodey often made when he didn’t agree, but didn’t care to discuss it, Rhodey swung out his fist, ending with a light slap to Dallas’ cheek, rather than a punch. He grinned, bouncing out of reach. “Our little mouse was independent, living on his own in the big city, and doesn’t know how to wash delicates. I’ll have to have a chat with Jacks. He definitely needs to beat him a little until he gets it right.”

“That’s not what I was—” Dallas managed to duck the next slap, getting into the dance with Rhodey. “Saying.” He let out a warm chuckle, loving the physical interplay of a different sort. “He was, like, the bigshot, right?” Throwing a punch Rhodey deflected with another slap—this one to Dallas’ fist—he fought to keep in the middle of the ring and not get cornered. “Our little mouse defers. That one doesn’t. Definitely the cat. Whole personality.”

Rhodey blew out a breath, sweeping Dallas’ feet out from under him, giving a nod of approval when he did a smooth flip on the way down, regaining his position rather than landing on his back. “You’re trying to see him through the lens of your experiences. He was a kid, then a young man, surrounded by handlers, managers, assistants. He had different responsibilities, a whole different way of interacting with people. Not an easy life, either of them, but Danny had a chance to adapt to something a bit more normal before he came here. Jamie didn’t. So…” He lifted his shoulders, circling Dallas. “It shows. The SEAL is a good middle ground for him, but I can’t spare the man right now. The boy will have to manage until he gets back. All our boys have had to do without us at some point. Like you said, he still has Jared and Noah.”

At some point they’d stopped moving, talking instead. Taking advantage of the lull, Dallas didn’t give himself away as he held Rhodey’s gaze and swiped his feet out from under him.

Which earned him a solid kick to the side as Rhodey righted himself. “Multitask, my man. And watch your breathing. Noah was right, you’re noisy.”

Shaking his head, Dallas absorbed the impact, grinning. “You’re just mad ‘cause I touched you at all.” He dared to tease, knowing Rhodey would see the statement for what it was. A chance to poke fun when there was no danger lurking, to test defenses and learn new ways around them. “You asking me to look after the other one, too? I’d have to get to know him better. Seems like, from what you said, I’ve got him all wrong.”

“No. I’ll deal with him when it’s necessary. Jared asked me, I won’t pass that off to you, tempting as it might be. You might do a better job.” Rhodey grabbed the front of Dallas’ shirt, jerking him in for a rough kiss. “I like seeing you have fun with the boys I let you take charge of. Light and sweet before I take control of you.”

The switch in Dallas flipped, turning on his submission and making him want to sink to his knees to worship Rhodey’s dick right there. Head swimming with lust, he might’ve sagged a bit, breaths puffing fast from between his lips. He quieted them, taking smaller sips of air. “You’re a fucking sexy beast, you know that?”

“Yes.” Rhodey chuckled, kissing him again. “And as much as I’d like to spend the day fucking you, we should probably go eat and see what the day has in store for us. I’m hoping things aren’t thrown off balance by the bodyguard leaving, but stay alert, just in case.”

Licking the taste of Rhodey from his lips, Dallas nodded. “Danny should’ve been back in here by now. We’ll go ferret him out of his hole. You look like you could use a good cuddle. If you feed him his breakfast, he might actually eat it.”

Rhodey’s brow furrowed as he nodded, curving his hand around the side of Dallas’ neck. “That’s a good idea. I just fucking want to see that man happy. My nephew. He’ll push himself to an early fucking grave trying to find that for everyone but himself.”

“Pot meet kettle?” Dallas rubbed his nose against Rhodey’s, tipping their foreheads together. “We’ll find a way to make sure he gets that. Jared will too.”

Stroking up the length of Dallas’ throat with his thumb, Rhodey let out a quiet sound of agreement. “If Jared wasn’t there, I’d be getting a lot more involved.” He inched back, meeting Dallas’ eyes. “But there’s a big difference between me and my nephew. I never doubt where I stand with you. Any of you. And you make me very fucking happy.”

Hearing Rhodey say that couldn’t have been any greater gift than if it’d been bestowed on Dallas’ birthday. Being able to give something, even in any small way, to the man who’d helped him ultimately settle into his own place at The Asylum, with the family he’d always wanted? Some days, seemed too much good to be true. He never questioned it because he trusted Rhodey’s judgment implicitly.

That was a freedom the man gave him. It was only fitting he got that in return.

“I’m glad to hear that. Because you deserve all that and more. Every fucking thing I can give you, down to the blood in my veins.” Dallas extended his forearm. “You never have to ask.”

Rhodey pressed his arm down, shaking his head. “You keep that blood. I need you strong enough to stand on your own. Or kneel when it pleases me. At my side or at my feet. Always.”

There wasn’t much better than that. Even if Dallas had a million years to think about it, he couldn’t ask for anything more. He was complete with Rhodey, Keiran, Avery...now Danny. He had better than a home and love and friendship. 

He had ‘always’.

And come hell or high water?

I’ll never let go.

“Let’s get breakfast.” Letting the moment speak for itself, Dallas threw Rhodey a warm, slanted smile. “Sir.”

Flinging an arm over Dallas’ shoulders, Rhodey walked with him to the edge of the ring. At the last minute, he hauled Dallas up, vaulting over the rope. The landing was silent, smooth, but an irritated sound left Rhodey as he lowered Dallas to his feet. “Need to work on that one. I almost dropped you.”

“Clearly you either need to start carrying me around like Danny, or I need to start eating like him.” Dallas smoothed the flat of his hand down his midsection, which somehow remained flat despite his boy’s delicious cooking. “I hear there’s also a few places in the South Pacific where the natives have to subsist on coconuts and fish.”

The smack Rhodey landed on his ass sent a loud snap! echoing through the gym. “Don’t you dare. And I’m not carrying your ass around all the time, but we’ll do some training so I know I can in an emergency. Maybe while Avery’s throwing darts at us.”

A bright pink silk unfurled, fluttering to drop in front of Rhodey’s path, Avery not far behind. “Good morning, sirs. I poisoned one of your omelets, as requested. You’ll need to figure out which one.”

“Good boy.” Rhodey swept Avery off his feet, lifting him up to sit on his shoulder as he led the way into the bar. “We’ll both be trying a bite of each, so I hope you and Keiran have the antidotes ready. We’ll see if your reaction time’s improved.”

At his seat at the bar, Lawson spoke without looking up from his ledger, his tone making it clear he was at least on his second cup of coffee. “I had Keiran remake the omelets. Without the poison. Jared is supervising. Please refrain from giving the doctors here more work. Or forcing me to pull in favors to hide more bodies.”

“Good morning, Law.” Pausing beside Lawson’s stool, Dallas automatically gave his cheek a peck, then caught himself. “Oh.” He laughed. “Sorry about that. I’m in a lovey mood today, I guess.”

Lawson glanced over at him, a warm smile curving his lips. “Don’t be sorry.” He chuckled as his gaze shifted to Rhodey. “Especially since it does not seem to please your Dom. I’ll have to add ‘dude’ and ‘sorry’ to the lists of forbidden words in the sub manual.”

“There’s a sub manual?” Going behind the bar, Dallas poured Rhodey his morning coffee and laced it with his favorite whiskey.

“There will be. Besides the Sub 101, I feel like we need some more clarity for the new members, especially since we’re expanding. I’ll be writing it up and presenting it at the next board meeting.” Lawson gave Rhodey a nod of greeting. “I’m only partially joking about the words. I think it’s more than fair for the Core Doms to have a basic set of expectations from any sub within these walls. We’ve earned that level of respect.”

Rhodey pulled out a stool two over from Lawson, likely leaving the ones next to him for Noah and Jared. He settled in and accepted the coffee from Dallas. “Thank you, my man.” He gestured to Lawson with the mug. “And good. It’s about damn time.”

Fixing himself a cup, Dallas gestured with the pot toward Lawson. “Want a top-up?”

“Please.” Lawson slid his coffee cup a bit closer to Dallas, then closed his ledger and turned a bit in his stool to face Rhodey. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you, but I thought it would be a good idea to wait until after the party.”

One brow arched, Rhodey met Lawson’s eyes as he sipped his coffee. “No.”

Pot over Lawson’s cup, Dallas jerked, sending the stuff splashing over the bartop. “Shit. Dammit.” He whirled, putting the carafe on the burner and grabbed for a towel. “I didn’t get it on you, did I?” Mind racing, he tried to figure out if Lawson was about to ask to tag him, and dug ice out of the well into a towel without looking around. “Here. Take this. It’ll help.”

A hand blocked his, Quint shooting him an amused look. “No ice for burns. Turn on the cold water.” He stepped back, motioning Lawson around the bar. “It was just a small splash, but no need to risk it getting worse. Pike, grab some napkins and wipe that up.”

Rhodey picked up Lawson’s ledger to get it away from the spill, nudging the other Dom when he looked ready to protest. “No arguing with the club Docs. You make me get Jared out here and I’m taking you over my fucking knee.”

Expression hardening, Lawson approached the sink, bringing his hand under the running water. “I wasn’t going to argue with him, I’d like to think I’m a reasonable man.” He nodded toward Pike, who’d created a small tower of napkins on the puddle of coffee. “I was going to suggest a bar towel so he didn’t waste those.”

Dallas dumped the ice in the sink, tossing the bar towel to Pike with an apologetic look that he didn’t dare voice out loud. Middle going funny, he glanced between Lawson and Rhodey.

Is that it? Is there not going to be any discussion?

Would Lawson give up on the idea so easily?

Maybe Rhodey just wanted to make sure he really wanted Dallas before he said ‘Yes’? Mind racing, he faced Rhodey with his hands curved around the lip of the back bar behind himself. “No, what?”

“He wants you to wear his tag.” Rhodey gave Dallas a level look. “I figured I’d save him some time and give him my answer right away.”

Lawson shut off the faucet. “You are aware this wouldn’t change your relationship with him, yes? It gives your boy more, my man, but takes nothing from you.”

Gaze running over Lawson’s back, Dallas pressed his fingers more firmly into the edge of the backbar to keep from reaching out to him. For the first time in his relationship with Rhodey, a bubble of a question about what he’d handed over to the man surfaced. 

Trust. 

He reminded himself he trusted Rhodey. This wasn’t some ego trip. His Dom had his reasons for everything, and he’d already sacrificed so much for all of them. There was nothing for the man to prove.

“Law.” Voice hoarse, throat tight, Dallas waited until Lawson looked his way to shake his head. “I trust him.”

Holding up one hand, Rhodey looked from Dallas to Lawson. “That never was, and never will be in question. I will let you spend time with him again, my man. I like the relationship you have. This isn’t me cutting you off. This is me making sure Dallas doesn’t have something from you that might make him hesitate. Even for a fucking split second. There’s a reason my subs will ignore orders from any Dom besides me if it’s necessary. They need to be able to react, on their own, according to their training. If he’s wearing your tag? That could change and I won’t risk it.”

Lawson’s brow creased slightly, but he inclined his head. “I can see how that would be a concern. Would it make a difference if he didn’t wear it when the situation requires that kind of independance?”

“I don’t know.” Rhodey was nothing if not bluntly honest, even when it came to his own limits. He looked to Dallas. “What do you think?”

Surprised at being asked, Dallas blinked, straightening as he considered the question. On watch, a few times a day, he could take it off. It was unlikely that his shifts in the bar would bring him into contact with more than the Core and the members. Out and about? Probably it should come off. On missions, definitely. There were other scenarios he probably hadn’t thought of. 

“I think...” God, Rhodey, I want this, but what I want more is to simply let go and trust you’ve got this. Whatever your decision. Except everyone already put so much shit on the man, it was difficult to tell exactly what the right thing was to say . “You’re very wise Doms and I’d be lucky to have both of you. Not b.s.ing here. I trust you, Rhodey, and I know whatever decision you make will be the right one.”

Rhodey inclined his head, sitting back in his stool and rubbing his chin. His lips curved slightly. “I know you’ll logic me to death if I keep coming up with reasons to say no, Lawson. Which might be entertaining, but we don’t have all day to discuss this.” He lowered his hand. “Fine. But the first fucking time I see it messing with you? It’s off for good. You will remove it yourself as needed. Or I will if I decide it is before you get a chance. No hard fucking feelings. No questions. Are we clear?”

Unable to hide his joy, Dallas let it show in his grin. “Yes, sir. Clear. Thank you.”

He met Lawson’s gaze, letting his gratitude radiate out into the bar. It felt like the sunrise that had just begun to paint the frosted windows in a pearlescent pink glow. Then he shifted his gaze to Rhodey’s, which he held longer, letting him see that he’d follow him into the pits of hell and be grateful for the flames.

“I’m honored for this opportunity, Rhodey. And I won’t question whatever you need to do to keep him safe.” Lawson smiled at Dallas, reaching out to bring his hand to his cheek. “I’ll go see Blain today and pick out something perfect for you.”

“Thank you, sir.” Saying those words to Lawson, especially the last one, felt so right that Dallas wondered why he hadn’t been saying them all along. “I’m the luckiest man in this place.”

Rhodey lifted his mug in cheers. “No one deserves it more.” He glanced over as Danny came out of the galley, lifting him into his lap and staring into his red rimmed, different colored eyes. “What is it, Fievel?”

Instead of answering right away, Danny let out an angry little sound and punched him in the chest. “I won’t get in the way when you do most scary stuff, but poison? I’m very…mad at you. I don’t think I’m speaking to you anymore. I can’t believe you made Avery and Keiran do that.”

“Woah, woah there, little mouse.” Dallas skirted the bar, pulling Danny into his arms and giving him a kiss to his temple. “You have to understand. Here’s controlled and nothing bad happens. We have to learn like that in case other people try to do it to us when we’re not home and safe. So we know what to do.”

Rhodey picked up his coffee again, taking a sip. “That. And also, I’m taking the belt to your ass for that sorry excuse for a punch. If you’re going to come after me, Tiny Tim, make it count.”

“You’re made of rocks, that’s not fair.” Danny deflated a bit in Dallas’ hold. “I still don’t like it. A million things could go wrong. Can’t you just…be really careful about what you eat when you’re not here? Or just never leave? I like that option.”

“As much as I like that option, too, we leave to keep everyone else safe...” Dallas trailed off as Jared stalked from the galley, looking none too impressed with Rhodey, himself.

Jared spared Rhodey a glance, texting something on his mobile and making an aggravated sound as he shot a message back, speaking out loud. “No. You may not go live at Connor’s.”

Groaning, Rhodey covered his face with his hands, speaking into them. “Keiran, make me another omelet. Show me how much you love me and put something special in it, I think I’ll need it to deal with this day. Unconsciousness might be a treat.”

Galley door held open with his hip, Keiran made a sound of sympathy, moving around the bar to set plates in front of everyone. He gave Pike’s ass a light swat. “Don’t lick the bar. Here, apple pie. Much tastier.”

Jamie came tumbling out of the stairwell like he ran from something or someone, his duffel in his arms cushioning his landing.

“Well...it was a quiet morning.” Dallas smirked at Keiran, then mouthed, “He said, yes.”

Eyes brightening with happiness, Keiran laid the last plate, piled high with cinnamon rolls and snickerdoodles beside a non-poisoned omelet in front of Dallas. He jumped up against him, giving him a tight hug. “I’m so glad. I know how much you wanted this, sir. What you have with Lawson is special and you…you deserve all the love. If Rhodey had refused, I’d have shown him my punches land better than Danny’s.” He eased back and brushed his hand over Danny’s hair. “But I’ll work on that with you.”

Distracted by Jamie, Danny rubbed a tissue under his nose, chewing hard on his bottom lip until Rhodey looked up and landed a hard smack on his thigh. He jumped, then ducked his head against Dallas’ chest. “Sor—didn’t mean that, sir. But is…? Jamie, you’re not really leaving, are you?”

Staring at the stairwell door, Jamie seemed to be holding his breath as he waited for something. When nothing happened, he deflated a little and leaned back against the wall between the cigar lounge and stairway. “No. I’m not leaving.”

The door opened, Noah stepping out. Despite Jamie’s mad dash, the Dom looked much calmer than expected. He stopped in front of his boy, giving him a level look. “I need you to listen to me, very carefully. For now, this is your home. I will do everything in my power to make things good for you until…until he comes back. But if you leave, I will follow. I love you and if you need me to chase you across the globe to prove it, I will.”

Tipping his face up, Jamie sniffed as he lost the battle with the tears he’d been holding back. “Promise? You promise you don’t want me to go?” It was hard to understand him, but Dallas managed to read his lips between the gasps. “I know you’d be happier without all my ish, but I wouldn’t be happier without you. I don’t know what to do anymore.”

Noah bent down on one knee and smoothed his hand over Jamie’s hair. “I know this is hard for you, little cat. But before you started packing your bag, I was getting ready to show you the plans I’d had drawn up for our house. On that land I bought you, remember? You’re going to have a third studio. And even bigger one. The view will be amazing.”

“What about you, Noah? What do you want? I love the things you give me, because they’re from you and I get to share them with you, but I want you to have what you want to be happy.” Jamie searched his gaze. “That gets me in the feels. When I see you painting and doing stuff with Wren and Jared, and how you just let go. I want to be part of what helps you let go, but I just make you hold on tighter.”

Drawing Jamie to his chest, Noah held him, speaking softly into his hair. “All I want is you to be happy, my sweet boy. Let me do this for you. You’ll see, it will make things better. A place of our own. The life you’ve dreamed of. I’ll give it all to you if you’ll let me.”

It was difficult to tell what Jamie’s reaction to that grand gesture was because he buried his face in Noah’s chest. If there was one thing Dallas knew when he saw it, however, it was a drowning man taking another man down with him when he was attempting a rescue.

So did Jared, judging by the helpless look on his face that he quickly hid when he saw Dallas glance his way. Anyone who knew Noah, including Jamie, would know The Asylum was his life’s blood. Taking him out of it would make him as miserable as putting Jamie in it had done.

Though, when Dallas thought it over, he realized the place didn’t make Jamie miserable. He seemed to find plenty of joy in the people. It was something about the dynamic with his quad that left him empty. And that emptiness was what Noah desperately tried to fill up out of some misguided notion it would repair something that only a lot of work would fix between the four of them.

Sighing, Dallas met Rhodey’s eyes, then Lawson’s as he lifted his cup to his lips. “Who’s on tonight?”

“Shea is with Keiran, I have Reed and Drew in the galley.” Lawson smiled as Shea came out of the stairwell with Jacks. “Just the men I was hoping to see. I’ve adjusted the schedule so I wanted to update you on where you’ll be—”

“I’ve reconsidered.” Rhodey set down his mug and stood, facing the two younger Doms. “I think you’ll both be good for Avery and Keiran. You bring something different to the table.” His lips slanted. “You still have a shitload to learn, but I might be able to pick up a thing or two from you, so we’ll call it a fair trade.”

If Dallas didn’t know any better he’d have said there was a gasp from somewhere up in the rafters. Jacks just looked confused, like he was Goldilocks and had woken up in the wrong bed.

Also, he wasn’t sure, but...shouldn’t Rhodey ask him if he wanted Keiran to wear someone else’s tag? Not that Dallas would say no if Rhodey thought it was good for him, but…

He frowned, staring into his mug with one arm around Keiran, whispering, “You okay with this, sweets?”

Surprisingly, Keiran breathed out a laugh, kissing Dallas’ cheek before clearing his throat. “I appreciate the offer…or whatever this actually was, but with all due respect, I will decline, sir. I don’t want another tag. But I would like the chance to get closer to Jacks and Shea, so I’m happy that’s an option.”

“That’s an option? Declining?” Dallas spoke out of the corner of his mouth, amusement in his gaze making it clear he wasn’t serious. “You do realize you’ve just been auctioned? I think you won’t be allowed to take off the tag until you bring those two to heel.”

Keiran snickered. “I can do that just fine without the symbolism, sir.” He met Rhodey’s eyes when his other Dom lifted a brow at him. “This is a type of blending of two households, sir, and I love every single member of our family. Including Jacks and Shea. I want to have fun with them. I want to cuddle Danny, get dressed up with Jacks, and tease Shea out of his grumpy moods. They’re bringing something new to the table. But the tags…they mean something more to me, sir. Almost like…” He brought his fingers to his collar, touching Rhodey and Dallas’ tags. “Like being married to you both. And Avery. Only…more.”

“They carry more responsibility.” Especially because they were so easy to take off. 

The weight of a tag was both a gift and a responsibility to ensure the well being of a sub, mentally, physically, emotionally. To him, at least. The submission was a way of returning that gift, but it wasn’t always easy. Trust was out front and center in submission, in a way that, to him, marriage glossed over. You couldn’t submit without it and you couldn’t take care of someone in an effective way without it. When he thought about it, trust was the oil of the entire place, and if he had to put his finger on something that had damaged the Top Floor Quad, as the misfit mafia called them, it was probably that.

No, definitely.

Rhodey huffed, but nodded. “All right. I was trying to be open to something new, but I suppose forcing you on each other was…probably unnecessary.” He held out his arm for Avery to jump down to. “What about you, my little viper?”

“Sir...” Avery landed smoothly in Rhodey’s arms, then straddled his hips. “I don’t have all the pretty words Keiran does. If it pleases you, though? Hell, no. Thank you.”

Chuckling against Avery’s lips, Rhodey nodded. “It pleases me. Very much. You know I expect you both to have your own minds. You can keep being a handful for every member of the Core. And a nightmare to the other Doms around the club. It makes me very fucking proud.”

Focus narrowed momentarily to his own quad, along with the new additions to their close knit group, a sense of rightness settled over Dallas. Along with the same sentiment Rhodey had expressed.

So am I, my man. Very fucking proud.

Of us all.

Chapter Seventy-Eight

There were times an episode of The Bold and the Barroom could be ignored. Today didn’t appear to be one of them. Dallas pulled his attention from his men, widening his focus to the rest of the Core who were present. At some point, Jared had slipped out. Dallas eyed the man as he returned now, Wren in his arms.

Speaking quietly to Noah, Jared handed his co-Dom their boy, then took Jamie’s hand. Then brought him to the cigar lounge and closed the door.

Expression drawn, Noah stood, bringing Wren over to the bar and letting him sit in the stool beside Lawson. He glanced over at Keiran. “Would you mind…when you have a minute? One of those honey pastries for Wren and a chocolate muffin for Jamie?”

“Of course, sir.” Keiran carefully schooled his features, kissing Dallas’ cheek again before slipping away and curving his arm around Danny’s shoulders. “Come, you can supervise this time. Make sure I don’t poison anyone else.”

Curtis entered from the gym, a bundle of two-by-fours over one shoulder, whistling. He kissed Lawson’s cheek, making Dallas duck when he swung the lumber around much too slowly for it not to be deliberate. 

“Mornin’.” He eased back to study Lawson’s face. “Yep. You’ve been booted up.”

Surprisingly, Wren burst out laughing, while everyone else seemed to take a second to figure out what the man was talking about. “Sir, that’s…that’s very accurate.” He sobered as he glanced over his shoulder at Noah, as though remembering there was something else going on, but not sure what. “Sir, maybe you should sit down. You didn’t sleep much last night. I’ll go help Keiran…and keep Danny from reading over the instructions on the fire extinguisher again.”

“Go ahead, my little bird.” Noah helped Wren off the stool, sliding into it and catching Curtis’ eye. “If you’re up to it, I’d be grateful for your help. I need to tear down that old house on Jamie’s property. But only when your schedule allows.”

Curtis’ cheerful grin turned to a softer version of a frown as he turned his attention in Noah’s direction. Taking his stool, he motioned to no one, not realizing there wasn’t anyone behind the bar to get him a coffee. “Sure. I’m free whenever. We can go by today and get an idea of the work. It’s supposed to pour ass rain tomorrow.”

“Sledgehammers. The new therapy.” Pike ducked a playful swat from Quint. “What? It sounds like fun. Can I go, too?”

Taking pity on Curtis, Dallas went to pour his coffee. “I wouldn’t mind helping out, if it’s all the same to you, Noah. We haven’t spent a lot of time together, but I wouldn’t mind a work exchange if you’re up for spending time giving me pointers in the ring?”

“I’d like that very much, thank you, Dallas.” Noah’s expression lightened as he reached over to ruffle Pike’s hair. “But I’m going to have to say no to you, scamp. Just so we don’t stress out your co-sub. Or your cousin. You can go to my art studio and experiment with those new paints if you’d like, though.”

Pike grinned, speaking around a mouthful of apple pie. “That’d be awesome, sir. Thanks!”

Taking his favorite blue handled oddball mug from Dallas’ fingers, Curtis brought it to his lips with an appreciative sigh. Then looked startled when the sound of a belt cracking against flesh came from the cigar lounge. He settled back into his seat, meeting Lawson’s gaze, then took a sip of his coffee. 

“I figure we can probably reuse a lot of that lumber though. We should sort it into a recycle pile.” Swallowing half the contents of the mug like he didn’t quite register the heat, Curtis paused. Then nodded. “They even recycle concrete now, did you know that?”

“I did, but I don’t know how. Do you?” Dallas cracked the cap on an orange juice, handing it to Pike. “Must be something about breaking it back down into something more like sand?”

Noah stood, shaking his head when Lawson put a hand on his arm. “I can’t. Excuse me.” He crossed the bar, stepping into the cigar lounge and closing the door behind him.

Audibly grinding his teeth, Rhodey stood, sitting Avery on the edge of the bar before rounding it and grabbing the bottle of vodka, splashing some into a glass. “Jacks, I want you to make a bat onesie. I’ll put the money in your account. Let me know when you have time.”

Already at his sewing machine—which remained set up at his special table near the windows whenever the club wasn’t open—Jacks smiled in Rhodey’s direction. The way the sunlight haloed his hair, it looked like he was some fashion saint come down from heaven to grace them all with better taste than the T-shirts and leathers or ripped jeans they all favored. 

“I’ve got just the thing. Do you mind if I make the wings part of the arms instead of more incidental to the back? It might not work, but I think if it does it’ll be fun for him to pretend he’s gliding down to you.” The sewing machine whirred, Jacks sending fabric gliding forward and back as he seemed to bind off whatever stitching he’d been doing on a piece of soft red fabric.

Rhodey spoke over the rim of his glass. “So long as it doesn’t restrict his movements, I’m good with that.” He managed a small smile as he looked at Avery. “And that sounds fucking adorable.”

Doing a quick sketch on a piece of nearly translucent paper, Jacks brought it to where Rhodey and Dallas, nearby, could see it. “See the extra material here?” His perfectly manicured nail with its clear polish traced the swath of fabric. “When he lifts his arms he’ll be a bat, or he can wrap them around himself like a cozy blanket.”

“Mhm. You’re making me want one.” Dallas leaned over the bar to look at the drawing upside down.

“Very nice.” Rhodey took a sip of vodka, then placed the glass on the bar. “What do you think, my little viper?”

“I think I’m pretty darned lucky, sir. I love it.” Dark eyes shining with happiness, Avery glanced up from the drawing to meet Rhodey’s gaze. “May I go help Keiran, sir? It sounds like Danny is worried about food poisoning from those frozen berries we picked last summer.”

Rhodey tapped him on the nose. “You know that’s not why he’s worried, my slippery little snake. But we’ll keep the poison training to our loft from now on. That was shortsighted of me.”

“Thank fuck.” Shea went behind the bar to grab himself an orange juice. “I already messed up and started the morning off stressful for him with the… Damn it, the laundry.” He hurried back around the bar, toward the gym. “He left it in the washer.”

“Shoot.” Dallas cringed, remembering his promise to Danny. He started around the bar at the same time as Shea, and ended up knocking the orange juice out of the man’s hand.

Rhodey reached out and caught it, pouring what was left into his glass and stirring it into the vodka with his finger. “Yes, the washing machine. I’ll have a new one delivered for you later today.”

“I can get the laundry, Shea. I promised him I’d let him know when the buzzer went off.” Dallas headed toward the gym. “I got sidetracked.”

Shea nodded, sighing as he turned to face Jacks. “Yeah, so…I meant to fix it. Danny was upset because I hadn’t told you, and he was trying to keep up with the laundry so you wouldn’t be stressed. I might’ve handled that whole thing a bit backwards.”

“Why would I be stressed? Most of my stuff is dry clean only...” Jacks’ eyes widened. “Oh no... You didn’t.”

Cheeks turning crimson, Shea nodded. “Yeah. But he insisted on washing the delicates separate, so I’m not sure if he stuffed in as much as I’ve taught him to or…yeah.”

A meteor had nothing on Jacks for speed as he blew past Dallas through the gym door, leaving nothing but a void in the air he’d burned up in his wake. “Well...then.” 

“Your work is done here, my man.” Grinning like L.D. when he’d caught a mouse in the galley, Curtis mock dusted his fingers on his T-shirt.

Lawson shook his head, breathing out a laugh. “I’d say at least we have nothing to worry about, but…” He rapped his knuckles on the bar. “It’s still early.”

That was the nice thing about The Asylum. Early or late, it was both predictable and unpredictable at the same time. Dallas stepped up to the side of Lawson’s stool, making sure he could see him when he touched his arm.

“Yes, my boy?” Lawson met his eyes, the tension remaining in his expression from the whole situation with Noah easing away. “Are you about to offer to check on your new co-subs? Because if so, I accept.”

“In a manner of speaking.” Dallas’ chest warmed with the attention his Dom shone in his direction. “Would you like some breakfast, sir? Matt had to get to the café to get the beans roasting.” Even now the scent of the dark roast seemed to drift in through the air vents from across the street. “He was up at four with me.”

Lawson shook his head, smiling at him. “No, but thank you. On morning’s he’s up that early, I always head over there to have breakfast with him. But when I’m done, I’ll swing by Blain’s and get your tag. Then we can have lunch together.”

“Yes, sir.” Dallas tipped his head toward the galley. “I’ll get right on that other bit.”

Pointing toward the stairwell, Lawson chuckled. “Unless I missed him on the way down, Reed’s upstairs. I doubt he’s still asleep, but if you’d like to double check, I’d appreciate it.”

“Any...restrictions on how I wake him up, sir?” Dallas didn’t bother to disguise the heat from his voice. 

“No sex.” Curtis was quick to speak up as he apparently caught on. “And are congratulations in order?”

Rhodey clapped Curtis on the shoulder. “Yes. Your man gets the honor of tagging one of my subs. I won’t be tagging you, I don’t need to.” He caught Lawson’s eye. “And yes, I’ll give you a head’s up before I play with him again. I won’t assume anything because of what you and Dallas share.”

Pink was a good color on Curtis as he shifted against the tall stool like he remembered the feel of Rhodey’s leather against his skin. It was a feeling Dallas knew well, and vowed he’d tease Curtis about later. They were co-switches now, after all. Which meant they could get up to levels of mischief neither one of them had likely ever thought up on his own.

Making his way upstairs, Dallas keyed in the override code to the loft Reed shared with his quad. Inside, he looked around at a space he hadn’t been overly familiar with in the past, but knew well enough to anticipate that despite the way it overflowed with Reed’s things and Curtis’ tools, it’d be clean and well organized. The living room window was open, a curtain with embedded suncatcher crystals scattering rainbows across the room. Bram walked back and forth along the sofa back, apparently having taken advantage of the opening to explore.

“Good morning, bird.” Dallas kept a healthy distance between himself and the raven, heading toward the master bedroom. In return, the bird whistled back at him, Bram’s favorite song Don’t Worry, Be Happy more familiar than disturbing now.

A large four poster bed was surrounded by all manner of plushies and throw pillows—some with faces, others with sayings and slogans—that had been shoved off onto the floor to make room for sleeping. Stepping around the pillows, Dallas finally found Reed buried within the covers, only a handful of stiff rainbow colored curls peeking out from under the pillows that were over his head.

Sitting on the edge, he unburied Reed from the mountain of fabric, wondering exactly how many pillows it took to get to the center of this particular Tootsie Pop. “Good morning, sparkle party.”

“G’morning.” Reed opened his eyes a little, wrinkling his nose. “Did I stain the pillowcase? I got up in the middle of the night and had a cool idea, but now I’m thinking…I shoulda stayed in bed.” He lifted his head a bit, the pillow coming with him. “And I think I was supposed to use the Jell-O without the sugar.”

“That’s what that smell is.” Leaning closer, Dallas took a deeper sniff, and came away with lime and maybe raspberry. “Were you trying to be even more edible?” He took a crunchy curl between his thumb and forefinger. “Because I’m not quite certain your plan worked...though the pillows seem to have survived unless they weren’t rainbow colored before.”

Reed shook his head, finally getting the rest of his hair unstuck. “It was light blue. Ugh.” He sat up, poking at his head. “I wanted to see what it’d look like, but I didn’t want anything permanent, you know? This is supposed to wash out pretty easy.”

“Or you can always have Koda lick you clean?” Tracing the sleep line along Reed’s cheek where the pillow had left a mark, Dallas came away with blue sugar on his thumb. He licked it clean, sucking a little at his own flesh. “You’re a walking case of diabetic shock waiting to happen.”

Snickering, Reed picked up the pillow and hit him with it. “Only if you suck on my big head. Which I need to wash so I don’t freak out…everyone. They’ll think I’m having a mental breakdown or something. I gotta wash these sheets, too.” He frowned at a buzzing and began tossing the cushions around. “Is that my phone? I think the bed ate it.”

Lifting his ass, Dallas fished around, coming up with the still unbroken phone—this might be a new record—and handed it to Reed. “Here you go. Want me to throw them in the wash while you shower? My entire morning seems like a big setup for laundry karma.”

“That sounds kinda sucky, man. Naw, I can do it.” Reed took his phone and kissed Dallas’ cheek. “You wanna help with my hair, though, I wouldn’t mind. Jacks would kill me if he saw this.” He frowned at his phone. “What the F? Why is half the sub contingent texting me drama gifs? What happened? Besides laundry?”

When he tried to see the timestamps to gauge exactly which drama they were all in a buzz about, Dallas only ended up getting a twinge in his neck. “How come nobody ever texts me with drama gifs? Is this like I have to choose a Dom or sub side before I get to be part of the cabal?”

Reed wrinkled his nose, tossing his phone back on the bed and starting to strip the sheets. “Naw, they probably figure you’re not interested. Keiran texted me a wrecking ball, if that helps? But if you text people a lot to check in because you’re doing random stuff, they’ll probably text you more.” He bundled the sheets in his arms, dragging it, along with all the pillows and cushions, off the bed. “Last text you sent me was last week. Asking which cheese I wanted. And you meant it for Keiran.”

“Oh. That drama.” Dallas made a face, catching the trailing end of the sheets and snagging a few of the sugar coated pillow cases off the pillows for good measure as he followed Reed to the laundry room. “Connor got pulled to long term duty in the Middle East, and I think Noah and Jamie got into a fight. Then Jared took the belt to Jamie. Noah’s gotten in the middle. We’ll see if it ends up with Noah or Jamie asking for the rights to that Mylie Cyrus song.”

Reed’s eyes went huge. “I mean, I knew Connor leaving was gonna be rough, but…damn.” He dropped the sheets on the floor, patting his pajama pants at another ding. “I swear, that thing hates me. It’s always trying to escape.”

This time, Dallas plucked the phone out of the laundry pile. “Here you go.”

“Good save. Bastard was about to get a bath.” Reed checked the next few messages and spit out a laugh. “Like, all the subs are hiding in the galley now. Except Matt, who’s at the café with Lawson. Uh oh, he’s grumbling about Rhodey. Gonna have to smooth that over.” He held up a hand to give Dallas a high five. “Way to go, my dude. About time you join the sparkle side.”

“Aw. I wanted to tell you.” Piling the laundry in the washer, Dallas followed with a cup of laundry detergent. Then a little more, because it was extra dirty and the washers up here seemed a little bigger than theirs. “Is this the kind of thing bleach goes into?”

Reed tilted his head to one side. “Not usually? I’ll see if it comes out with a regular wash. If not, I’ll call Tracey, she’ll know the magic fix.” He hooked his arm to Dallas, tugging him back toward the master bedroom. “Matt didn’t really tell me, he’s saying he’s not gonna be Rhodey’s sub. I don’t think either of us will because, well, that’d be weird for me and Matt’s good with Lawson and Curtis.”

“Tracey knows a magic fix for...” At first he thought they might be speaking about Noah and Jamie again, because conversations among the sub contingent tended to bounce around like a ping pong ball in Tornado Alley. “Oh, you mean the laundry. But why did Matt think he was going to be Rhodey’s sub? Nobody’s going to be added to the collection I know of. He and I already talked about that.”

In the bedroom, Reed stopped and listened. “Did I forget to turn the laundry machine on? Meh, I’ll check after.” He continued into the bathroom. “I think he figures it’s like, automatic? He’s not the only one. Wren still can’t seem to remember if he’s Curtis’ sub or not. But that’s not an issue, because he loves and respects him either way, you know? With Rhodey…” Tugging at his bottom lip with his teeth, Reed seemed to consider the situation. “Lawson runs our household, but he’s got a really good balance with Curtis. If Rhodey stepped in, he’d be in charge and I think that kinda freaks Matt out.”

“I promise you, your uncle isn’t going to be trying to Dom you anytime in this lifetime.” Dallas’ lips thinned as he thought about how unfair Matt’s assessment of Rhodey was. “Do you think he kept all of us safe by doing things that would upset the dynamics around here? Give him some credit for having managed to live this long in his profession.”

Reed held up his hands. “I don’t have an issue with Rhodey. I’m explaining why Matt wouldn’t like the idea. Our quad is pretty solid now. It’s…sometimes you see how things can go so out of whack for others and you just want to make sure the same doesn’t happen to your own family, you know? You can’t blame Matt for that. He was on his own for a long time because his dad was an asshole and then Matt ended up having to bust his ass raising his brother. This is the first bit of stability he’s ever had.”

“Do you...think I should turn down Lawson’s tag?” The idea kicked Dallas in the gut, but he loved Reed and Lawson, Curtis, too, enough that he didn’t want anything to come between them and their happiness. 

Shaking his head, Reed stepped close and placed his hands on Dallas’ chest. “No. Matt won’t have an issue with Lawson being your Dom, they’ve talked about it. And Lawson’s told him he won’t ever have another Dom unless he wants one. Rhodey’s…powerful. That makes Matt nervous, that’s all. Once he sees this is just something special you’re sharing with Lawson and not inviting a different kinda power exchange into our center, he’ll chill.”

“I hope so, because I might not be as bad off as Law, but I can’t live without his coffee.” Dallas shared a wry grin with Reed. “I think he secretly hooked us all to get all the power in the place. We don’t know it yet, but he’ll have us all on our knees crying for caffeine if we so much as look at him wrong.”

Reed’s eyes sparkled with laughter. “You’re damn right. But don’t tell anyone else or you’ll spoil his plans. My other other co-subs don’t know he’s an evil genius yet. Shoulda known you’d figure it out.”

“Takes one to know one.” Reaching past Reed, Dallas flicked on the master bath light. “Go get clean so you can join everyone in the galley and Keiran can throw you all out so I can have some alone time with my boy.”

Snapping his fingers, Reed went into the bathroom and turned on the tub faucets, speaking loud to be heard over the water. “Right, my hair. You were gonna help me with my latest disaster. Because you love me and don’t want to see me beaten with a…something to do with sewing.” He knelt beside the bath. “I shoulda just asked Jacks for a wig to try on.”

“You just want us both beaten. I’ve never dyed hair in my life.” Dallas took a seat on the closed toilet lid, wondering if water were in fact today’s theme. Between showers, laundry, and coffee...liquid maybe. “How about you wear your cute Unicorns are Real cap and sneak past Jacks sewing in the bar. He never sees anything when he’s in the zone.”

Coming up from where he’d held his head under the running water, Reed wiped the multicolored stream away from his eyes with a white towel he’d grabbed from the floor. “Not sure any of this is gonna stick, but if it does? Yeah, a hat is a damn good idea. Mind sudsing me up?” He adjusted his position and pressed his hand to his side. “Oww. My body is gonna punish me for being a dumbass now.”

“What’s wrong?” Thinking through disasters in the field was easier than seeing the sub he’d been friends with longest, and a man he cared about, in pain. Stepping under the spray fully clothed, Dallas gently pulled Reed into his arms. “What do you need? Do you want me to get Lawson? Jared?” An electric shock zapped his ass through his sweatpants and he grimaced. “Maybe from your phone? Mine’s toast.”

Reed shook his head, taking a deep breath. “No, it’s okay. Just twinges sometimes when I’m not careful. Quint said it might for a few more months. Anything longer and I’ll have to get checked out, but…yeah, it’s all good.” He gave Dallas a crooked grin. “I just need to get this shit out of my hair. And go down and show everyone everything’s cool.”

“Since I’m already wet, let me do it.” Spinning Reed to face the wall, Dallas took a handful of soap from the pump bottle labeled Unicorn Mane and Fairytale. It came out in a rainbow slicked glob of white. “I know why I’ve got all my clothes on, why do you?”

Looking at him over his shoulder, Reed chewed on the edge of his bottom lip. “I’m still…just a bit weird about stuff. And, like, you and me…we’ve had some good times. I want to again, but I…can’t.”

“That makes a lot of sense.” Dallas pressed his fingers into Reed’s curls, lathering them up in massaging motions. “I already got told hands off the goods by your Dom, so you wouldn’t need to worry. You and me though, we’re good, sparkles. We’ll giddyap together again. When you’re ready and not a moment before.”

Closing his eyes, Reed nodded, leaning back into his touch. “I’d really like that. And now that we’re co-subs, we’ll get sneaking around rights, which is fun. For now, this is…nice. I still enjoy affection and all. Just…yeah. Jared’s working on stuff with me.”

The suds turned iridescent in Reed’s hair, sending little bubbles of color floating out of the open shower and around the room that smelled of cotton candy. “I don’t know him too well. By working on...you don’t mean with a belt? Your condition is probably not there yet. For you to be able to do that stuff.”

“Only if I earn it.” Reed looked at him again, blinking fast as the suds got near his eyes. “He’s helping me get comfortable with stuff again. Figure out how to, you know, communicate what I’m good with better to Curtis and Lawson. I made it tough on them not always being as… Ugh, I hate to say it, but honest I guess. I try to be, and I don’t flat out lie, but what you’re not saying can be just as bad.”

Taking a clean pink and white bubble-gum striped washcloth from a stack on a teak bench outside the shower, Dallas passed it over Reed’s forehead to remove the suds. “Tip your head back under the spray, sweetheart.” He smoothed Reed’s cascade of Curls back from his forehead and began the rinsing process with careful motions so he didn’t tangle and tug the sub’s hair. “We’re all guarded until we figure things out. Sometimes all you have to say is that you don’t know what you’re feeling and someone’ll help you figure it out. That way you don’t have to go all in on your first breath, you know?”

Reed smiled up at him. “Yeah, that makes a lot of sense. I always used to like rushing in, but I ended up crashing and burning a whole lot. Not having a choice but to slow down? It’s kinda helped me be smarter about things. I don’t have a choice about asking for help when I need it.”

“Like washing your hair?” Keeping his own head out of the spray, Dallas made sure not to drip in Reed’s eyes as he applied some kind of conditioner that smelled like grape.

That got Reed laughing and blowing some of the water from his lips. “Yeah, but only when I’ve turned my hair into some weird rainbow sculpture.” He rolled his eyes upward, like he was trying to get a look at his head. “Can you tell how bad the damage is? I’m not visiting Tracey’s until it’s all out. She loves my hair. I mean, she’d be okay with me wanting to change it, but not screwing it up doing something ridiculous.”

“It’s hard to tell with it still wet, but it looks like maybe you’ve got strawberry blond highlights?” Like possibly literal strawberry, depending on the flavor Reed had used. “It’s nice. Just probably not what you were going for if you’d expected blue.”

Reed made a face. “Blue, orange, yellow, purple. I did clean it all up, though. If Matt had woken up to that mess? It definitely wouldn’t have started his day off all that great. But I’m gonna have to put Jell-O on the shopping list.”

Knowing how the sandy haired sub could lose his cool when provoked, Dallas imagined it would’ve been a bit of a fireworks show. “Probably best to leave it off for a while in case you get an idea to try again.” Finished rinsing out the conditioner, Dallas turned off the spray and grabbed a bath sheet to begin squeezing the water out of Reed’s thick hair. He glanced down at the multicolored splatters around the white shower floor, the predominant red standing out a bit too much. “Also, your drain looks like mass murder. And I should know.”

“Shoot.” Reed looked around, using his tongue to move the piercing in his bottom lip back and forth. “I’m gonna see if Wren minds coming up and taking care of it. Lawson don’t let me do chores that take a lot of scrubbing.” He patted Dallas’ chest. “And no, you can’t do it. You’ve already done enough. I really appreciate it, hot stuff.”

“Don’t point that flirt my way, not until you’re ready to make good on the threat.” Dallas winked, letting Reed know he was joking. “I might need to borrow some of Curtis’ clothes so I don’t go down there looking like we tried to tie dye my workout sweats though.”

 Giving him a firm nod, Reed took his hand, leading him out of the shower and leaving a wet path of footprints behind. “I’ll grab you some stuff. Curtis won’t mind.” He went to the closet, opening it and taking out a few pairs of jeans. “Oh, that’s where they went.” He picked up the dreaded bucket of marbles. “I was supposed to put this in the game room. Whoops. If Curtis had knocked it over while grabbing his stuff?” He shuddered. “That would not have ended well.”

“That thing needs a lid.” Or a bullet... Dallas took the bucket, then carefully took the cursed thing to the game room and very very carefully put it down in a nest of plushies to hold it up. “Stay.” He backed out of the room and closed the door. “Thank fuck.”

Reed called out from the bedroom. “You’re just saving my ass from everything today, bestie. Oh! My rubber duck. Why does rando me decide Curtis’ closet is where all the things need to be? Damn it, what was I looking for? Shirt. Right. T-shirt or something else?”

“T-shirt.” Dallas re-entered the bedroom to find Reed’s pajama clad ass sticking out of the closet. “Curtis got any sweats the same color as mine? That way nobody needs to know.”

Straightening, Reed draped the jeans over the top of the closet door, going back in, the space starting to look like it’d been hit by a small tornado. He came out with a pile of different colored sweats. And a unicorn plushie. “Any of these work?”

“It’d probably look weird if I came downstairs with a plushie, but I’m game.” Plucking up the unicorn, Dallas threw Reed a conspiratorial grin. “We should see if we can get Pike to change his safeword to ‘Reed’.”

Reed snickered, shaking his head. “Then I’d think I’ve gotta save him every time he gets himself neck deep in trouble and even I can’t work that kinda miracle.” He tossed the jogging pants on the bed, then pulled out a few neatly hung T-shirts. “Here. You should be set. I’m gonna wear my unicorn onesie. With the head up, no one will see my hair and I’ll look fabulous.”

“Wicked smart.” Shooting him with a finger gun, Dallas set about shucking his own clothes and exchanging them for Curtis’. He held up his multicolored sweats. “He’ll believe that you ruined these somehow, right? Won’t ever know we traded clothes?”

Over at the other side of the room, in another closet, Reed poked his head out. “Probably. I’ll try to wash those, too, though. I told him I’d be more careful after the last time I got purple glitter nail polish all over his favorite Henley. But I was feeling all sentimental and wearing his clothes is all nice feeling. They’ll fit you better, though. You’re close to the same size.” He pulled out three different onesies and brought them to the bed. “Penguin, panda… This isn’t my unicorn onesie…I think it might be an ice cream cone. Where the hell did I put it?”

“Did you loan it to Pike?” Taking a stab in the dark, Dallas stepped into the clean sweats.

Reed perked up. “Yeah, I think I did. I should sneak over there and get it. And my slippers. My stuff is a bit big on him, but it’s kinda cute. And he’s always spilling something on himself. Can’t really say too much about him being messy because, well, you know me.” He wrinkled his nose as though seeing the room for the first time. “How does this even happen? Five minutes in here and now I’m gonna be stuck here all day cleaning.”

Phone in hand, he shot off a quick text.

And looked immediately relieved at the reply. “Wren’s coming up. He makes cleaning look easy and he says… Ugh, him having to get text through other people’s phone is tricky. Pike says I gotta share my candy for a week. I’ll have him go get my onesie and my slippers. But anyway, Wren’s on his way.”

“We can get you a PopTart while we wait for him.” Dallas figured the sub couldn’t possibly mess up the kitchen with that. “Wren’s a good guy. Why is Pike making you do mob rat style payouts?” If the world of Doms was politically complicated shit, being a sub was next level. “It’s not like he’s the one doing the cleaning.” He shuddered. “Perish the thought.”

Coming up to his side, Reed gasped as he laughed so hard, it took him a minute to speak. “Pike’s…Pike. It’s harmless. Him cleaning wouldn’t be.” He grinned at Dallas as they stepped into the hall. “And Wren’s great. Him and Matt do chores around here together sometimes. The stuff I suck at, like organizing or figuring out how to crawl out of my own disaster. Or sorting out what needs to be folded and what needs to be hung up. But Wren I call when I don’t want Matt coming home from work to it, you know?”

“So...let me get this straight?” Pausing in the kitchen doorway, Dallas held up a finger. “He’s bribing you to not let him clean for you? Doesn’t he have a problem even folding socks?”

Reed shook his head. “No, the payment’s for delivering the message I think. I’d usually text Keiran, but if everyone’s in there I didn’t want to distract him more while he’s cooking. Besides, when he comes to give me a hand he either gets distracted admiring Lawson’s suits or going on a baking spree.”

“Keiran likes Lawson’s suits?” Feeling like he’d woken up on Mars, Dallas opened the cupboard where he remembered all the breakfast cereal being kept and lifted the unopened box of blueberry frosted PopTarts. “This one good?”

Nodding, Reed tried to scoot his ass on the table, wincing before he lowered to sit on the floor instead. “Keiran’s really into suits. And lacy things. You’re double-tagged now, I can share some subbie secrets.”

If he should’ve been buying his boy lacy underwear and high end suits all this time and hadn’t been, maybe it was a good thing he was experimenting more with his sub side lately. Seemed like that’s where all the information, action, and fun came from. Popping the tarts into the toaster oven, Dallas set the timer. It’s tick-tick tick-tick and warm glow cozied up the kitchen.

“Reed, why are you on the floor? Do I need to get Jared? You’re...” He stopped himself, holding out his hand. “Gimme your phone.”

Reed’s eyes went wide. “No, I’m okay. Just don’t like chairs. And there’s no special steps to get on the table. Don’t call him, he’s dealing with enough. Please.”

“But you always get on the table...don’t you?” Dallas tried to remember if Reed had been especially table averse lately. “You get on the desk in class. Are you in more pain today than normal? And any bullshit Jared is in the middle of is of his own making.”

Letting out a long sigh, Reed slumped back against the table leg. “Yeah, it’s pretty sore today. I can deal. I’m just gonna chill a bit, have a PopTart, and get in my onesie. Then we can all have a good day.”

The front door opened, no one coming in at first, Wren’s voice traveling. “Don’t run. I promised Quint I wouldn’t let you get hurt, but I’m not entirely sure how that’s possible. Maybe I can ask Noah to order one of those walking ball things. It might be too big to get up the stairs though. Come right back here when you get Reed’s items. Do not eat anything out of my presence. Also…” Door shutting, Wren came toward the kitchen, huffing out a breath. “I wasn’t finished with my instructions.” He looked up at Dallas and smiled. “Hello, sir.”

“Good morning, again. Would you like a blueberry frosted PopTart?” Dallas pointed at the box, reading from the carton. “It’s got vitamins.”

Wren wrinkled his nose. “No, thank you, sir. Those are disgustingly sweet.” He glanced at Dallas’ wrist. “I apologize. Did I congratulate you yet, Dallas? If not, I’m really happy for you. You and Lawson are good together.” A shadow of sadness passed through his eyes. “It’s nice when people can find that connection.”

Though he wondered if more drama had led to the emoji storm on Reed’s phone, Dallas kept his nosy questions to himself. “Thank you. It is. Like you and your Doms.” He pointed to Reed, directing his question at Wren. “Do I need to worry about him? Maybe get Quint up here to look at him? He’s in pain today and won’t sit on the table. I had to wash his hair for him.”

Wetting his bottom lip with his tongue, Wren seemed to think it over. “If there’s no swelling he should be fine with just some pain medication. Quint gave him some for when he’s sore. I can check that myself—he’s gone to the Clinic and I don’t want to have to call him back. Jared’s with Jamie and Noah…Seth might be on watch. Do you think it would be appropriate for me to make the call? All three of them have given me a good level of instruction.”

“Uh...” The toaster dinged, saving Dallas from needing to answer right away. Plate and PopTarts put together, in the correct configuration, he started to hand Reed his breakfast then drew back. “If it’s appendicitis or something maybe you shouldn’t eat. We’re all gonna get our asses beat if you’re sick and we don’t call one of the docs. This isn’t like a cut or a bump. You had major surgery. I think it should be one of them.” Making his decision, he put the plate on the counter and scooped Reed up in his arms. “Come on trouble. Let’s go get nosy.”

Reed looped one arm around his neck and tipped his head all the way back to look at Wren. “Thank you for coming up. I owe you a ton. And if I need to get dissected, I’ll make sure you can stick your fingers in all my juicy bits.”

Already down the hall, Wren let out a soft laugh. Then a sigh. “Reed, what in the world did you do to the bathroom? It looks like you and Curtis—or maybe you and Dallas were using paint guns. May I suggest going somewhere meant for that next time?”

“It’s Kool-Aid...no, Jell-O!” Dallas called through the partially open front door, then let it shut as he met Reed’s gaze. “What? He might need to know what kind of dye it is so he can get it out.”

That got him a nose wrinkle, though Reed’s dimples were showing as his eyes danced. “True, but he’s still gonna wonder what the hell I was doing. Maybe this’ll make it more interesting for him. He’s been reading a lot of mystery books lately. And for once I was able to lend him a book. Sherlock Holmes. I got ‘em when I was younger—had trouble getting into them. But I like the covers.”

 A thump sounded as Pike tripped down the steps, landing on his butt at Dallas’ feet. He held up Reed’s onesie and his slippers. “You didn’t see that. Padded butt, so it’s like it didn’t happen.”

“C’mon. I can only carry one of you at a time. But if you follow me I’ll at least know if I need to report a casualty.” Headed down the stairs, Dallas made sure to keep Pike with him in case he fell. He’d only be able to fall as far as Dallas’ legs. “Are the terrible twosome still in the cigar lounge?”

Pike made an affirmative sound behind him. “Everyone else mostly cleared out. Keiran’s making more pies, though. He said I can taste the filling for each one before he puts them on, so long as I wash all the potatoes for tonight. That’s a fair deal, so I’mma roll up my sleeves.”

“What’re the potatoes for?” Dallas’ stomach rumbled loudly as he walked into the bar with Reed in his arms. Or maybe it was Reed’s...

Stumbling up to his side, Pike peered up at him. “Curly fries, stew, kettle chips, all kinds of stuff. I’m gonna be washing like a thousand potatoes. I don’t mind, though. Endless snacks. And it’s kinda fun.”

“Sounds like there was a sale on them at the market.” Taking a deep breath, Dallas knocked on the cigar lounge door. “Special delivery. One slightly used sub.”

Flinging his arm over his eyes, Reed groaned. “This is such a bad idea. He’s gonna be pissed.”

“Not if you didn’t do something you weren’t supposed to do and didn’t tell me about it.” Dallas gave him a long look. “And you wouldn’t do that to me, now would you?”

Reed shook his head. “No, I tell you pretty much everything when we get a chance to hang out.” He lowered his arm, his lips curving into a soft smile. “That was really cool. We gotta do it more often.”

“Count on it.” Dallas began to expand on the idea, but the door opened, Jamie looking up at him with puffy red eyes.

“Oh.” Green eyes widened and he stepped back. “Reed is hurt, sirs.”

There was a low curse from Noah before the door was thrown wide open. “What happened?” He looked from Reed’s wet boxers to his hair. “Did he fall in the shower?”

“No, I didn’t. I can speak, you know.” Reed glanced from Noah to Jamie and back. “It’s nothing. You guys…work out your stuff. I can just go to the Clinic if anything comes up.”

“I’ve got this, Noah.” Jared sounded tired, but his expression was clear eyed and level when he gently drew Noah back from the door. “Jamie, bring your bag upstairs and work on your homework. We’ll talk more later. Dallas, bring Reed to the clinic and I’ll look him over.” He studied Reed’s face. “You overdid it yesterday.”

Inhaling slowly, Reed nodded, then blew out a breath. “I was having fun and I didn’t realize it until…well, this morning. When I tried to wash my hair.”

“Noah, go find Curtis and ask him to come see me.” Jared took Reed from Dallas’ arms, gently transferring him with all the care that always surprised him when the man exhibited it. “Come on, my boy. I’ve got you. We’ll take care of it and you’ll be much more comfortable.”

“Thank you, sir.” Reed glanced over at Noah. “You don’t gotta come. Stay with Jamie. I got people. We’re home. I’m good.”

Noah rubbed his hand over his mouth, then shook his head, turning and heading toward the gym. “I’ll send Curtis.”

“Thank you, love.” Jared let Noah hold the door for them. “I’d like you with me, even if Reed thinks he has people. I need mine, too.”

Throat working, Noah looked torn. “He needs me right now, Jared. I can’t leave him alone. I’ll have Wren join you, all right?”

Jared’s step faltered a bit, noticeable only to Reed because he carried him, and Dallas because he was paying very close attention as he followed. His gaze went far off then snapped back with his nod. “Of course, tiger. He’ll find this interesting.”

Closing his eyes as he pressed his forehead against Jared’s shoulder, Reed huffed as Noah walked away, speaking under his breath. “I hope they figure things the F out.”

“Hush, my boy.” Jared brought him into the clinic and turned as Dallas made to follow. “Let Rhodey know to keep an eye out.”

“Yes, sir.” The sub in Dallas automatically responded to Jared’s tone, his immediate reaction one of obedience as he turned away toward the security room. 

He wasn’t sure whether Jamie needed Noah, Noah needed Jamie, Jared needed Noah, or all three of them just needed to get locked in a room.

Might mention that to Rhodey...

Whatever it was, he had every faith they’d figure it out. The Core had proven time and again that beautiful diamonds were created under pressures. 

And those? Could cut through anything... 

Even the hard stuff.

Chapter Seventy-Nine

Inside the darker room, the monitors showed various areas of The Asylum. Rhodey’s broad back obscured several as Dallas stepped in and let his eyes adjust to the dim light. Shea sat with him. Unsure if he were interrupting a call or something important, Dallas remained quiet just inside the door.

“A little to the left, my little viper. Yes, that’s better. I have a clear view into the room.” Rhodey patted Shea’s shoulder. “I’m going to take watch with Seth now. You should be up to date on the new security measures Connor implemented. If there’s any trouble with the program, give me a shout and I’ll bring Wren down to check on it.”

Shea nodded, staring into the slightly larger screens as though familiarizing himself with the system. “The visuals are a lot fucking better, that’s for sure.”

Under the desk, Danny made a worried sound. “Wren should come organize these wires better. There are so many. It’s an everything hazard.”

“He and I are on watch later. I’ll help him.” Dallas spoke up from his position by the door.

Rhodey looked back and grinned at him. “Much better with the breathing. I’m going to have to reward you again, the positive reinforcement works fucking wonders, Jared was right.”

“I didn’t realize he knew what that term meant.” Grinning wide, Dallas teased his man. “I’m all for reaping the benefits. Good behavior has its own perks, but this is extra nice.” He sobered after a moment. “Speaking of...he said to keep an eye on Noah and Jamie. Or, well Noah, but he’s with Jamie in the loft.”

When Rhodey’s expression darkened, Shea held up a hand and shook his head. “I’ll watch them. Avery just put in all those new cams. If I spot anything, I’ll give you a head’s up. And just to make doubly sure, Danny will be my co-pilot. He’s better at spotting when people get all emo.”

“Sir, it’s not kind to call it that.” Danny rose up on his knees next to his Dom. “This is a very sad day. We’ll make sure everyone’s all right, though, sir.”

“Reed’s in the clinic with Jared. He’s all right, I think. Just overdid it yesterday.” Dallas continued the good news streak, figuring he’d get it all out of the way. “He seems a little...off himself. I don’t know a lot about his history with Quint and Seth, but I know enough to know that it looked like Noah choosing to go upstairs with Jamie fucked with him.”

Rhodey stood and turned to face him. “Jared? Yeah, I can see that.” He cursed quietly, motioning Dallas with him as he left the security room. “Dragging Noah away right now won’t do any fucking good, as much as I want to. Let’s go up to the roof. I’ll talk it out with Seth and you’ll replace one of us.”

“Yes, sir.” Dallas looked down at his sweats and bare feet without comment, Rhodey already ahead of him, and followed along.

Walking right into Rhodey’s back when he stopped short at the bottom of the step. He looked back at Dallas. “First day as Lawson’s sub and you’re losing clothes? We’re going to have to discuss that.” His gaze trailed down Dallas’ body. “Curtis has a nice ass, but yours is rounder. It’s making things snug in all the right places.”

“And here I thought you wouldn’t notice.” Gaze warming, Dallas shifted his attention from Rhodey’s face to the galley door and sniffed the air. Then groaned as his mouth began to water. “I smell snickerdoodles.”

“That’s because our boy is always making them for you.” Rhodey’s lips twitched. “Go get some, your breakfast was cut short for subbie wake up call. Then get some proper clothes on for watch.”

“On it. Thank you.” Dallas stole a drive-by kiss from Rhodey’s lips, enjoying the taste of his improvised morning screwdriver and bacon. He stopped with his palm on the galley door. “Want any when I come up?”

Rhodey inclined his head. “Ask him to pack up some stuff to bring up. We’ll share with Seth, he’s been up there since…probably close to when you got up.”

“Child’s play,” Dallas teased, punching in the code to the galley. Its sing-song tune was one he whistled on occasion when thinking about his boy, and he did so now. 

A bright laugh sounded from inside the pantry, Keiran swinging a dishtowel toward Pike’s butt. “How are you managing to splash me all the way over here? At least try to keep the water close to the sink.”

“I’ve gotten wet enough for one day, thanks.” Dallas stepped inside, closing the door with his back. Leaning against it, he folded his arms to observe his boy, and the little miscreant who stood on a stool to reach into the giant industrial sink, big enough to hold half the sub contingent and then some. “Lots of water, but zero breakfast. I’m going to waste away.”

Smoothly dodging another splash that came as Pike dive bombed the potatoes and chased them around the sink with a brush, Keiran slipped up to Dallas and wrapped his arms around his waist. “We can’t have that. How does warm cookies while you wait for steak and eggs sound?”

“Even better than Rhodey hammering my ass to orgasm this morning in the gym shower.” Dallas waggled his brows, already reaching for a cookie from the sheet that was cooling on the counter.

“Mmm, I’ll need to see if we got a good angle on the security cams.” Keiran made a dramatic sound of disappointment. “No there are none in there. Because privacy. Damn it, I’ll just have to sweetly ask him for a repeat.”

Dallas popped the entire cookie in his mouth, its warm cinnamon goodness still a tiny bit doughy in the middle just the way he liked it. He groaned, both from the visual of Keiran being allowed to jack off while watching Rhodey breach Dallas’ lewdly displayed pucker, and from the taste of the cookie. “Don’t know if my boner is from the cookies or the thought of you asking for just that.”

“Definitely both, sir.” Keiran wiggled his hips a little, breathing out a laugh against Dallas’ lips before he spun away and took out his favorite cast iron frying pan. “I made some fresh juice if you want some. If you don’t mind, pour some for Pike while you’re at it.” He shot the other sub an approving smile. “He’s been working hard and didn’t complain once. I think washing potatoes is his thing.”

On impulse, Dallas grabbed one of the sippy cups that were kept around for the littles, choosing one with a bright yellow and red beach ball on the side, and poured Pike his orange juice. His own glass was one of the older style Asylum mugs—white with a faded black logo. 

Moving around the galley, he snapped on the radio, tuned to a Spanish station, and sang along to one of his and Keiran’s favorite songs about a traveling troubadour whose only desire in life was to make it back to his homeland. His misadventures reminded Dallas, though sometimes things were out of his control, as long as The Asylum, and his men, were here waiting for him, there wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. 

Orange juice set down on the counter, he spun Keiran into his arms for a bit of a tango at the bridge of the song. Kissing his boy’s beautifully curved lips, he stared into his brown eyes that were all the best notes of caramel and cinnamon rolled into one. “I should’ve nicknamed you cookie.”

“But sweets covers everything, sir.” Keiran moved with him, spinning away, then spinning back toward his chest, his eyes locked with Dallas’. “And I love that you call me that, and Rhodey calls me sweetling. It’s special. You make me feel special.”

“It’s easy, because you are.” Kissing Keiran’s nose, Dallas snagged another cookie, sharing a bite from the snickerdoodle between his lips as he pressed his hips tight against his boy’s. 

Keiran released a quiet moan, chewing and swallowing. “Yep, that’s what it was missing. It tastes so much better from your lips. Not sure how to add that secret ingredient, though. I guess we’ll have to keep it for us and our men.”

Manipulating the rest of the cookie into his mouth with his tongue, Dallas let it melt away before he swallowed. “Not so secret if you know how to look at it.” He tipped his head to one side. “Have you ever noticed that life is as happy as you decide it will be? This moment—” Jutting his chin this way and that, he indicated the galley. “—what makes it special is you and me deciding right here, right now, to love each other and take joy in each other’s company. It’s pretty simple when it comes down to it.”

“True. I like how simple it is with us.” Keiran reached up, brushing his fingers lightly over Dallas’ hair. “There’s enough complicated out in the world. I could be perfectly happy with just this. You, Avery, Rhodey. Danny when his Doms aren’t hogging him. I mean, I wouldn’t want to lose any of the Core, but when it’s not simple out there? I’m grateful I can come back to somewhere that is.”

“Same.” The song ended, the radio announcer coming on and talking about a local music festival that the Youth and Performing Arts Center would be putting on for the holidays, and the auditions that were next week. “Want some help peeling those potatoes?”

Keiran nodded, glancing over at Pike, as if to make sure he hadn’t fallen in the sink, but he was quietly sipping at his cup and adding more potatoes to the water. Taking Dallas’ hand, Keiran brought him to one of the counters and crouched down. “Noah got this fancy new electric peeler. It’s been a godsend, it saves a lot of time and Quint would lose it if I let Pike try again.” His lips twisted to one side. “I understand he’s accident prone, but he can learn to be more careful with practice.” He shook his head. “Anyway, if you don’t mind doing some of this, I’ll finish with your steak and eggs and let you get back to work.”

Realizing he’d completely forgotten Rhodey’s orders, Dallas cursed under his breath. “I’m turning into Reed. I forgot I’m supposed to...bring food up on the roof? Get dressed? Eat and then get dressed? I can’t remember if the food on the roof was an order or if I just imagined it because I wanted a picnic up there with you.” Dallas shook his head. “Whatever. I’m losing my mind. I had to interrupt the Top Floor Quad’s political summit in the cigar lounge and everything went sideways. Jared had a moment. Noah probably had several, when I brought Reed down because he’s not feeling well. Now Rhodey’s worried, and I’ve got roof duty.” Done catching Keiran up, Dallas blew out a breath. “If any of those three comes up on the roof, I might throw them off.”

Keiran’s eyes went wide. “You’d throw Reed off? Okay, sit. I insist. I think you’re just hangry, sir.”

“No, Jamie. What the hell set him off anyway? Doesn’t he know it’s like he’s the match to Noah’s fuse? I can see why Jared gets frustrated with him.” Dallas plunked down on the stool, scowling, all thoughts about choosing to be happy flying out the window as his blood sugar zoomed around like one of Matt’s paper airplanes in class. “He was trained to think before he speaks. Why doesn’t he?”

Keiran flipped the steak, then brought Dallas another cookie. “We knew Connor leaving would toss the scales out the window. Let’s just hope the assignment ends sooner, rather than later.” His lips drew into a tight smile. “It’s a good thing this didn’t happen yesterday or I’d be taking that frying pan up to the top floor.”

“Word of advice, sweets?” Dallas aggressively bit off half a cookie. “Don’t wield that thing at Jamie. Noah’s not nice when his own are threatened.”

Glancing at Pike again, Keiran lowered his voice for Dallas’ ears alone. “Then I knock him out first. Make it a two-fer. Problem solved.”

“Don’t—” Waving one hand, Dallas laughed, nearly choking on the cookie. He finished chewing and swallowing. “Goddamn, I love you.”

Keiran leaned in to kiss him. “I love you, too, sir.” He spun away, heading over to put on the eggs. “This is almost ready. So, you were saying about Reed? He’s okay?”

“Likely just overdid it.” Lifting his o.j., Dallas took a long drink then licked his lips. “I wasn’t going to be the one to tell Lawson or Curtis I didn’t get him checked out.”

“No, that wouldn’t have gone over well.” Keiran took out a plate, then put it down, grabbing a cookie and bringing it to Pike to stick it in his mouth. “Stop eating those, they’re no good raw. No wonder Jared calls you a gremlin.”

Pike giggled as he munched on the cookie. “I just wanted to do the quality control part of my job. Still potatoes.”

Making a gagging sound at Pike’s antics, Dallas stood, noting Keiran’s cooking was about done. “Pack it in a plate for the roof. I’m already going to get my ass beat for taking so long. I don’t want to cause more work for our man.”

With a quick nod, Keiran smiled at him and moved around the kitchen, putting Dallas’ breakfast on a to-go plate with a lid, then preparing a few of both Rhodey and Seth’s favorite snacks, along with some sandwiches and most of the cookies. He packed it all in a large, reusable grocery bag and brought it to Dallas. “Grab a few bottles of beer and he won’t be upset, he’ll know you took an appropriate amount of time for provisions.”

“Clever.” Smiling against Keiran’s lips, Dallas breathed a laugh before he deepened the kiss to sweep every last bit of sweetness from his mouth.

A soft sound of pleasure escaped Keiran before he eased back. “To be continued. Now hurry up, sir, or even my cooking can’t save you.”

Taking the bag with a salute to his sub, Dallas hightailed it into the bar, where he grabbed the requisite beers and took the stairs two at a time after. A quick change later, he put in his ear piece and checked in. “Dallas on coms.”

“About time.” Rhodey’s tone was dry. “Keep that on you next time. What’s your ETA?”

Dallas pushed out through the roof door, carrying the bag and beers, as he answered. “On your six.”

At the far side of the roof, one foot up on the brick ledge, Rhodey looked over at him. “Come make yourself comfortable. We decided Seth’s going down. He has a better excuse, being a doctor and all. Jared will know if I’m hovering.”

Stepping up to one of the industrial A.C. units that had a protective pedestal over it that they tended to use as a table, Dallas deposited the beers and began unpacking the bag. “Keiran thought you might like some, too.” 

Seth looked over at them, just getting off his mobile. “Connor got detained by Customs. He brought contraband into the country.” His lips quirked. “A pop C.D. Guess which one?”

“One of the little kitty cat’s?” Rhodey came over and helped himself to a couple powdered donuts. “Sentimental fool. If he gets himself locked up, I’m leaving him in for a week.”

We’re all sentimental about something. 

Studying Rhodey’s face, Dallas visually traced the edges of his frown lines. “I guess it’s a good thing Avery doesn’t have aerial videos for your viewing pleasure when you’re on solo missions.”

“Our boy wouldn’t let me be distracted like that. It’s hard to submit to a body bag.” Rhodey stuffed a cookie in his mouth, chuckling as he chewed. “That would be a neat trick, though.”

“Try submitting in one. Jared’s been known to use that trick.” Doing a fair imitation of Jared’s deep sinister tones, Seth spoke with his eyes half closed. “Oh, yes. I like you just like that. Except maybe a little to the left. Can you move? No. Tsk. I shall be forced to keep twisting the vice screws.”

Staring at Seth, Rhodey gave himself a little shake. “You do that again and I’m either going to throw you off the roof or fuck you. That wasn’t too damn bad.”

“Used to piss the hell out of him.” Seth dusted his fingers on his jeans, his usual Cool-Hand-Luke stare morphing into a shit eating grin. “Let me know when you want me to warm your bed. I’ve got a few things left to check off on my fucket list.”

Rhodey snorted, gesturing at Seth with a cookie. “I’ll keep that in mind. Now have a snack and fuck off. Save the trash talk for me. We want to avoid Jared deciding to kill you. And not for fun. Or in a way you might survive.”

Taking the cookie from Rhodey’s fingers, Seth crammed the entire thing in his mouth like he’d been taking lessons from Pike. The fact that Rhodey didn’t stab a knife through his hand, while threatening to kill him, meant he must’ve finally earned his place in the man’s good graces.

When Seth walked away, waving to the gang on the opposite side of the street as they aimed what appeared to be a pellet gun in his direction, Dallas snorted. “Don’t they know that thing won’t fire this far?”

“No. They don’t even share half a brain between them.” Rhodey cleared his throat. “Which is why we’re not picking them off. No target practice today, little snake.”

A heavy sigh was Avery’s only answer across the earpiece, and the biggest complaint he ever gave in response to one of Rhodey’s orders.

“Maybe I’ll let you take out the big one if you’re a good boy.” Rhodey grinned as he dug into the donuts again. “He’s been harassing Keiran’s cheese people. I’d let him do it, but I’m trying to pull him back from that headspace before he ends up killing Quint.”

“Good point.” Sawing into the tender steak with the side of his fork, Dallas took his time answering. “You know...we should pair them up on a mission.”

Rhodey tipped his head to one side, nodding slowly. “That might be good for them. They’re too damn territorial here. On a mission, they might bond or some shit. I’ll see what I can arrange.” His brow furrowed. “We need to make sure the boy’s safe first or Quint will never go for it. And I’ll need to clear things up between him and Vani.” He blew out a breath. “More complicated bullshit. Why must people keep doing that?”

“Peopling is messy.” Avery’s voice echoed across the ear piece, sounding like he crawled through the vents. “If they just get it all out fucking, it works much better.”

Dallas nearly choked on his bite of steak and cookie, hearing the sub curse. He laughed, taking a sip of beer to wash everything down. “At the very least, they’re too exhausted to cause trouble, or their mouths are too full to start something.”

Grunting, Rhodey cracked open his beer. “Some people can’t be fucked enough for even that. But it’s a pretty thought.” His lips curved. “I’m going to have to get our little snake up here and fuck him, since he’s got it on the brain. It’s a good thing I stay in shape. Demanding subs.”

“You do keep collecting us.” Dallas clinked the neck of his beer bottle against Rhodey’s. “Now I know the real reason you let Lawson tag me.”

There was some warning in Rhodey’s level gaze. “I almost didn’t. If you’re in his bed more than mine, I might forget why I like him being alive. But reminding me could be good foreplay. Let me know if you want to try it out.”

“I like your bed more than fine, my man. Besides, his is full of Jell-O.” Dallas mock shuddered. “Worse than sand in your crotch.”

Rhodey’s brows lifted. “Jell-O? Yeah, that’s some kinky shit. Not my style at all. If you do go there for…whatever it is they do in that funhouse, wash up good before you come back to me.” He looked Dallas over, looking pleased with seeing him back in his own standard black cargo pants and T-shirt, along with sturdy boots. “Ah. Okay, that explains playing dress up in Curtis’ clothes.”

As Rhodey’s observation continued, Dallas’ smile grew progressively wider until he all-out grinned like the Cheshire Cat, his face hurting with the expression. “I love that you put all that together. You’re fucking amazing. One of the best things that ever happened to me was meeting you.”

“Obviously, but if you keep getting sappy I’m going to have to throw you at Avery’s prize target and make sure you haven’t lost your edge.” Rhodey’s warm smile took some of the sharpness from his words. “Avery told me what happened, I’m not actually psychic. But that would be a pain in the ass, anyway. I don’t want to be in some fucker’s head while they’re thinking about how bad they’ve gotta take a piss.”

Dallas spat out a laugh. “I promise if you’re ever in my head, it’s far more interesting up here.” He tapped his temple. “Not a lot of drama either. I’d invite you in, but I’d rather visit your place.”

“Not right now you don’t. Keiran got that fucking song stuck in my head.” Rhodey took a swig of beer. “I hate that damn song. I forbade Danny from ever listening to it again. This is some weird fucking karma.”

Humming Wrecking Ball, Dallas pretended to use his beer as a mic, and stepped out of Rhodey’s range. “Good tune.”

“You’re in high form today.” Rhodey smiled against the rim of his bottle. “Keep it up. I let Avery take out his darts again.”

There was a snicker over the earpiece, Avery humming Monster.

“Karaoke night at our place would be a hoot. Let’s send out invites for Monday night.” Dallas propped his hip against one of the high points along the roof wall, his gaze going to the gang who’d decided to head en masse toward the café. “9-1-1 for the Roughhouse.”

Rhodey growled and stood, hand going to his ear. “Keiran, head out. Lock the small one in the galley. Avery, go back him up.” His lips thinned. “So much for giving him a break from killing people. I’ll just have to double up sessions with Stephan. For both of them.”

Motion around the back of the café alerted Dallas that Matt had stepped outside, likely to take out the trash. At the same time the gang separated, some going inside and others scattering around either side of the building in a pincher formation. So much for not having a brain.

“Are they timing our response?” Dallas took out his gun and screwed on the silencer.

Nodding, Rhodey waved him on. “Our boys will need you, too. I’m calling Quint back in and getting Seth into position. Let’s not chance this being a diversion.”

Dallas took the quick way down, landing on his feet as the side door opened and Seth stepped out, Jared right behind. He groaned inwardly, but didn’t have time to argue with the man as they all headed out the gate at a fast clip.

In the laneway by the café, between the gang and Matt, Keiran had his knives out, cutting down anyone who got close with smooth efficiency. He spared a second to glance back over his shoulder. “Inside. Keep Lawson there, too, in the storage area. Lock the doors.”

“They’re inside already.” Dallas split off from Seth, using his earpiece to communicate with his boy. 

Jared stayed close, his own gun pointing toward the ground but everything in his posture and gaze saying he had been trained for this too, and there was no way he was letting them all take heat while he sat on the sidelines. Dallas sure as fuck hoped the man knew what he was doing, because if there was more than one doctor casualty there’d be no one to patch them all up. 

Inside, the gang had the customers lying face down on the ground while they tossed the place. They’d already emptied the til and were stuffing bags full of all the baked goods. If it weren’t for the two who had guns to customer’s heads, he already would’ve gone inside.

“Eyes on Lawson. He’s in the back hall. They haven’t spotted him yet. Two with guns on customers.” Dallas did a quick count. “Four gang members inside, possibly another in the bathroom.”

In his ear, Rhodey’s tone was gruff. “Damn it, the man won’t leave with civilians in danger. And the gang will recognize him. I need to start making the fucker wear an earpiece. If he gets himself or any of you shot, I’m changing my mind about the tag. Again.”

Roaring up on his motorcycle, Curtis popped a wheelie and shouted like a warlord. Plowing straight for the plate glass window in full leathers and helmet. The entire gang widened their eyes, bringing up their weapons to train on him at once.

Lawson’s shout was visible from here as he rushed into the main area of the café. He slammed into one of the gangsters, knocking him into another to create a domino effect. The chaos gave several of the customers the opportunity to make a mad dash for the exits.

Weapon up, Dallas rushed through the door as Curtis slid to a stop an inch from the window. Glass shattered, and he flew backward off the motorcycle to land on his back on the pavement. His bike toppled even as Dallas shot the fucker who’d taken him down. One moment, the man’s eyes were full of life and the next he stared in surprise as he toppled over onto a table.

Close enough to feel the body heat against his back, a familiar presence alerted Dallas to another member of the Core joining the fray. As a gangster spun to aim at Lawson, Noah shot him between the eyes. Continued forward without pause..

He strode over the bodies, dragging Lawson to his feet. “Go to your boy. Get yourselves to safety.”

Still outside, Jared bent over Curtis, hands on his chest. “Man down!”

Rushing to his side, Quint knelt and dropped a medkit between him and Jared. His calm demeanor despite the bullets flying made it clear he’d done this before—probably more times than he could count. “Pressure bandage. We’ll stabilize then clear out the wounded.”

Jared grunted, jerking back but not letting go of Curtis as red bloomed across the white T he wore. That also made him a sitting duck.

Swearing, Dallas kept low, confident Noah could cover the interior. He exited the café at a roll. Returned fire on the man shielded behind a car, giving him an advantage over those stuck in the open. None of Dallas’ shots slowed the bastard down. Changing tactics, he hit the gas tank instead and sent the man on a very short trip to hell.

The explosion rattled the windows. Debris rained down on the parking lot. But the building didn’t take any impact.

“Jared’s hit.” Dallas spoke into his earpiece.

“Damn it.” Rhodey made an aggravated sound. “Seth, cover them. Wren, I need your eyes. Can you take out the gangsters surrounding them?”

Tone eerily level, Wren responded. “Yes, sir.” A buzzing sounded overhead. “No good people in range. But ours need to duck.”

Pulling a fast maneuver, Dallas landed on top of Jared. Pushed him on top of Curtis without jarring his hands. Covering his body with his own, he figured Quint would get the point when he shouted, “Down!”

A spray of bullets sent debris scattering, and the closest shots died away as the armed drone flew off, into the laneway, where there were a few sporadic shots. This time, Wren’s voice was a bit shaken. “Avery and Keiran are clear, but Keiran’s been cut bad.” He inhaled roughly. “Non-life-threatening wound. His face. I’ll go check the back.”

“Good boy.” Rhodey’s tone hadn’t changed. It never did in dangerous situations. “Make sure our men are covered so they can bring the wounded home.”

Limping around the side of the building, Matt supported Keiran, half of Dallas’ boy’s face a mask of blood, like the makeup donned for Wren’s party gone overboard. Matt’s own T was torn, a few scrapes at the ripped knees of his jeans like he’d taken a nosedive at some point to avoid some bullets or knives himself.

He shouted for his Dom, eyes wild. “Lawson! Law!”

Dallas peeled himself off Jared and Curtis, blood hot and wet over his own chest. Motioning the sub over, he couldn’t get Matt’s attention over the desperate calls.

The shooting had stopped. At least the worst was over.

Coming out of the café, Lawson seemed to be half fighting with Noah to get him out to the street. “Right here, my love. I’m fine.” He growled at Noah. “You’re not just pulling it out, you crazy bastard. Look at me before you end up slipping. They’re dead. You’re done. And if you move that knife you’ll do more damage.”

“You’re sweet to worry.” Noah smiled, brushing a bloody kiss to Lawson’s lips. “I might need to use it. And it will be fucking beautiful.”

“Quint.” Jared’s tone was breathy with pain, his grip obviously slackening on Curtis as more blood poured from under his fingers. “Where’s Seth? Do we need to call it?”

Quint stroked Jared’s hair, looking like he was doing his best to treat both his Dom and Curtis at once. Pressed Jared back, he took over plugging Curtis’ wound with a bandage before moving to Jared to compress the bullet wound in his side. “We don’t need to call it, sir. I’m saving all of them, remember? You can tell me how stubborn I am.”

Jared laughed, then winced, coughing up a little blood. “Oh, that’s not good. Punctured lung. No wonder...it’s hard to breathe.”

Feeling a little out of his depth, Dallas crouched beside Quint. “Tell me what to do.”

“We need to get Curtis to the clinic and get a blood supply going. Wren can do that, he has experience now.” Quint looked over the rest of the injured. “Matt? Are you well enough to compress that cut on Keiran’s face? It goes up to his scalp and I don’t like how much blood he’s losing, but it should be easy enough to stabilize.” He took out a long needle, stabbing it into Jared’s chest. “There we go, sir. Deep breaths.”

“Noah, I need your help getting Curtis to the clinic.” Making an executive decision to get the man back there himself, Dallas shouted to him. Even if it sent him over, he usually took care of his own people first. He lowered his voice. “Rhodey, you’re gonna need to use your superpowers.”

“I know. I’m on my way down.” Rhodey spoke sharply to someone. “No, Jacks, you can’t come. On the roof with Shea to guard the building. Danny can keep an eye on the cameras. We need all hands on fucking deck.”

Smoothly freeing himself from Lawson, Noah jerked out the knife that was just under his ribs and tossed it aside like he didn’t feel a thing. He came over and took hold of Curtis’ shoulders. “This is no way to play, my man. You let the game end too early.” He hummed to himself as he waited patiently for Dallas to get Curtis’ legs. “You’ll have to sit the next one out.”

Trying—and mostly succeeding—not to be creeped out by the man, Dallas worked with him to get Curtis across the street. Passing the alley, he spotted Seth at the far end with another medkit, tending Avery’s shoulder.

He whistled sharply to get Seth’s attention. “Cleanup in aisle four. We fucking need you over here.”

Seth threw Avery over his shoulder, trotting up to them and leaving the medkit behind. “Jesus. That’s an understatement.” He looked Noah over, probably wondering the same thing Dallas was, which was how he remained standing. His gaze landed on Curtis’ middle. “They were using hollow points. Let’s hope it was a through-and-through.”

“Boys with their toys. They really were naughty.” Noah clucked his tongue and leaned down to whisper to Curtis as he continued carrying him. “I’m going to make such a beautiful mess for you, love. Just wait.”

Dallas pretty much figured the man didn’t mean he wanted to do some pretty snow paintings. More like some street art with thug blood. In the clinic, he laid Curtis down on the stretcher, calling out for Wren. “We need a blood bag for Curtis.”

“On it, sir.” Already prepped, Wren moved around the stretcher, glancing at Noah before he hooked Curtis up to an IV. “Sir, you need to sit down.”

Shaking his head, Noah pressed a kiss to Wren’s temple. “No, I’m going out tonight, my sweet little bird. I’d say don’t wait up, but you’ll be right here. Make sure you stay right here. Sing them all to sleep like a good boy.” He headed to the door, whistling now.

Rhodey cut him off, giving him a sharp command in Russian that had him turning and taking a seat. Expression blank, it was as though he’d been…removed from his power supply. Crouching down, Rhodey peeled off his shirt. “Damn it, nephew. You are starting to have too much fun collecting fucking scars.”

On another exam table, Avery had started stitching up his own shoulder, using the eye chart mirror on the wall to see what he was doing. “Quint is triaging Jared. Matt is bringing Keiran back. May I finish up here, and then go on cleanup detail?”

“No, I’ll have Vani come in. I don’t want Lawson calling in any more favors and we need all our people.” Rhodey observed Avery as he lifted Noah into his arms, bringing him to yet another stretcher, several having been set up between the beds. “Dallas is going to be very busy pleasuring me, since I have to put both you and Keiran in time out for getting hurt. Bad subs.”

Despite the carnage, Dallas snorted, his gaze going to the door when Seth entered with Keiran and Matt. He stood, helping to lower his boy onto one of the stretchers. Tears of rage at what the assholes had done to his boy pricked at the corners of his eyes, but he forced a smile onto his face. “Hey, now. What have we here? Hello, sweets.”

“I decided I needed a new accessory.” Keiran winced, bringing his hand up to his cheek. The cut reached from his jaw to just above his hairline, not as deep near the bottom, though it probably stung like hell. “Damn it, we’re supposed to avoid identifiable marks. That was sloppy. I’ll work on my close combat.”

Dallas forced down a growl, moving back as Seth took over.

“I’m going to let Quint suture this. It’ll save a lot of scarring. Right now, I need Wren to clean the wound and dress it while I work on Curtis.” Seth’s narration of what he planned helped settle Dallas. “You can both help me by making sure to stay out of the path when he brings Jared in to work on him.”

Looking over, Wren addressed Seth in the level tone he seemed to have adapted from a mix of all three of the doctors. “He’s all prepped for you, Doctor. I can begin working on the smaller injuries.”

Spying Noah, Seth let out a curse. “This was not the time for anyone to play hero. We’re down a doctor, and I only have two hands. I’m a surgeon, not an octopus.” He gave Rhodey a sideways look. “Do you have any surgical experience beyond your own sutures?”

“He’s my nephew. What do you think?” Rhodey grabbed a pair of gloves and tried to pull them on, then rolled his eyes and went to the cabinet, taking out a fresh box that clearly held a bigger size. “I can take care of him. You mind your own patient.”

At the door, helping Quint carry Jared in, Lawson looked over the room. His throat worked as he looked over Curtis. “How is he?”

“Lawson, you need to keep moving.” Quint nudged him a bit with the stretcher. “There will be time for answers when we’ve handled all our wounded. The job isn’t done yet.”

Holding Keiran’s hand, Dallas did his best to stay out of Wren’s way as the sub bustled around his boy. “Law. There’s a chair here with a view. Come sit.”

Once Jared was placed and Quint had begun to get him set up for surgery, Lawson came to Dallas’ side and dropped heavily into the chair. He shook his head, his gaze locked on Curtis. Then he blinked. “Matt?”

“Yes, sir.” Returning with a few coffees, Matt handed one to Lawson and another to Dallas. “There’s whiskey in them. Sip slowly.”

“Thank you, my boy.” Lawson took the coffee, then pulled Matt right into his lap. “Damn it, I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I thought I’d made it safe enough. That I could keep you safe. That was…” He tightened his grip around his boy. “I shouldn’t have let you out of my sight.”

“I’m going to shut down the café.” Hollow-eyed gaze on Curtis, who was visible on the table through the window into the surgery, Matt didn’t appear upset about his business. More like he saw all the ways in which his family was more important to him than that little bit of creative independence. “I’d like to open something here to the members for weekends, but we can talk about it later. I just wanted you to know.”

Lawson’s jaw hardened. “Yes, we will discuss it later. Because I’m not letting you give it up. We’ll find a way. I don’t care how many times we have to rebuild. We don’t give up. I won’t let them take this from you, my boy.”

Holding Keiran close around his waist, Dallas kissed the uninjured side of his face. He knew exactly how Lawson felt. Watching Keiran and Matt blossom at the helm of their culinary ships had brought the entire Asylum to the next level. The community had benefited, but so had all of the subs who’d taken part in learning new skills and supporting one another.

Meeting Lawson’s eyes, Dallas made him a silent promise that the man’s steady gaze returned tenfold. Come hell, high water, or—knowing this place—both, there were no lengths they wouldn’t go to in order to make sure these two strong, beautiful men had everything they’d worked so hard to achieve.

It might take guns and bombs.

Maybe a couple wrecking balls.

But to paraphrase Rhodey…

What’s a few controlled explosions when love and happiness are on the line?

 

Chapter Eighty

Two days in bed is too long, nevermind two weeks. 

Glaring at Quint, Jared tugged the blankets up to his chin, uncovering Noah’s left leg in the process. The sub had been using his honorary Dom status as their chief physician in Seth’s absence far too liberally. After bitching about needing a break for years, this wasn’t exactly what he’d had in mind. And with Wren and Jamie all but banished from the loft, staying with Jacks and Shea, it had been himself, Noah—content to poke his nose in a book all day until Quint took it away, not engaging in conversation—and the damned cat.

Who seemed to know exactly where to step to cause maximum pain to Jared’s formerly punctured lung and cracked rib. 

Eyeing the feline, who Wren would’ve labeled unhygienic and, blessedly regularly shooed away, Jared barely resisted the urge to stick out his tongue. If he did, Quint would be sure to stick that thermometer back under it, and injury or no injury there would be words.

And beatings.

Probably a court martial if I could re-up.

“I do believe I would have suffered less if someone had nailed me to a damned cross.” Grumbling, Jared slid down against the pillows. “Haven’t you heard of bed sores, boy?”

Quint eyed him as he took a few notes on his clipboard. He went over to the dresser to set it down and returned to give Jared a long look. “The time I allow you out of bed to stretch your legs and go to the bathroom will avoid that, as you well know, Jared. And don’t think using ‘boy’ will change how I treat you. You’re not chancing a relapse or pneumonia because you’re stubborn. Or grumpy.” He made an irritated sound as Noah slid from the other side of the bed. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Living room. Reed just brought in the mail.” Noah crossed the room, slipping into the hall. His huff carried back. “I can open the box myself.”

Sounding like he was enjoying this a bit too much, Reed clucked his tongue. “You haven’t graduated from five pounds yet, sir. These books are definitely more. I’ll unpack them and you can have one.”

“Books...” Scowling, Jared made a face that would’ve made his ten-year-old self proud. “Maybe if I wrap myself in paper and add some cardboard box flaps to my face I’ll be more interesting.”

That got him another look from Quint. “Keeping you quiet was better for your healing, sir. But you can have any conversation you’d like now. Within reason. I hear any shouting and I’m sedating you both.”

Noah strode back into the room—carrying the rationed book—and gritted his teeth. “You’re not sedating either of us, so get that right out of your damn head.”

“Not that there would be much of a difference if you were asleep.” Jared huffed, folding his arms over his black satin pajama top.

 Dropping the book on his side of the bed, Noah straightened and planted his hands on his hips. He almost managed to conceal his wince at the posture, his gaze locking with Jared’s. “Am I not good company? If there’s something else you’d rather me be doing, let me know. My options are a bit limited as far as entertainment goes.”

“Chess. Backgammon... Tiddly-fucking-winks!” An attempt to raise his voice only producing a somewhat breathier but equally gravelly whisper, Jared made a disgusted sound at the back of his throat. He waved his hand to indicate the space between them on the bed that had what looked like the Great Wall of China built in books. “People say masturbation makes you go blind. You’re apparently trying to rewrite the old wives’ tale.”

A slow blink was Noah’s only response at first as he lowered himself to the edge of the bed. He glanced toward the door when Quint silently took his leave, then met Jared’s eyes again. “This is what you used to have me do, all the time when I was too close to going off the deep end. I might be better now than I was then, but this is… I went there again, my man. Rhodey had to pull me back. I don’t want to have to start from scratch when there’s already…so much fucking uncertainty.”

Most times, he found reading Noah—Jared snorted at the internal and unintended pun—and understanding Noah came naturally to him. Perhaps it was the pain meds, or the fact the two of them had never been housebound at once before, but staring at his lover and attempting to figure out what he’d just said gave him nothing more than the beginnings of a headache.

“Uncertainty...” Jared glanced around the room. “Everything in here is certain. It’s certain we’ll get ten minutes with our boys. Certain we’ll have some variation on Dickensian gruel for lunch. Certain we’ll pass the day with both of us having our noses stuck in books. Then be administered vile tasting syrup because apparently having one’s lung punctured means the pills might fall out the hole, and then we’ll pass out and you’ll snore and—” Gasping, he took a giant inhale to finish. “—talk in your sleep while I stare at the ceiling at three a.m.”

Noah’s lips thinned. He lowered to the pillows, shaking his head. “Nevermind. I’ll ask your boy if he can do something about the damn snoring, all right? I didn’t realize I was disturbing your sleep.”

Cheeks heating with his frustration, Jared snatched up a book, intending to grab his volume of Victorian poetry, and ended up with something that had a very angry looking squid on the cover. He frowned at it. “No. At least in your sleep you talk.”

“I’m talking now.” Noah turned his head toward Jared. “Is there something specific you wanted to discuss?”

Nothing...everything.

Anything.

“This isn’t talking. It’s sniping.” Placing the book down on the pile, Jared attempted to neaten the jumble into neater stacks that only slid over. “You usually read your favorite bits to me. And you’ve reconstructed post-war Berlin in our bed.”

Lips twitching up at the edges, Noah looked over the books. “It’s the only way to keep my options open, since there’s always someone around to remind me not to carry anything too heavy.” He gave the door a covert look. “No one’s watching now. I can move them since they’re clearly making you…uncomfortable.”

Jared shook his head, picking at a loose thread on the fluffy pink duvet cover. “No. It’s fine. I can’t help feeling it’s symbolic.”

“Me giving you some space from me so you can heal? And so I don’t turn into a fucking monster no one wants to put up with?” Noah let out a bitter laugh. “Maybe. I’ll have to have Curtis teach me how to build sturdier walls.”

“Why bother? Since you’re going to construct real ones with him and run away? I’ll have the entire bed to myself, then. Will you be taking Wren, too? Or only depriving me of the company of the man I love?” Nostrils flaring, Jared inhaled deep enough that it threw him into a coughing fit. 

Staring at him, Noah shook his head. “Jared, that’s not… Fuck, you know I’d never take Wren from you. It’s not like that. If not for Jamie, he’d be yours alone. But Jamie needs more from me than I can give him here. Giving him a home, a place that’s ours… I’m hoping it will make him happy. I can’t just sit back and do nothing. But I’ll still be… Me and you, we’ll still be…us.”

“Apart.”

The idea of The Asylum without Noah here, without Jamie and Wren’s laughter and shenanigans filling the loft, was anathema to him. It went against everything they’d built together, everything this place was meant to be down to its marrow. A home and a haven for all of them. Inside this quad, and the others.

“Noah, have you considered that it’s not you or this place that’s making him unhappy?” Staring out the window, Jared remembered hearing Wren say something about snow.

“No. Because I married him, and it’s my job to make him happy. I’m not about to make excuses, or shift blame.” Noah carefully folded one arm under his head. “I can do more and I will. But it will be a nice big house. There will be time to work out all the details. You and Wren can visit and the things that…” He drew in a deep breath. “The things that didn’t work between you and Jamie won’t create so much tension. I’m not an idiot, my love. I know you two only pushed through it for me. And I refuse to put either of you through that any longer than necessary.”

Feeling like he tried to grasp water with his fingers, Jared reached for something to say, opening and closing his mouth a few times. “We were doing better...we had an understanding… Why give up now? We haven’t. I haven’t.” Have I? “Are you telling me that you want me to uncollar him?”

“No. But…if that’s something he wants, you know we’ll both have to respect that.” Noah rubbed his hands over his face. “Jared, he was ready to move into Connor’s place on his own. And you took the belt to him. I just found someone who can give him things we can’t, and he’s lost him already for who knows how long? He needs someone gentler than either of us. I’m not sure I can be that person, but I’ll damn well try.”

In all the time that they’d been co-Domming Jamie and Wren, there hadn’t been a conversation quite like this one. “It seems...backwards to communicate about this now rather than when we might’ve been working toward something different.” Jared wasn’t entirely sure what that would’ve looked like, but he knew one thing. “I never knew you thought he needed someone gentler. And...Noah, it might not have been the right move at the time, but he has a responsibility to several people outside himself. I punished him in anger and I can apologize to him for that, and you. But he is not the only one in this quad, and the level of explosive emotion was not an appropriate response. For anyone.”

“Explosive emotion? You mean him being heartbroken that a man he’s loved for so long, who he’d finally connected with on a different level, was ripped away from him when they’d just found each other?” Noah shoved to a sitting position, not reacting to the pain at all this time. “If you think that’s explosive, you haven’t got many details from Rhodey on how I reacted when you didn’t come back when I thought you would. That wasn’t appropriate. That was a fucking headcase losing his shit. Jamie just needed some patience and understanding.”

Seeing both Jamie and Noah in the same light was possibly a farther leap than Jared could make, he conceded to himself after a moment of attempting to align what he knew about Noah with what he knew about Jamie. 

“You were much younger, in a very precarious position, and I was all you had. The trust you were building with me was the foundation for so much.” Placing his hand palm up on one of the glossy hardcovers, Jared reached out to the man he’d loved for so long that he couldn’t recall a time when he hadn’t. “Jamie...he wants softer. More romantic. You do give that to him. Perhaps you’re right that I can’t and don’t—I’ve never pretended to be anything other than what I am—but he also knew what he was getting with taking us on. He proposed to you. Not the other way around. If you attempt to change to fit whatever mold you think he has for you, it will only break.”

Noah took Jared’s hand and laced their fingers together. “You don’t need to be anyone other than who you are. Why would you pretend anything? But me? I had to change a lot after Rhodey started taking care of me just to be a decent human being. I said ‘yes’, my love. That’s what it comes down to. I need to do this. If it doesn’t work? I’ll try something else.” He shook his head a little. “And I don’t think he knew what he was getting into. At all. Maybe that’s what created some…of the tension between you. It’s what you expected, but he’s not there. He went from L.A. to The Asylum, what reference did he really have?”

Rhodey...Quint...Seth...Noah...

It seemed he was always losing out on first draft picks. If it weren’t for Wren...hell, if it weren’t for Noah allowing Wren to choose him, Jared had a feeling there would be three men moving to Jamie’s dream house in the wildflower meadows. At least he wouldn’t need to go back to being The Asylum’s resident wraith. 

As much as Jared wanted to ask Noah to choose him, he knew that his lover had already made his choice and that the best he could do was to stand by and support him in his decision. Tightening his fingers, he rubbed the pad of his thumb over knuckles scarred from fights. So many of these lines were ones he’d stitched, bandaged, and tended himself. He couldn’t help wondering if parents felt this way over children leaving their nests.

But perhaps that was it, and this was just his time to learn to let go.

Smiling softly to reassure Noah, Jared squeezed his hand and sat back against the pillows. “Relax, love. Tell me about what you’re reading. If we only have a few more months to enjoy each other here, let’s make the most of it.”

“There will be a place for you there, Jared. Whenever you want it.” Noah blinked fast, lifting Jared’s hand to his chest. He gave his head a little shake and let out a quiet laugh. “If you’d asked me, when I was still young and not used to saying goodbye? When I thought you were the only one I’d ever need? I would have said yes. That place in my heart? Will always be yours.”

As they say, timing is everything.

“And if I had asked you then, I would’ve been stealing something from you that you weren’t able to give with full consent.” Keeping his hand wrapped around Noah’s Jared tugged until Noah’s fingers were at his lips. He kissed each knuckle, his gaze never leaving Noah’s face. “And then...you had Curtis and Lawson...Wren. I didn’t know you still saw me. So I waited, hoped, and watched over you. Just like I always will.”

Noah inhaled roughly, then inclined his head. “Yes, well, I took your advice and went out there to build something of my own. Lawson and Curtis? Look at them now. They’re better off, but maybe…maybe we’re getting some of what we once had back. With you? I don’t want to lose what we’ve finally found. I don’t want to hurt you. But I also need to make sure my husband has a chance to get what he needs.”

“What do you need?” Jared knew he hadn’t addressed Noah’s observations, but as he searched those light gray eyes he knew and loved so well, he needed to understand what had driven Noah to sacrifice everything he was, time and again. “Tell me you can be happy, and I’ll let it go. I’ve lived what seems like half my life praying to a god I don’t believe in that I could find a way to make you happy.”

Shifting closer, Noah adjusted so he was leaning over Jared, bringing their lips together as he spoke. “I was happy, my man. So happy. You gave me that and being with you? It gives me more than I ever thought I deserved. So you don’t need to worry.”

“And now?” Cupping Noah’s cheek, Jared eased back. “Are you? Can you be?”

Noah breathed out a laugh, slipping away from him and crossing the room on silent steps, eyeing the door. “You want me to do something other than read? Let me show you the preliminary blueprints. There’s a room I’m putting in, just for you. It has those bay windows you like. And I’m getting some special stained glass made for the library.” He opened his closet and took out a long box, returning to the bed and pulling out a few rolled up papers. Spreading them over both their laps, he began pointing out all the details. “The wraparound porch was a necessity. We’ll both be old men one day and need to sit there on rocking chairs.”

Leaning forward, Jared mentally adjusted to the topic shift, knowing he’d pushed Noah far enough. He instinctively closed the door on the conversation. There was one thing he hadn’t heard in all this and that was an invite to live with him and Jamie, he and Wren forming the same unit they’d done over the past several years. It wouldn’t matter, regardless, because Wren wouldn’t want to leave The Asylum. It was the only real home he—and many of the Core—had ever known. 

Jared nodded and asked questions about the beautiful architectural details that were evident even in two dimensions as he tried to find any permutation or change in himself that would allow things to work out differently. Or that wouldn’t have brought all of them to this place.

He supposed there would be fewer triggers for Noah away from the city and The Asylum...but also fewer people to rescue him if he did go over into the darkness. 

Did this mean Rhodey would slip away, too? Devoting his quad to their mercenary work? Or would they hover close to Noah to protect him? How might that expose Wren to greater threats? Or his little gremlin? His little Despereaux? Reed, Curtis...Lawson...

All of these permutations and scenarios reared, presenting problems that came of attempting to remove the lynchpin of The Asylum. Noah. Who perhaps everyone else guessed, but Jared understood, didn’t see exactly how vital he was to the happiness and security of those around him. And likely never would.

A quiet knock sounded on the bedroom door, Jamie peeking his white head of hair through the crack. “Hello?” 

Noah lifted his gaze. “Hello, little cat. Come, I was just showing Jared the blueprints for our house. They came in yesterday, but our prison-guard of a doctor wouldn’t let me take them out. I know he’s listening, so I guess it’s all right, now.”

“Yes, Noah. The alternative was shackling you to the bed.” Quint’s long suffering sigh came from the living room. “And as tempting as that may be, it would do more damage than good. If you push yourself too far, I’ll just knock you out for a few days. I really am fine with any option at this point.”

Coming in behind Jamie, Wren looked a little confused. “That certainly wasn’t in the section of how to treat difficult patients. Maybe I need to order a newer addition?” He glanced at the blueprints. “Is that a dollhouse Curtis is building for the…baby? Your mother is having one. I don’t remember if it’s been identified as a particular designation.”

“Gender.” Looking very pleased with himself for having known a word that he believed Wren didn’t, Jamie piped up, coming to Noah’s side of the bed. “No, it’s a real house, Wren.” He draped his arm around Wren’s shoulders in a loose hug, leaning in to examine the dark blue lines on the light blue paper. “Where’s the library, sir?”

Noah tapped his finger on a section that seemed to stretch across a good portion of the back end of the house, around the kitchen, then up to a second level. “Right here. Todd is already putting books away to make sure I have plenty to fill it up. Sometimes he gets donations for the library that charities and shelters won’t accept, but the library already has copies. So he’s giving those to me. Of course, I’ll be buying more. Doubles of everything I have here.”

“Oh, that is a relief, sir. You’re building a house to have a bigger library.” Wren nodded, patting Jamie’s hand, then coming around the bed to slip into it at Jared’s side. “That seems a bit excessive, but I won’t question your judgment, sir. Libraries are very nice to have. I’d like to see Todd’s, one day. When all the children he and Tracey always say love the place are…elsewhere.”

“Does that mean...” Jamie chewed his bottom lip.

“No. It doesn’t.” Jared leaned forward, ignoring the pain in his ribs, to gently prise Jamie’s lip from his teeth. “We’ll visit even if you have twelve children.”

Noah chuckled, curving his arm around Jamie’s waist to tuck him close to his side. “I will need more details about exactly what’s expected of me in the fertility clinic, but that will be…an experience. And Jared made a good point. Multiples are apparently pretty common.”

“Jamie’s having a baby?” Wren shook his head, his brow furrowing. “Sir, I believe I should start reading both you and him some of my medical books. Jamie does not have the right…parts for that. Though if he wanted to change that…well, the science isn’t there, but I’d fully support it. I don’t think you can have children and just leave them at the library. House. Place. The small ones need more care than cats.”

“Meow.”

Jared frowned at the door. That didn’t sound like L.D. Or a cat. At all. 

Sticking her head in, much as Jamie had done, Ana grinned at them all. “I lost all my teeth! Wanna see, Wren?”

“Absolutely. Did you bring them?” Wren smiled at the little girl, beckoning her over. “I’ll have to speak to Keiran, but I think you’ll likely be on a liquid diet for some time. Which doesn’t need to be unpleasant. You can also have Jell-O. All of Reed’s recent orders have been confiscated.”

Avery came in, not far behind, looking apologetic. “Hey. Sorry. I was supposed to take over for Quint for a bit, but...” He lightly tugged Ana’s long braid, which had darkened over the past year. “You’re supposed to knock, munchkin.”

“I did. L.D. style.” The s’s in Ana’s words were a cute lisp, both of her front teeth missing. She opened her mouth wide, pointing to the gap. “See? Tracey says I’m a toothless wonder!”

Wren tilted his head to one side. “But you still have teeth. I’ll have to adapt your diet. I suppose you can chew on some things. But just giving you a bottle would be practical. Do you still use bottles?”

Laughing like Wren had told the funniest joke in the history of jokes, Ana collapsed backward on the bed just shy of the blueprints. “Nope. But one time we came by and there was a man in the bar who had one. He had a funny hat and talked in a foreign language. Tracey said we got here on the wrong day. But I don’t know what that means. We were here, so why couldn’t it be the right one?” She frowned, then pouted. “That day sucked balls.”

“You got a haircut, that doesn’t make it a bad day, little bit.” Rhodey came into the room, swooping Ana off the bed and over his shoulder. “And it was just the deadends. But you went on like you were being tortured.” He tickled her. “Do you want to know what being tortured really feels like?”

“Promises, promises.” Ana repeated the phrase like she’d heard it somewhere before—possibly from Jared himself. “Uncle Rhodey, are you going to marry my brother and make babies, too? I heard Uncle Noah and Uncle Jamie talking about how they don’t have the ’quipment, and Uncle Wren wants to experiment.”

Rhodey huffed out a laugh. “Ownership papers with the government? Fuck no. But if your brother wants a pretty ring, I’ll get him twenty. And if he wants babies? I’ll have him spend a day in a nursery to fix that.” He swung Ana around, kissing her cheek before he planted her on her feet in front of him. “I’m a practical man.”

“Where’s your uncle’s room in this mansion?” Jared waved vaguely at the blueprints—several pages thick, not all of which he’d yet seen. “Do Lawson and Curtis have a wing?”

Before Noah even had a chance to answer, Rhodey huffed and nudged Ana toward her brother. “Go bring the tiny terror down to the galley and let Keiran fill her up with sugar so I can say I’m being a good uncle.” He waited until they’d left the room before giving the blueprints a dry look. “There’s a guest room. And it’s a ‘farmhouse’ according to my nephew. But yes, it’s going to be pretty fucking big. Might take years to build.”

“It won’t.” Noah scowled at his uncle. “The estimate is for at most three years.”

Shrugging, Rhodey caught Jared’s eye. “Sure. But things happen. And baby-making? You don’t just pop ‘em in the oven. It’s complicated.”

“There is…no oven involved.” Wren began stealthily gathering the books from the bed and arranging them on the side table. “But there should be parenting classes. For everyone. I read over some policies Lawson was looking at from a local politician. He said that was intrusive and unenforceable. I’m not sure I understand why. It would eliminate so many problems. And why wouldn’t people volunteer? Unfortunately, babies aren’t born with appropriate paperwork. A serious flaw.”

“Between baby batter and ovens...and buns in them, I’m surprised I ever learned to understand the English language, much less read it.” Jamie snuck under the covers, sidling up to Noah and lifting his arm very gently to cuddle with him.

“Idioms do complicate things.” Jared counted down from three, only getting to two before Jamie fulfilled his expectations with his response.

“I’m not an idiot.”

“Just so, little tribble.” Jared smirked to himself, then winked at Noah.

Looking between them, Noah shook his head. “‘Idiom’, little cat. Not idiot. It’s a…turn of phrase.” He took a deep breath, shifting his focus to Wren, keeping that careful balance he always did. “Yes, parenting courses would be good for many, and I’ll definitely be taking them, my little bird. But forcing people to do so? You run into a lot of problems. Making them easier to access would be ideal. Letting people have time off to dedicate to their children. Not forcing anyone to follow inflexible rules when…some of the best parenting needs that kind of flexibility. I learned that with Reed and Ezran.”

“You’re going to make an amazing dad. I never saw a good one before Rhodey.” Jamie made the observation as he gazed adoringly up at Noah.

If someone had uttered that phrase in front of Jared ten years ago he would’ve had them drug tested. “I suppose he has turned out to be one. It helps to get a child who suits you. Like Reed and Ezran suited Noah. Not all situations turn out quite so well.”

“No. And babies don’t have personalities. They’re just…very hungry. And cry a lot.” Wren pursed his lips. “And there is a section in my medical books about their…leavings. Perhaps cats are not so bad. You should get more of those instead. A tiny human should go to people who…have a lot of time on their hands. And infinite patience. Jamie, you once forgot you were at Matt’s café and tapped your watch. And I don’t know what he took you in the back to do, but if another sub spanked you it should tell you something. Though, maybe he didn’t. He is a very complicated man. He likes your lips and your…bottom. But sometimes says he wants to shut you up. That’s…strange.”

Midway in taking a sip from his water bottle, Noah choked. Then pressed his hand to his side. “Babies are not science experiments, my little bird. When you commit to them, you commit to everything that comes with them. Jamie is patient with his students. He’s good with kids.”

Wren gave him a doubtful look. “They can walk. And relieve themselves in a proper manner. But I won’t question your judgment, sir. I’m sure you both could…make a child.”

One of Jared’s favorite things about Quint and Wren, both, was their ability to deftly tell you exactly what they thought with such subtlety that it took at least several seconds—more if you were in fact an idiot—to tell that you’d been put in your place. “The real question is, what if it turns out to have Noah’s features and coloring, and Jamie’s size? Or vice versa? Can you imagine a Jamie who is Noah-sized?”

One of the things that was more difficult? Was when one of his subs aimed that kind of ‘tact’ his way. Quint could pull it off without him catching it much too often.

Wren, however, had learned from Noah not to pull his punches. “Why would I, sir? At this point, that’s medically impossible, which I hope you’re aware of. If the baby looks like Noah, it will have features from whoever will donate the…egg.” Wren seemed to choose his words so Jamie could easily follow. “They will cry. And demand time and energy neither has ever had to experience even their greatest challenges demanding from them.” He tilted his head to one side. “I hope this goes well for you. Please do not ask me to be a godparent. You may not die and leave this infant to me and Jared. Also, I will babysit L.D. before I will take care of your offspring. Other details will be left to further negotiations.”

Jamie snickered, whispering to himself like he recalled a fond memory. “Are we negotiating?”

“I think so.” Noah’s lips curved as he reached across Jared to cup Wren’s cheek. “Will you safeword if I ask you to hold little Elrond?”

The affronted gasp Jamie let out brought his head up. “You are not naming our child a cross of that Scientologist name and a character from the Jetsons!”

Noah blinked at him. “What? Elrond is one of the leaders of the elves in Lord of the Rings. It’s a very dignified name.”

From the doorway Curtis coughed. “Not if you’re watching Lord of the Cockrings. The character’s name is Bigrod.”

“Maybe you should see if you can agree to a name before you mix the batter?” Reed was up on his tiptoes, resting his chin on Curtis’ shoulder. “Gollum isn’t a bad name either. So. Many. Options.”

“Why not Gandalf? Or even Frodo?” Getting in on the game, Jared settled more comfortably into the pillows behind his back, pulling Wren with him and indulging himself with a cuddle, as Curtis drew Reed with him into the room.

“Jamie’s going to say it sounds like Fritos.” Arm in a sling, Curtis lowered himself to the reading chair, nearly falling out of it when there was a scream and a hiss from L.D. who turned into a giant white hairball and flew out of the room. 

Reed stood by Curtis’ side, resting his arm around his Dom’s shoulders. “True. And imagine the press. Fritos Kent, born at whatever time, both his fathers kinda looking at him like an alien has landed.”

Still just outside of the doorway, speaking to Quint—likely talking him down from not allowing so many visitors—Rhodey snorted. “Leonov, tiny second nephew. Or whatever you are. I’m glad you were out of diapers before I had to step in to take care of you. That would've been weird, you climbing out of a window and all.”

“Not naming Calliope Zither after a snack food.” Jamie stuck his tongue out at Curtis, who pretended to grab it from across the room.

Noah looked a bit like Jamie had thrown cold water in his face. “Did you just put letters together at random, little cat? Because… Yeah, I think Reed has a point. We need to come up with a list of names we both like.”

“But…” Wren wrinkled his nose. “You’re naming cells. That already have names because they’re cells. Why would anyone do that?”

Creeping in past Rhodey, Danny looked over everyone in the room. Then let out a relieved sigh. “The cards were wrong. And so were you, Jamie. I knew Noah and Jared wouldn’t strangle each other, being stuck in bed. But it was a very close call. Why are we talking about cells? Does…someone need to grow a body part? Wren said that was still fiction. We’re going to have evil clones.”

“I would sincerely enjoy seeing what your evil clone looked and behaved like, little Despereaux.” Kissing the top of Wren’s head, Jared whispered, “Zygote Blastoid,” just to see if he could make him crack a smile. 

Not only did he manage it, but Wren burst out laughing even as he beckoned Danny closer. He untied the string Danny always wore around his wrist, the one Wren had given him, and moved it to his neck as Danny settled down beside the bed. “I think that would be the ultimate goal, sir.” He petted Danny’s hair. “Everyone is well, tiny mouseling.” Wren seemed to test out the new nickname on his tongue. Then gave a satisfied nod. “We are apparently reproducing. But we’ll make sure none are part of the undead. Because I know you will want to babysit. For some strange reason.”

“Uncle Danny has a nice ring to it.” Toying with the edge of Noah’s pajama bottoms, Jamie traced over his Dom’s happy trail then followed the line of his abs up to the bandage and back down again.

“How many uncles can one baby have?” Looking around the room as he asked the question, Jared couldn’t help meeting Rhodey’s eyes as he wondered what any child who was blessed with so many people to love them might feel.

Rhodey held his gaze and two things became perfectly clear. He had no intention of letting this happen. But he’d allow them to enjoy the fantasy for the moment. And it took all the diplomatic skills he’d learned as a merc to answer. “One baby will have many uncles. And all the love and care we wished we could have had. There’s two other kids who already do.” His expression softened. “Don’t forget, Coal calls you ‘Uncle Jared’.”

Jared’s smile tightened the corners of his eyes. “And I love hearing it.”

They might or might not ever have a baby at The Asylum, and some things were unknowable until they occurred. What was abundantly clear, however, as Jared looked around at the men he loved? Wherever the future took them, as long as they were together?

This, The Asylum, and what they’d built within?

Would always be the place they called home.