The Delaneys At Home (3 page)

"Come here," Johnny said, holding out his arms, and I didn't need telling again. "This is quite difficult for you, isn't it?"

Head pressed against the warmth of his shoulder as it was, replying was tricky, but I was always up for a challenge. "Yes, sir. Because this time it's not just sex, is it? Or being in love or any of that kind of stuff. This time it's something else. Which is terrifying, but exciting, too, and I want to work it out with you both, however weird it is or off-the wall."

At least that's what I was trying to say, but I wasn't sure how much of my impassioned mumble Johnny managed to hear. Not that it really mattered as he kept on hugging me and making comforting noises, and maybe this was all I needed.

"Okay," he said after a little while longer. "Time to get sorted. Who's to say what my brother will do if we're not in bed by the time he gets back."

Who indeed? Tempting though the prospect of Mark's displeasure and subsequent punishment was, I decided discretion probably was the better part of valor so undressed while Johnny brushed his teeth in the ensuite. By the time he emerged, I was stark naked under the covers and as near to the middle of the futon as I could get. As I didn't know which side each twin slept on, I thought I should be prepared for all eventualities.

Johnny was wearing pajamas. Not just any old supermarket brand, buy-one-get-one-pair-free, but cream silk pajamas with his initials embroidered across one shoulder. I'd never been one for any sort of clothes in bed, but I had to say they suited him. However, I swear it was the surprise made me laugh. At this unfortunate reaction, Johnny raised his eyebrow at me, a gesture that dampened my response, but didn't entirely kill it.

"What?" he said. "Don't you know it's all about the branding?"

That only made it worse, and a moment later, I was writhing with laughter on the bed, all exhaustion forgotten, and with Johnny beating me with one of the pillows. Even though he was laughing, too, I clocked the fact that punishment, of any kind, wasn't just the responsibility of his twin. Definitely something to bear in mind for the future, assuming I survived the pillow abuse.

By the time Mark returned, Johnny and I were giggling like children after way too much ice cream.

"What the hell are you two up to?" He stood in the doorway, gloriously naked except for the towel slung over his shoulder, and doing nothing to hide his cock. Not that he'd probably been intending to, but still I couldn't help drooling.

"Discussing pajamas," Johnny said, thankfully throwing the pillow to one side. "I don't think Liam liked mine."

Mark nodded, took a couple of steps inside and pushed the door shut behind him. "Can't say I blame him. The boy's got taste. Anyway, what's the point of pajamas?"

He had no argument from me, on any count. Mark slipped into bed--on the right, I noted--while I made use of a spare toothbrush in Johnny's bathroom and washed my face before going back to bed.

Mark gestured me in next to him and nodded his approval. He obviously liked men with damp faces and minty breath. Then again, who didn't? Or, hell, maybe he just liked me. Now there was a thought, one to hold on to, come what may. As I settled myself down, Johnny turned off the light and slipped in behind me, as it were, gently pushing me sideways until he was spooning me, his chest against my back and his legs wrapping round mine. I found myself lying against Mark, wedged deliciously between the two men like the jam in a sandwich.

Some jam. Some sandwich.

The universe being what it was, and even in spite of the fact the twins were going to bed at an earlier time than usual, they were both asleep within minutes, whereas by then my prick had woken up and was looking around to see where the action was. No hope there. The action lay in Johnny's soft snore reverberating in my ear and the steady sound of Mark's grinding teeth.

Obviously wound-up from the pillow fight, I ignored my inquisitive cock and fought the urge to giggle again. Not a very macho response, but I don't think I knew how to do those anyway and now probably wasn't the time to try.

Instead, I stared out into the darkness and tried to work out exactly how I'd managed to get myself into this position and whether I could possibly patent the amount of good fortune I was currently enjoying and sell it to anyone who might need a little blessing from Lady Luck. I'd be more than willing to share it, though anyone out there could expect a fight if they thought I'd be willing to share the Delaneys as well. And, as the twins had been quick to discover, I wasn't a fighting man.

I had other ways of getting results and there was no harm in that. In the words of that great gay role model La Barrowman,
I am what I am
, and I was bloody well proud of it.

Besides, with the money I made from my devious patenting plan, maybe I could one day open my own gallery, with the support of Melissa, and even...

No, best not to get into the realms of fantasy. I was happy with the way my life was, wasn't I? So why think about changing it? Oh, yes, I was one very happy bloke.

This was the last thought in my head before I gave in to the sleep tugging at my mind.

The next thing I knew, there was a crash and a shout, which dragged me from the misty arms of a pretty spicy dream involving a beach ball, a set of Lego, and the Delaneys. My recent reading matter must have been influencing me more than I thought.

"Wha'? Whassamatter?" I mumbled, sitting upright and waving my arms around in an effort to find the light switch.

"Stay
down,
Liam," came Johnny's hissed command as light finally flooded the bedroom, though I suspected this was his action rather than mine.

At once, I slid back against the pillow and gazed out at the scene confronting me. Johnny was kneeling on the futon, staring with a kind of fierce concentration into the room. Rather more worrying than this was the fact he was also holding a gun, which looked pretty deadly to me.

"Oh shit."

"Shut up," he said, offering me the barest glance only, his aim reassuringly steady. Then, "Who's there? Show yourself.
Now.
"

There was an achingly long moment during which nothing happened, and I couldn't even think about my life, let alone have it flashing before my eyes, and then Mark's voice broke the silence.

"It's me, Johnny, and for God's sake, stay cool and put away the gun."

With that, his face arose from the floor next to the bed like Venus arising from the waves, but a more masculine version, and glared at both of us. Which even I thought was rather unfair, as whatever was going on was surely nothing to do with me.

"Sorry," Johnny said and lowered his weapon before placing it under the pillow. "What just happened?"

Oh, hell. If I'd known the gun was there, I wouldn't have been quite so eager to leap into bed as I had been earlier. Living with the twins was certainly going to be a dangerous sport, even more than I'd imagined.

"Nothing happened. Nothing that needs an armed response anyway, little brother. God knows why you're so trigger-happy. Thank goodness you have me to keep you in line. And what
happened
was that Liam kicked me out of bed, so I'll need to add that particular misdemeanor to his punishment list."

Had I? Obviously, the caution I'd been learning in my dealings with the Delaneys hadn't yet filtered down to my feet, and I was out of bed and kneeling before Johnny could even
think
about picking up the gun again.

"Sorry, sir," I said, head bowed and wondering if there really was a punishment list and, if so, if I could steal a glance at it at some point. "I had no idea. Please forgive me, I'm sorry."

Behind me, Johnny chuckled. "I don't think it was deliberate."

"I know." Mark sighed and stood so his shadow towered over me, "Even so, in our business, we can't let anyone get away with anything. It's the slippery slope toward anarchy and God knows what. Standards are everything."

"Yes, I realize," was Johnny's response, "but the bed's too small for the three of us. We'll have to buy another."

Mark glared at his brother and then down at me. He leaned forward, resting his hands on my shoulders, bringing my mouth into the perfect position for his cock. Whatever he might have said to Johnny was lost forever as I took advantage of this opportunity and drew my tongue down his length.

"
Jesus
, Liam." Mark stepped back. "You pick your moments, don't you?"

I couldn't resist giving him a cheeky grin. "Just saying sorry for the small bed, sir."

He snorted. "Oh yes, very funny. But you need to remember one thing, Liam."

"What's that?"

"Don't push it."

"No, sir." I barely breathed my response. "Never."

With hierarchy restored and Johnny's enthusiasm disarmed, we bundled ourselves back into bed and settled down for sleep once more.

Just before I finally drifted off, Mark nudged me.

"Sir?"

"Just one thing, Liam. If you kick me out of bed again, I'll give Johnny full permission to shoot you. Understood?"

"Understood, sir."

* * * *

For a variety of reasons, all of them more than valid, I was ten minutes late for work at the gallery the following morning. Melissa was already in and gave me a challenging stare as I stumbled through the front door and tried to make a quiet entry into the fray. This proved more difficult as she was sitting in my office rather than her own.

"Ah, hello, Melissa. Sorry I'm late. I was... I was ..." The picture of what I actually had been doing, which had made me late in the first place, flashed up in my head and I found myself giving the boss a rather goofy smile.

She groaned and waved her hand. "For God's sake, whatever you do, please don't finish the sentence. I'm not sure my blood pressure could take it."

"There's nothing wrong with your blood pressure, is there?"

"Not yet, but by the look on your face it's only a matter of time. I gather the move to the mansion went well then?"

I pulled up a chair opposite, leaned back and gave what even I had to admit was a very self-satisfied sigh. "Oh yes. This morning was especially good, though there was a bit of an issue last night about the size of the bed and Johnny's gun, but it was all smoothed over this morning. Which. Was.
Perfect.
If you know what I mean."

Melissa rolled her eyes, stood and straightened her hair, while I admired the elegant tailoring of her pale green suit. Nothing off-the-peg there, I was sure of it.

"I'm hoping the gun isn't a euphemism," she said.

I shook my head. "Oh no, it was real alright. But it was a misunderstanding, that's all. We just need a bigger bed. I don't suppose manufacturers normally think of any more than two people sharing, do they?"

My boss laughed. "No, I don't suppose they do. But, between you and the Delaneys, I'm sure you'll set the world of bed-making to rights."

I certainly hoped so because tonight I wasn't planning any more pistol action if I could possibly help it.

For the rest of the day, Melissa and I dealt with clients, sorted out two new exhibitions for the summer and tried to plan our Christmas extravaganza. In all honesty, we'd been planning this for weeks, but it always took a hell of a lot of negotiation, as painters could be a fussy bunch. One day we'd think we were there and the next we'd be back at the start again. It was worth doing, though, as a lot of business and arty networking happened over the holiday season and, as my father kept on telling me, you couldn't put a price on goodwill.

Today, my will--and indeed everything else about me--was pretty damn good. Maybe it was to do with recent sexual shenanigans, but there was also something about the fact that tonight I would be going home, not to my own company, but to be with the twins. Every time I thought of it, a zing of expectation shot through my gut and a couple of times I caught myself humming. Not the best thing to do in any gallery where concentration and quiet is all, and Melissa soon put a stop to it with a quick harrumph.

Funny how she and the Delaneys both had the ability to put me back on track without the use of words. I was obviously drawn to similar types, though the main thought occupying my head for most of the rest of the day was how quickly I could make the evening and my first real home-time arrive.

It arrived even before I anticipated it. At the stroke of four-thirty, the front door opened and Mark sauntered in, with Johnny close behind. They brought with them the freshness of the outside world and a whole lot of attitude. Mark nodded at Melissa, who nodded back, and then he gave me a slow smile, which couldn't help but startle my cock into action.

Before I could say anything remotely sociable, he stepped right up to me where I hovered by one of the gallery's newer acquisitions, grabbed me by the shirt and plunged his tongue deep into my mouth. I'd opened it to greet the twins in words, but this was as good an alternative as any, so I grabbed Mark back and sucked for all I was worth.

With Mark more than a little off balance, probably due to my enthusiasm, I shuffled us both along until we reached Johnny, whose arse I grabbed for a quick grope to let him know I was paying close attention to them both.

We were just getting into the whole scenario when Melissa cleared her throat. She was far too glamorous to cough.

"Mark, Johnny," she said. "Lovely to see you. I'm assuming you're not here to buy any paintings?"

Johnny chuckled as he extricated himself from my exploratory hand, and Mark slowly and reluctantly withdrew from my plundered mouth.

"If we were, you'd be the first one I called," he said. "But I'm here to ask you a question. Liam distracted me."

As if they were of one mind, the twins and Melissa all looked at me, as if I'd done something terrible in waylaying Mark from his original mission. Whereas, I'd have thought it was very much the other way round. Still, I put on my best cheeky grin, which was, after all, very much how I was feeling.

"Well," I said. "I
never
say no to distractions."

This time, Johnny laughed out loud, and Melissa snorted. "I couldn't possibly comment, but at least when you're not distracted, you're a damn hard worker. I'll say that for you."