Far Beyond the Stars (6/6)
Brendon spends most of the weekend contacting his former clients and replenishing his wardrobe. It’s strange, building a wardrobe for the business world rather than for the Companion life. Brendon had never thought of how his clothing defined him, but when he dresses Monday morning in his business suit he longs for something made of brocade, and jewels on his fingers.
The Sihnon office of Blue Sun is in the heart of Madrassa, mirrored façade gleaming in the sunlight. Brendon has passed the building many times throughout his adult life, but hasn’t stepped foot inside since before being sent to the training house.
Things are hectic within the building, with the recent allegations against Brendon’s father regarding his involvement on Miranda. He’s already facing civil and criminal charges, but despite that, the company is still flourishing, though now scrambling to make sure no other scandals are aired.
There is a meeting of the board of directors after lunch, and Brendon arrives early to speak to his father. The President’s office is at the top of the building, on the 80th floor, and has windows on all sides, looking out on the majesty of the Great City.
Boyd Urie is seated at his desk, having an argument with his computer screen when Brendon arrives. He jabs a finger at the mute button and shouts, “I said no one was to interrupt,” before doing a double take and staring at Brendon in disbelief. “Brendon. What are you doing here, dressed like that?”
“It’s good to see you, too, Father,” Brendon says, smiling wryly. “Do you have a moment?”
“I’m about to go into a meeting of the board of directors,” his father says. He reaches to unmute his call.
Brendon crosses to stand before his desk. “I know. That’s why I’m here.”
“Brendon,” his father says, with exasperation, “not that I’m not delighted to see you, but it’s been over two years, and you can’t just stroll in here and expect me to drop everything for you.”
“Father, I’m merely trying to-”
“After the meeting,” his father interrupts, making a shooing motion to the door.
Brendon does not take any pleasure in creating a scene, but if that is how his father wishes to do things, Brendon will humour him. He has, over the past several days, wondered if he can go through with this. But after even so brief a meeting with his father, he knows there really is no other choice.
Brendon is familiar with a great many of the directors, having slept with most of them at one time or another. Those with whom he has been in contact over the past few days give him knowing looks and nods of approval when he enters the boardroom and takes his seat.
When Boyd enters, he doesn’t even make note of Brendon, going straight to the head of the table. He doesn’t look like a man concerned about his impending trials, and that more than anything gives Brendon the conviction to do what he must.
“Alright,” his father begins, as the directors fall silent, “the first order of business today-”
“I’m sorry,” Brendon says, rising to his feet. His father gives him an incredulous look and Brendon clears his throat and looks away from him. “However before we discuss anything else, there are a few issues I would like to present to the board.”
From the corner of his eye, Brendon can see Boyd cross his arms over his chest, and knows his father is attempting to contain is fury. “If there is something you would like to discuss, it can wait for later,” he says, tone measured.
Brendon inclines his head. “I’m sorry, but I believe, as majority share holder, that I am due the right to speak my piece before the board.” When he looks, his father’s lips are pressed together so tightly they’ve gone white. “And before we continue, I would like to get the formalities out of the way.”
“Specifically,” he continues, when his father remains silent, “the vote to officially remove President Urie from his position, as well as the appointment of a new Chief Executive Officer.”
“You can’t do this,” his father says, expression stony.
“I’m afraid I can,” Brendon tells him. “You really should have known better than to go public with the company, particularly with so many gruesome skeletons in the closet. If you had asked for my advice before doing so, you might not be in the mess you’re in now.
“Given the recent publicity surrounding Blue Sun’s involvement with the incident on the Miranda colony, I believe a new face in management will help the public come to trust us again, and I think my fellow board members would agree. It’s just business, father.”
The vote goes precisely how Brendon planned; even without the assistance of his clients on the board, he possesses a large enough portion of the shares to force the change himself. It looks better this way, though, a nearly unanimous agreement to fire Boyd, rather than his spoiled and ungrateful son doing the job alone.
Aside from the scene with his father, the meeting goes smoothly, with the board agreeing to disclose the classified information regarding the Paxilon Hydroclorate to the courts, and Brendon leaves feeling lighter than he has in a very long time.
There are still many issues to resolve. He is not so naïve as to think the Pax was the only secret his father was keeping. Blue Sun has spread too far out into the galaxy with too many distant, shadowy operations, and now it’s up to him to hunt them all down and right all the wrongs.
He will meet with his siblings once the situation with the Prime Minister has been settled; he remains hopeful that they will agree with him about the new direction of the company. Brendon would prefer to work with them, rather than against them.
In the elevator down, his father corners him, pressing the button to halt the car. “Do you honestly think that I’ll let you get away with this?” he demands.
“I’ve already gotten away with it,” Brendon says, fighting the urge to put his head in his hand. “I wish you would have allowed me to discuss it with you in private. I did not want to embarrass you in front of the board.”
“I’ll fight this,” Boyd whispers. “You have no idea what you’re doing. You think I’d let you of all my children take my place.”
Brendon lets out a sigh, reaching past his father to restart the lift. “Yes, Father, I know very well your opinion of my worth. But do you know, I couldn’t have done this if it weren’t for you. If I hadn’t received the Companion training I did, I’d never had made the connections I did with my clients.”
He shrugs, unable to keep the smugness from his voice when he adds, “I expect that wasn’t exactly the result you had in mind, when you sent me away.”
Boyd smacks him, the back of his hand catching Brendon across the cheek hard enough to split his lip. The pain is shockingly hot and dull, and Brendon presses his fingers to where it throbs, wiping the blood away, hoping his expression conveys how deeply unimpressed he is.
“If you touch me again, I’ll break your wrist,” he says, very calmly.
His father takes a threatening step forward and the lift opens on the ground floor. Brendon brushes past into the lobby, his father fast on his heels. He grabs Brendon’s arm in a tight grip, jerking him back towards the empty offices behind the bank of elevators. Brendon waits until they are out of sight to take his father’s wrist and twist, freeing himself and forcing Boyd’s fist back at a sharp angle.
“They taught us how to protect ourselves from piece of gǒushǐ hùndàn at the training house, too,” Brendon hisses. He releases his father and steps back. He takes a calming breath and wishes he had on his own clothing, to draw around him protectively.
“I’m sorry that it had to come to this. I honestly wish things were different,” Brendon says. He side steps around his father and heads for the doors. His steps are even; he refuses to hurry.
He doesn’t realise he’s shaking until he’s outside, Frank’s limousine waiting at the curb. Gerard is iside and envelopes him in a warm hug once the driver has closed the door behind him.
“I’m alright,” Brendon says, and is surprised that he means it.
“The Guild would have his head, if they saw your face right now,” Gerard tsks, gently touching at Brendon’s swollen mouth.
Brendon laughs and winces at the pressure of Gerard’s fingers. “I think a black mark in the registry is the last of my father’s concerns, right now. And the Guild isn’t going to be very happy with me when I resign next week, anyway.”
“Which has absolutely nothing to do with the reason you’re not sleeping with any of the clients you’re meeting this week,” Gerard says, with an entirely too knowing smirk.
“It has to do with the fact that Guild law forbids me from being President of Blue Sun,” Brendon tells him firmly.
In fact, it has a great deal to do with the meeting he hopes to arrange after all this business with Parliament and Blue Sun is over. He will never be ashamed by what he has done in his role as a Companion, but as his time with the Guild draws to an end, for the first time in his life, Brendon has been able to consider what he wants for himself. And what he wants might be fantastic and ridiculous, and downright terrifying. It doesn’t stop him from hoping for it. For wanting them.
“Uh huh…” Gerard taps a thoughtful finger against his pursed lips, as though he can read Brendon’s thoughts. Then he lets it drop, for now. “Mikey has asked you to come to dinner on Londinium, on Thursday. He wants for the younger Mister Ross to meet you.”
Brendon can’t help but let his shock show on his face, and Gerard is astute, interest piqued at once. “Is that-really necessary, before the vote?” Brendon stutters. He hasn’t had time to consider precisely what he will say, and Spencer and Ryan are no doubt still angry with him.
“Oh, now I think it is,” Gerard says gleefully.
Brendon’s stomach seizes in anticipation. New public persona be damned, he needs his own clothing for this meeting.
*
The only thing Ryan looks forward to for the entire week following his meeting with the Privy is bedtime with Spencer. The rest of his time is spent in meeting after meeting with various of the Peers and other government officials, explaining where he’s been the past seven years and why he is not only ready, but qualified to take his father’s position.
It’s disconcerting, the way that many of the Lords and Ladies he meets already seem to know about him. It’s as if they’ve already made up their minds one way or another and just want to see him, or something. He supposes it is probably because of Gerard’s people, working to garner the necessary votes for a supermajority, but it still makes Ryan uncomfortable.
In the evenings there are dinners at the Way Manor. Alicia has many friends among the Londinium elite; though they have no vote at Parliament, they do have influence over some of the Peers, and they are eager to meet with Ryan as well.
Ryan would prefer to dine in the casual dining hall with the crew of the Nevada. He only sees them occasionally throughout the week, only in passing, as they roam the grounds. Patrick has made himself at home in the library; Jon, Vicky, and Zack spend their afternoons exploring the hidden treasures of the gardens and forest.
Pete hangs about Alicia and Mikey as they go about their daily work, learning all he can. Perhaps the thing that brings Ryan the most pleasure about this whole affair is the fact that if he is appointed, he can give Pete what he lost fighting as an Independent in the war. Once Ryan is in office, his first step will be to grant full citizenship to all Independents, and his second will be to appoint Pete to office, where he was so obviously born to be.
Spencer is a quiet and reassuring presence throughout the week, always at Ryan’s side. There is no question where anyone is concerned that Spencer will be appointed to the Privy if Ryan is appointed to Prime Minister. Spencer likes to protest that he isn’t skilled in politics, which might be true, but he is honest and fearless, and Ryan can trust him implicitly to carry out his job honourably, which matters far more than cunning.
In the evenings, when they retire, Spencer is still there, but different, out of sight of the others, all devious grins and searching hands. Ryan almost doesn’t miss Brendon then, when they’re rolling in their sheets. Maybe it’s easier with just the two of them-there’s no question of how to choreograph their movements-but Ryan can’t help but wonder how it might be with a third set of lips, or hands.
Never could Ryan have dreamed it would be as easy as it is to make this transition from best friends to lovers. Even with the tension and jealousy between them Ryan has never been more comfortable with anyone else-before meeting Brendon-than with Spencer. Without it, Ryan is confident in a way he’s never been, like he might actually win this gorram election.
Ryan had no idea things would move so quickly, once he arrived, but by Thursday morning the House of Lords is already talking about passing down judgement on the impeachment. He still keeps expecting to wake up stranded on the space station to find out this has all been some crazy dream brought on by Brendon’s sedative.
Mikey announces yet another grand dinner for Gerard and his connections that have been campaigning for Ryan among the Peers. Ryan is incredibly grateful, he is, but he’s dying for a casual evening with his friends. He has a sinking feeling that it won’t be until after the election that such an opportunity will be afforded him, and that even then it will be a rarity.
“Come on,” Spencer says with a smile, when they’re dressing for dinner. “It’ll be nice to see Gerard again.”
“Yes,” Ryan concedes. He’s just a bit concerned with being surrounded by Gerard’s friends, most of them likely to be Companions. Before Brendon, Ryan didn’t really have an opinion about them one way or another, but now he would rather not have to deal with them, until some more time has passed.
Spencer looks really good in his tuxedo, and Ryan would rather stay in his room, but Mikey knocks on the door, calling them out. Ryan lets out a sigh and resigns himself to the evening, and goes to answer.
“Most of the guests will be arriving within the hour, but Gee’s just gotten here, and there’s someone I really want the two of you to meet,” Mikey tells them, as he leads them to the first floor lounge.
Gerard rises to greet them when they enter, giving them both warm hugs, and introduces his lover, Frank, who shakes their hands with honest interest. Their guest is at the window, dressed in a bold red choli embroidered in gold, tied at the neck and midriff, leaving his back and waistline bare. Even without seeing his face, Ryan knows it’s Brendon.
“This is Brendon Urie, President of Blue Sun,” Mikey introduces and Ryan feels his own jaw drop at the same moment Spencer sucks in a shocked breath. Somewhere in the corner of his mind, Ryan knew that the youngest Urie was a Companion, but it hadn’t ever seemed relevant. Now Ryan can’t believe he missed it.
“Spencer,” Brendon greets, turning. “Ryan.”
“What are you doing here?” Spencer demands, striding forward. Ryan sees the way Brendon sways towards him, the way Spencer seems to strain against reaching out.
“I would think that should be obvious,” Brendon murmurs, blasé.
Spencer grabs him by the arm and gives him a shake. “Don’t you know what you put at risk?” he demands, jerking his head towards Ryan. “Don’t you know who he is?”
Brendon looks up at Spencer with cold eyes, but Ryan notices the tremor in his voice when he speaks. “He’s no one, unless I get him elected,” he whispers, pulling his arm free. “My presence is as necessary as his own.”
“You could have told us,” Spencer says, voice rough. He looks like he wants to grab Brendon again. “We would have-”
“Told you,” Brendon echoes, “the way you told me who you were?”
“Spence.” Ryan steps forward to lay a hand on his arm. He is distantly aware of Gerard leading Mikey and Frank from the room.
“If there is one thing I cannot abide, it’s hypocrisy,” Brendon says. “I don’t see how you can recognise the need for your own anonymity and deny me mine.”
“You just ran off with William,” Spencer says, apropos nothing. “You didn’t bother to explain anything, just went off to have sex with him and Gabe.”
“It’s my job,” Brendon nearly shouts.
Spencer snorts and turns away, running a hand through his hair.
Ryan doesn’t know what to say, caught between confusion and understanding. “Urie,” he says. “That’s what Marshall was going to say. Why you stopped him.”
“I’m not proud of what my family did, and I didn’t relish lying to you, but I’m sure you can understand my urgency, now.” Brendon still won’t meet his gaze, staring instead at the rug beneath his feet.
Ryan’s been done with anger for days, waiting impatiently for all this political nonsense to be over so that he could try to find Brendon, and now here he is, and Ryan can’t find the words he wants.
So he acts instead, stepping forward and closing the space between them. Hand wrapping around Brendon’s neck, Ryan pulls him close and bends his head to meet Brendon’s lips. Brendon lets out a startled sound. He stumbles into Ryan. His hands catch on Ryan’s chest and his fingers clench in the fabric of Ryan’s shirt. Brendon doesn’t kiss like someone who has been trained to-he responds only hesitantly, mouth unsure.
Kissing Brendon is unlike kissing Spencer, with all his warmth and familiarity. Brendon is a puzzle, and Ryan gets the impression it will take a long time to figure him out.
He slicks his tongue along the seam of Brendon’s lips and Brendon parts for him with a soft, breathy sound. His every movement is in reaction to Ryan’s, which isn’t what Ryan would have expected from a Companion. It is untrained. Ryan likes that.
When they part, Brendon looks up at him with hooded eyes. He licks his lips, mouth red and swollen, and it takes all of Ryan’s willpower not to walk him back against the wall.
Over Brendon’s shoulder, Spencer is watching them. He reaches for Brendon, brushes his fingers along Brendon’s spine and Brendon arches forward into Ryan. Spencer’s hands slide down Brendon’s waist to rest on his hips over the fabric of his gauzy pants.
“You didn’t really give me a chance,” Brendon says. He lays his head back on Spencer’s shoulder and letting it lull to the side, meets his gaze. “I came to see you, and you’d already taken the Cobra…” He gasps softly when Spencer nuzzles at his neck then Brendon rolls his hips in a slow grind, up against Ryan’s groin and back against Spencer’s. “I’m not sorry,” he whispers. “But I wish we could have met under different circumstances.”
“Brendon,” Spencer rumbles, and turns him around. “You should really just stop talking.” He leans in, nose brushing Brendon’s. Ryan realises he’s holding his breath, waiting for them to kiss, hungry to see it.
The door opens and Brendon jerks away when Gerard pokes his head inside. He grins at them broadly and says, tone not the slightest bit apologetic, “I’m so sorry to interrupt, but dinner is ready to be served.”
*
There aren’t as many guests as Spencer was lead to believe. In fact, besides Brendon and Marshall, there is only one other Companion, a stunning blonde called Cassie whose smile is tranquil and enticing at once. Spencer is surprised to see the crew of the Nevada present as well. Jon is at Cassie’s side, telling her a story in a low murmur, while Patrick and Marshall play catch up, and Gerard and Pete make fast friends.
Brendon takes the seat to Gerard’s left, looking everywhere but at Spencer or Ryan as the servants bring in the first course.
Vicky gives Brendon a slightly apologetic smile, which Spencer takes to mean that she and the others have been filled in on who Brendon is. “Gabe wasn’t too angry with me for taking his ship, was he?”
“More annoyed I interrupted his sleep over it,” Brendon assures her. “Though I imagine you’ll hear it from him yourself, soon enough. He and William will be arriving in Londinium next week.”
“So you’re really a Urie?” Pete asks him, elbows on the table, chin in palm.
“Will it change your perception of me favourably if it’s true?” Brendon counters.
Pete gives him a sharp grin. “You know, I like your sass,” he says, wagging a finger at him. “I heard there was some big xiā shuō bā dào going on at your family’s company.”
Spencer vaguely recalls hearing mention of it in a news feed on Tuesday, but he’s been so wrapped up in Ryan and the hearings at Parliament that he didn’t pay any attention.
Brendon nods his agreement. “I will be officially announcing my takeover at a press conference on Monday.”
“Yes,” Gerard says, looking first at Ryan and then at Spencer. “Right after resigning from the Guild.” Ryan squeezes Spencer’s knee under the table and darts him a quick smile.
“Naturally,” Brendon says shortly. He takes a sip of his water and fidgets with his place setting.
“But you’ll be settling on Sihnon?” Cassie asks.
Brendon’s lips twitch as if in annoyance and Gerard answers, “At the main office here in London City. Kara will be running the Shinon offices.”
“You know, I think that’s enough boring talk about me,” Brendon says, twirling his spoon in his soup. “We came to discuss Ryan’s situation.”
Spencer could deal with knowing more about Brendon settling on Londinium, and especially about him not being a Companion any more, but it can wait until they don’t have an audience.
“Yeah,” Mikey agrees, with a lingering look at his brother. “We have three hundred and eighty-two votes guaranteed, mostly from Peers on the Rim and Border.”
“I have another seventy-nine for you,” Cassie says. “And between Greta and Keltie there are three dozen more.”
Spencer does some quick math, noting that puts them two hundred twenty-three votes behind the supermajority. “Singer and Sheydra bring another twenty-nine,” Gerard says.
Mikey and Gerard both look to Brendon who is studying his plate. “I have two-hundred and sixteen.”
Objectively, Spencer knows he has no reason to be surprised. Brendon must be close to his own age, and if he began taking lovers when he was eighteen, then he must have slept with hundreds of men and women. All the same, hearing such a large number thrown out so casually, Spencer can’t stop the instant spark of jealousy. Or the urge to lay his own claim.
As if he can read Spencer’s mind, Brendon looks at him from beneath his lashes. There is no coyness about it, only something that Spencer reads as fear and anticipation. Ryan shifts lower in his seat, leg brushing Spencer’s as he extends it, and Brendon’s eyes widen just slightly. From the corner of his eye, Spencer can see the mischievous look on Ryan’s face, lip caught between his teeth.
“But that’s more than you need,” Marshall says eagerly, oblivious to what is going on beside him. “Right?”
Brendon clears his throat and tears his gaze away from Spencer’s. “Nothing is certain until tomorrow’s election,” he says. “But I believe between the firm votes I have, and from the information I’ve learned through my fellow board members at Blue Sun, we will take it by a landslide.”
“I would think the Peers involved in Blue Sun would want to avoid having Ryan in office,” Marshall says, frowning.
“At the moment, the only options are impeachment and war, and all those with any connection at all to the scandal hope that, by throwing their support behind Ryan, all the blame will fall on Minister Ross,” Brendon explains.
“You know, for someone who doesn’t care for politics, you seem to get a lot,” Pete teases.
Brendon rolls his eyes. “I refuse to apologise for my charade,” he says in exasperation. “Thanks to it, we are all here now, and tomorrow Minister Ross will be impeached.”
“Yes,” Mikey says, “though a lot of those votes will come with certain expectations.”
“They can shove those expectations up their pìgu,” Ryan says flatly.
“Oh man,” Vicky says, “I’m totally gonna get to cut some biǎo zi, aren’t I?”
Spencer gives her an unsettled look. “Vicky, it disturbs me sometimes, how much pleasure you take in your work.”
“Yeah, well, as long as it keeps Ryan from getting dead, I’m all about it,” Zack says. “Plus, you can’t say it isn’t hot.” Vicky gives him a pleased look, which from her amounts to a kiss on the cheek.
“There are going to be bribes and blackmail attempts,” Mikey says, tone bland. “A bodyguard or seven wouldn’t be looked at amiss.”
“Thanks for the reassurance, Mikes,” Ryan tells him and Mikey lifts a single shoulder in a shrug.
“It’s shiny,” Vicky says with a wave of her hand, “I know some people. We’ll take care of you.”
“Somehow,” Ryan drawls, “I’m not entirely reassured.” His leg shifts, hip pressing against Spencer’s thigh, and Brendon chokes on his water.
The servants come in to clear the first course, and Spencer suddenly realises this is going to be a very long dinner. He settles in, forcing himself to at least lend half and ear as Cassie, Pete, and Mikey begin discussing a minor uprising on Fury.
They retire to the lounge after dinner for brandy and Pete challenges Brendon to a rematch at cards. Ryan looks ready to start a fight over it, but lets Frank rope him into a game of Plums, instead.
From his place on the sofa talking to Gerard and Mikey, Spencer can watch them both, and the looks Brendon keeps sneaking at him and Ryan. One by one Jon, Zack, and Vicky head to their rooms for the evening, but despite many a significant look from Patrick, Pete is determined to win against Brendon, no matter the cost to his sex life.
Mikey seems oblivious to the tension between Spencer, Ryan, and Brendon, telling Spencer very earnestly about unicorn sightings on Highgate. Gerard, on the other hand, takes obvious delight in Brendon’s discomfort.
When Brendon rises and goes to the sideboard to refill his glass, Spencer follows, stepping up close behind him. Brendon stiffens when Spencer presses against his back. His hand clenches around the decanter, knuckles going white.
Spencer bends his neck to murmur in his ear. “It’s late. You must have travelled all day to get here.”
Brendon nods, letting out a shaky breath. “Yes,” he agrees, “I am very tired.”
Ryan’s gaze flicks over to them and Spencer tilts his chin towards the door. Ryan clears his throat and lays his cards face down on the table. “I think I’m done for the night,” he says. He gets to his feet and Spencer marks the knowing grin Gerard aims at them.
“Maybe,” Spencer says, running his hand down Brendon’s arm. He’s entranced by the bare skin that rises with goosebumps under his touch, gently circles his fingers around Brendon’s wrist. “You should think about heading to bed.”
Brendon nods again, haltingly. “Yes,” he whispers, and lets Spencer draw him from the sideboard and towards the door.
*
Ryan is seated on the bed when they enter, in nothing but his slacks. He’s even skinnier than Brendon had imagined, and Brendon is surprised by how much he wants to touch. His heart, which has already been racing, steps up another notch.
Spencer slides an arm around his waist and Brendon goes up on his toes to meet Spencer’s lips. Spencer’s kiss is rough with desperation, and Brendon is shocked by how quickly his body responds, the way his hips press against Spencer’s in search of contact. He jumps when Ryan’s hand falls against the bare skin of his back, a mirror of their position earlier. But Ryan’s fingers slip between the fabric of his choli and skin and he tugs on the lace.
Brendon pulls away and they both move away to let him take a step back. He presses the back of his hand to his mouth, trying to catch his breath. “I’m sorry. I just-I’ve never done this.”
Ryan arches a brow. He steps closer, laying a hand on Brendon’s stomach and sliding under the loosened fabric of his top. “I find that difficult to believe.”
Brendon refuses to blush. He wants this. “I just mean…” He takes a deep breath as Spencer begins to unbutton his shirt. “I’ve never done it for pleasure.”
Ryan eyes narrow and Spencer freezes in the act of shrugging off his shirt, face clouding with anger. “You never enjoyed it?” Spencer asks, voice low with anger.
Brendon is speechless for a long moment, staring at the two of them together. He’s had plenty of physically attractive lovers, but being with them has never made Brendon’s body heat and his breath catch like this. And only from seeing the two of them bare-chested, Spencer with his strong shoulders and curvy hips, and Ryan with skin stretched thin over bones.
“Brendon,” Ryan says. His hand draws away from Brendon’s skin and his brows furrow in concern.
“No,” Brendon says. “I mean, yes. Of course it was enjoyable. What I mean to say…”
He reaches out to brush his fingers over Ryan’s stomach and curls his fingers in his waistband, giving a tug. He’s tired of being always reactive to them, especially now that he’s made up his mind. Ryan stumbles against him, hands falling on Brendon’s shoulders, and he smiles hesitantly. Brendon kisses his collarbone, the pulse point of his neck. He parts his lips, scraping his teeth against skin until Ryan’s breath catches.
“I’ve never done this for no other reason than because I want to,” he says.
Spencer wraps his arms around Brendon from behind, bare skin warm on Brendon’s. He’s hard, pressed against Brendon’s ass. Brendon has never wanted someone to fuck him before, and now it’s all he can think about.
“This isn’t about you being a Companion,” Spencer says. He peppers kisses up Brendon’s shoulder stopping when he reaches the lace at Brendon’s neck and unties it. “We want you.”
Brendon nods, turning his head to catch Spencer’s mouth in a kiss. His hands fumble blindly at Ryan’s pants. Brendon has never been anything less than graceful and composed in the bedroom, but his skin feels tight and hot, and he wants this too much to be smooth about it.
Ryan helps him, shoving his slacks and underwear down. His hipbones are sharp under Brendon’s palms. Brendon wants to go down on his knees, to lick and suck everywhere his hands touch.
He catches Spencer’s lip between his teeth and pulls away. He delights in Spencer’s gasp, the way his hips buck. Brendon presses his ass back against him for a teasing second and steps away, pushing Ryan back too.
Their eyes track him as he moves towards the bed. His choli, loosened, slides away from his chest to the floor and he lets the sari fabric drop with it. Left only in his pants, he sits on the edge of the bed and pulls himself up.
Spencer moves first, almost tripping in his haste to strip out of his pants. He falls over Brendon on the bed and kisses him with that same rough urgency that makes Brendon want to just touch him everywhere with no finesse at all, until they both come.
Then Ryan is sinking down beside them, mouth on Brendon’s throat. Brendon lifts his hips and reaches between them to wriggle free of his pants and kick them aside. He rolls Spencer beneath him, straddles his lap and leans over to kiss Ryan properly, hungrily.
Brendon was taught not to let his passions get the better of him, but neither of them seems to mind. Ryan responds with equal fervour, and Spencer’s hands frame his hips as he grinds his cock against Brendon’s ass. Brendon breaks away with a groan, hands braced on Spencer’s chest, and he rocks down against him. He can almost feel Spencer inside of him already and he’s desperate for it, breath coming in shallow gasps.
Ryan lies down at Spencer’s side and Brendon just watches as they kiss. It’s different from the first time, when they were hesitant. Now there’s an easiness between them, and Brendon wants to be a part of it. He leans in to kiss Ryan’s jaw, to suck bruises over Spencer’s chest.
“I want both of you,” he whispers against Ryan’s throat and sinks his teeth in. Clients never liked being marked, but Ryan and Spencer only answer by rolling him beneath them and returning the favour.
Brendon closes his eyes, head tossed back against the mattress. It’s almost too much, all the sensation. He wasn’t lying when he said that he usually enjoyed sex with his clients, but he’s never been the focus. His pleasure has always been…secondary.
Spencer gets on his knees over him and crawls down the bed. He ducks his head, breathing hotly over Brendon’s cock before pressing his tongue firmly to the head. Brendon’s back arches away from the bed and he mumbles, “Sorry, sorry,” patting at Spencer’s hair.
Spencer grins at him and twirls his tongue around Brendon’s cock. “It’s really okay,” he says, and closes his mouth around Brendon, sucking. And Brendon-he’s given more blow jobs than he could ever hope to keep count of, but he’s only been on the receiving end a handful of times, and it’s never felt like this.
He can’t make his body listen to him, keeps thrusting up and Spencer lets him, takes it and moans around Brendon like he enjoys it. “Stop thinking about it,” Ryan whispers, and tugs Brendon’s earlobe between his teeth. “Just let us.”
Brendon swallows, throat dry from panting, and nods his agreement. Ryan presses a quick kiss to his mouth and rolls away towards the nightstand. He comes back with a jar of lube. Brendon’s hips buck up. His fingers tighten in Spencer’s hair and he can’t make them loosen.
Ryan’s smile is knowing and full of promise as he unscrews the lid and dips his fingers in the viscous liquid inside. Brendon spreads his legs and plants his heels on the bed in anticipation. Ryan kisses him again, slowly, and Brendon grabs his wrist impatiently, bringing it between his thighs.
Ryan laughs into his mouth, but he doesn’t tease, probing until he finds the tight ring of muscles and pushing two slick fingers inside. Brendon’s thought about Ryan’s hands, his long, slender fingers, when he has allowed himself to fantasise. Now they’re spreading him open and it’s too much, with Spencer’s mouth. He gives a sharp tug to Spencer’s hair and Spencer lets him go with a slick, wet sound.
“I’m close,” Brendon whines, surprised at the sound of his own voice. He pulls at Spencer’s hair again until Spencer obliges him, rising up over him. Ryan works a third finger inside and crooks them, sending pleasure sparking down Brendon’s spine. “I don’t want to come yet.”
“What do you want?” Spencer asks. His voice is lower than usual, coarse, and Brendon’s cock jumps at the thought that it’s because of him. Spencer wraps a hand around him loosely. He kisses Brendon’s throat, noses aside his hair and licks at the shell of his ear.
Ryan’s fingers find his prostate, circling gently, teasingly, and Brendon tries to pull away. “I’m usually the one asking that question,” he manages.
“How’s it feel to be on the other side?” Ryan murmurs.
Brendon tries to give him a sardonic smirk, but Ryan twists his fingers deeper and he just moans. “I think it’s going to take some getting used to,” he says. He twists out from under them and Ryan slips his fingers free.
Ryan and Spencer sit back with their shoulders brushing and fingers tangled casually over the sheets. He’s joined couples in their marriage bed before, he’s been part of foursomes and even a few fivesomes, but he’s never felt like he was part of one as anything other than an instrument.
Even without touching Spencer and Ryan, Brendon feels a part of this. It’s terrifying and exhilarating, and he can’t stop his grin. He reaches out his hand. “Will you two come fuck me?”
They both spring into motion. Brendon opens his legs in welcoming and leans back on the pillows. His hand scrambles blindly over the sheets for the jar of lubricant as Ryan settles between his thighs. Brendon reaches between them to slick the lube over Ryan’s cock. He can’t take his eyes off Ryan’s face, the way he bites his lip when Brendon squeezes him, the way his eyes screw shut tightly, like he can barely control himself.
Then Ryan’s lining up and pushing in and Brendon can’t stop the sound that tears from him, raw and desperate. Ryan slowly bottoms out, face buried in Brendon’s neck. He lets out a harsh breath and flexes his hips, pushing deeper and Brendon grabs at his shoulders. His fingers slip down Ryan’s back and dig in at the curve of his ass.
Brendon wants him to move, and realises after a second that he can ask for that. He hooks a leg around Ryan’s thigh and rocks back and up again. His fingers brush through the hair at the nape of Ryan’s neck. “Move, Ryan, come on,” he urges, and Ryan lifts his head, pinning Brendon with his gaze. His eyes are dark with lust and he kisses Brendon almost violently, startling a gasp from Brendon’s throat.
Ryan moves, slowly at first, long, deep thrusts that make Brendon’s eyes roll back in his head. His mouth trails from Brendon’s along his jaw and down his throat, his teeth stinging.
Spencer slides a hand between them, thumb flicking idly at Brendon’s nipple, and he kisses Brendon deeply, swallowing the sounds he makes. His hand skates lower, making Brendon’s stomach quiver, and teases over Brendon’s cock before going even lower, past Brendon’s balls, to where Ryan’s thrusting inside. The touch makes Brendon’s hips jerk and Ryan lets out a low sound, biting down hard on Brendon’s shoulder.
It’s like Spencer flipped a switch; Ryan grabs Brendon’s hips in a tight grip and fucks him harder. The bed frame shakes, and normally Brendon would be embarrassed to think that someone might hear this. For a Companion, lovemaking is part of a larger, sacred ritual, and it is meant to be kept private. Right now he can’t think of anything beyond what Spencer and Ryan are doing to him.
Brendon reaches out for Spencer, hand rubbing over his thigh before finding his cock and wrapping his fist around it. Spencer moves to return the favour and Brendon shakes his head. “Not yet,” he whispers against Spencer’s mouth. “I want you first.”
“Fuck,” Ryan moans. He presses his lips against Brendon’s forehead, then to Spencer’s cheek, the corner of his mouth, the place where Brendon’s lips meet Spencer’s. “Fuck, Brendon,” he says again, with a brutal snap of his hips that makes Brendon bite down on Spencer’s lip.
Brendon pulls away, panting, and runs his hand down Ryan’s cheek, catching him under the chin and leading him into a brief kiss. “You’re so…” Ryan trails off and tosses his head back, tendons in his neck standing out in stark relief.
“Come for me,” Brendon murmurs. He kneads the soft skin at the swell of Ryan’s ass, urging him deeper. Ryan answers with another forceful thrust, and another, and Brendon has to slow his breathing to keep from coming himself. Control tenuous, he hooks his ankles around Ryan’s waist and meets him thrust for thrust, until Ryan’s arms give out and he buries himself deep one last time, groaning through clenched teeth as he comes.
Brendon rubs Ryan’s back, still moving his own hips, unable to stop himself. Ryan makes a faint noise between pleasure and discomfort and raises his head. “Sorry,” Brendon whimpers. “I’m sorry, I just-”
Ryan cuts him off with a kiss as he pulls out. Brendon moans at the loss, reaching between his legs to finger himself delicately. He’s tender and a little sore, and feels way too empty. Ryan’s smiling when he breaks the kiss. “I think it’s your turn, Spence,” he says.
*
Spencer wakes with Ryan plastered against his back and Brendon wrapped around him from the front. Though he may have worried about the logistics before, he’s starting to think that adapting to two lovers as opposed to one isn’t going to be as difficult as he’d imagined.
He’s hard, but not insistently so. He can wait for them to wake. It’s still a novel sight, all of Brendon’s golden skin bared for Spencer to see and touch. He brushes his hand up Brendon’s waist, around his back, over his shoulder.
The skin is smooth and flawless under his touch, and Spencer can’t stop touching, tracing his nails against the flesh of Brendon’s neck, letting the pad of his finger just skim down his arm.
Brendon makes a soft sound in his sleep and shifts closer. His arms tighten and he murmurs, “Spence?” His eyes flutter open and he smiles sleepily before closing them again.
“How did you know it was me?” Spencer whispers.
Brendon’s smile widens. “Mmm. You touch me so delicately,” he says. He stretches, arching his body into Spencer’s enticingly. His body stiffens halfway through and he opens his eyes again, more alert. He looks around the room as if startled.
“What is it?” Spencer asks. He bends his head to kiss open mouthed against one of the dark purple bites on Brendon’s neck.
“Xūyú,” Brendon says.
Spencer feels Ryan stirring, reaching past Spencer to take Brendon’s hand. “No,” Ryan says. “Not anymore. Stay with us.”
“I want to,” Brendon says, though his words come out choked.
“Then do it,” Spencer says. He slips a hand under Brendon’s thigh, hiking it up over his own hip. Brendon’s still sticky wet from earlier, and it’s so easy for Spencer to push inside. Brendon lets out a shaky breath, slowly relaxing against him.
“I’m here,” Brendon says, and Spencer knows that’s what matters.
“Don’t go anywhere,” Ryan says, voice hoarse. His own erection is pressed against Spencer’s back.
“Not-oh-planning on it,” Brendon hisses. He pushes Spencer onto his back and pins his shoulders to the bed with a firm grip.
Ryan lines up beside them, rubbing his cock against Spencer’s hip. Spencer takes him in hand, but it’s difficult to keep up any sort of pace when Brendon rolls his hips, taking Spencer deeper.
Brendon’s hand slides over his stomach, wrapping his fist around his own cock and jerking in time with the lazy, rocking motion of his hips. Spencer can’t tear his eyes away from the sight, the way Brendon’s thighs flex, how his chest labours with his breath, his cock slick with precome, fucking into his fist. From Ryan’s low, hungry moan, Spencer can guess he’s fixated on the same thing.
When Brendon comes, it almost seems like a surprise to him, the way he folds in on himself, mouth falling open on a silent moan. He braces his hands on Spencer’s chest and rocks harder through it and Spencer does his best to thrust up harder, deeper, following Brendon over the edge.
Brendon sprawls over Spencer’s chest, drawing shaky breaths. He holds his soiled hand away from Spencer, like it’s something to be ashamed of, or some fèi huà, and Spencer just doesn’t hold with that. He takes Brendon by the wrist, lifting his hand to Spencer’s lips. Brendon lifts his head to watch with heavy lidded eyes as Spencer sucks Brendon’s fingers into his mouth, and licks over his palm.
Ryan makes a noise halfway between arousal and annoyance beside them. “Someone had seriously better suck my cock,” he says.
Brendon arches a brow at Spencer before turning to Ryan. “Just one someone?” he asks.
*
Brendon dresses in an understated black cheongsam with a delicate phoenix picked out in shimmering thread. The high collar does an excellent job of hiding the marks from their lovemaking. Gerard has provided Ryan with a special suit for today’s hearing, which performs a similar job. Brendon dabs concealer to the one mark that falls above Ryan’s collar, at the corner of his jaw.
Spencer, however, apparently has no shame, leaving the top few buttons of his shirt undone to expose a veritable necklace of bruises. “You’re not going to the hearing like that,” Ryan tells him blandly.
Spencer just shrugs and goes off to breakfast that way. They’re late to the table, which is obvious enough without Spencer’s display, and of course Pete, Vicky, and Jon have to be obnoxious hùndàn about it, making snide comments all throughout the meal and snickering behind their glasses.
“Not even in office and you’re already going to start a scandal,” Pete laughs.
Ryan decides to ignore him and try to copy the way Brendon goes about eating his egg in a very dignified manner. Now, outside of the bedroom, his stomach is twisting up with anxiety. Before the morning is out, the House of Lords will hold their vote. Even with the number of votes they’ve predicted, nothing is certain. Ryan doesn’t want to consider what will happen if his father wins or the war that will follow, most likely worse than the War of Unification.
Brendon rides over in the same limousine as Ryan and Spencer. Spencer has, thankfully, done up his shirt and donned his jacket, and he looks cool and intimidating. He sits on Ryan’s left and Brendon on Ryan’s right, and they both hold his hand, neither commenting on the tightness of his grip.
When they draw near to the Halls of Parliament, Ryan can’t help the way his pulse quickens along with his breath. Spencer just holds on tighter, and as ever before Ryan draws his strength from him. If Spencer can be strong for Ryan, then Ryan can be strong for everyone else.
Then Brendon leans in close and lays his head on Ryan’s shoulder. “I won’t let you fail,” Brendon assures him, and no matter what mistruths Brendon spoke in the past, Ryan believes him.
They part before stepping out of the limousine, but Spencer and Brendon stay close at his sides. Ryan squares his shoulders, striding to meet Mikey at the entrance to Parliament.
Even when he wins, there are so many other hurdles to overcome. His appointment isn’t an easy fix. The wounds left by Unification have been festering for nearly a decade, and now with Mirada they’ve been split open again. He’s young for a Prime Minister, and he knows there are members of Parliament who will seize on that to try and gain sway over him. Yet even knowing all of that, with Spencer and Brendon at his side, it doesn’t seem all that daunting.
*
Epilogue
This morning, a little over a month since Prime Minister George Ross’ impeachment by a stunning nine-hundred and eighty-three votes in the House of Lords, Parliament voted to convict the ex-Minister on criminal charges for his involvement in the deaths of the colonists on Miranda as well as in the cover-up that followed.
Later this afternoon, his son, George Ryan Ross the Third, fashioned Lord Ryan Ross, was appointed to the office of Prime Minister. In his speech, Minister Ross caused waves by announcing his intention to reinstate full citizenship to all those veterans who fought with the Independents in the Unification war. Within hours, opinion polls showed Minister Ross’ popularity far above that of his father, throughout the entirety of his time in office.
His politics aren’t the only thing causing a sensation, though. Following the inauguration ceremony, Minister Ross announced his engagement to ex-Companion and current President of Blue Sun Corporation. The two have appeared together several times in public since ex-Minister Ross’ impeachment, and rumours began circulating soon after. Such a powerful union is no doubt-
Brendon turns off the television screen and throws the remote control somewhere off the foot of their bed. “I think that’s enough politics for the day,” he says sleepily. He stretches a leg and arm over Ryan’s body.
“You don’t want to hear more about your epic, scandalous romance?” Spencer teases, dropping kisses at the top of Brendon’s spine, one of his most sensitive spots. Brendon squirms, letting out a sigh of pleasure.
“Oh, just wait until they find out about you, Spencer Smith,” Ryan says, too gleefully for someone who will receive the brunt of the criticism over their ménage à trois. Someday in the distant, distant future.
“So, Prime Minister,” Brendon purrs, sitting up to straddle Ryan’s hips, “how does it feel to be the most powerful man in the entire Verse?”
Ryan smiles. “If it’s true, it’s only thanks to you two,” answers, arching up to kiss him.
Fin.
Translations (Mandarin and Spanish)
thanks to summertea for setting me straight on some of these!
Yú bèn de…wáng bā dàn - stupid bastards
Guǐ - hell
Dǒng ma - (do you) understand
Fàng-xīn - don’t worry
Niào - piss
fèi huà - nonsense; rubbish
Bǎo bèi - sweetheart
yīn jīng - penis
gàn nǐ niáng - fuck your mother
Dāngrán - of course; naturally
Jǐnshèn - wary; cautious
Pìgu - butt
xiā shuō bā dào -nonsense; bullshit
Tā mā de - fuck
Tā mā de hún dàn - mother fucking son of a bitch
Gāisǐ - damn; shit
Hùndàn - assholes; jerks
guǎn nǐ zìjǐ de shì - mind your own business
zǎo'ān - good morning
Qù nǐde - fuck off
Liú kǒu shuǐ de biǎo zi hé hóu zi de bèn ér zi - stupid son of a drooling whore and a monkey (equivalent to “son of a bitch”)
jiàng júhuā - crimson chrysanthemum (beverage)
lèyìde - with pleasure; gladly
zuò chán - zazen; a meditative style/pose
Zhè shì shénme làn dōngxī - what the shit is this?
Bìzuǐ - shut up
wò kao - what in the hell
Shuài - literally “handsome,” often used as slang for “cool” or “awesome.”
Qǐngjìn - please come in
Duìbuqǐ - I’m sorry
Wǒ de mā hé tā de fēng kuáng de wài shēng - holy mother of god and all her wacky nephews
qù sǐ - go to hell
shèngzǐ - Jesus Christ (lit. “holy son”)
rén cí de fó zǔ - merciful god (lit. “merciful Buddha”)
Bèndàn - moron
Chiquito - little one
Hijo de puta - son of a bitch
Mi cariños - my darlings
Trozo de mierda - piece of shit
Gǒushǐ - dog shit
biǎo zi - bitches
Xūyú - brief moment, short interval of time (this character is written on a Companion’s hourglass - the brevity of one’s time with a Companion is part of the beauty of the encounter)