The Plot Bunny (18 page)

This time, Dury whimpered. Simon would have given anything to see his angel's face in that particular moment. Then, Luc briefly met Simon's eyes and smiled. As the other man directed his attention to Dury once more, an image popped into Simon's head, Dury obediently parting his lips. He watched enthralled as Luc fed his cock into their lover's mouth. It felt slightly disconcerting to see Dury from two angles, but still arousing as hell.

The image vanished, though, as Luc buried his hands in Dury's blond hair and groaned. Simon realized Luc must have lost focus. He had to say he understood Luc perfectly. Dury's mouth seemed to have been created for sucking cock, a peculiar fact given his angelic nature, but true, nonetheless.

A sense of urgency invaded him and he pushed another finger into Dury's ass. Their angel moaned around Luc's cock, and Simon's dick throbbed, aching to be buried inside Dury.

But even in this ethereal world, even knowing what Dury was, and that his lover couldn't be so easily hurt, Simon couldn't bring himself to rush things. A part of him still felt protective of Dury, considering him younger, more inexperienced than them. Perhaps age-wise, Dury beat him, but he remained an innocent. Simon knew that his and Luc's duty was, above all else, to protect Dury.

Following that thought, Simon slowly introduced Dury to sensual pleasure. He tried to take his time and be as gentle as possible. Keeping his own arousal in check, he crooked his fingers inside Dury, aiming for his angel's sweet spot. As Simon found the small gland, Dury let out a beautiful whimpering sound. Luc caressed his hair, whispering soft endearments to him, "It's okay, sweetheart. Just let it come."

Another image flashed through Simon's mind's eye, Dury gazing up at Luc, his mouth full of cock, his eyes burning with love, lust, and uncertainty. Through it all, Simon felt Luc's own desire to take things slow, to give Dury time to explore, to accept the new experience.

When Dury's silent pleas sounded in Simon's mind, Simon felt astonished at the depth of their connection. The sheer emotion broke his barriers, and he couldn't wait any longer. Removing his fingers from Dury's passage, Simon steadied Dury. He positioned his dick at Dury's hole and pushed. The tight heat that enveloped his cock made him gasp out his lover's name. It felt amazing, and Simon thought his heart would burst out of his chest any moment now, because surely no one could withstand so much pleasure.

He could only compare it with his and Luc's lovemaking, but this time, it seemed even better. Luc was also there, in front of him, fucking Dury's mouth, connected to Simon through the conduit of pleasure that was Dury.

In that moment, Simon couldn't bring himself to regret his decision, regardless of the pain of his mortal death. Even the knowledge of his separation from his twin seemed less hurtful. It had been the right choice to make. The three of them simply fit together like they'd been made for each other. In fact, Simon wouldn't have been surprised if that were true, if God had really created him and Luc for Dury.

Being inside his angel felt like Simon's idea of heaven, more so than the white, ethereal structures and the otherworldly creatures who surrounded them. He could also sense Luc through their peculiar connection and he knew his lover experienced the same mind-melting emotions. Their three hearts became united until Simon didn't know where one ended and the other began. He could only hope he'd be able to hold his orgasm in check for enough time to make this moment last.

* * * *

Dury felt full. His mouth was invaded by Luc's cock, his ass by Simon's dick and his heart by the emotions of both his lovers, mingled with his own. He'd never thought such sensations could exist, but then again, he hadn't expected falling in love either.

As his two lovers started thrusting in and out of his body, Dury lost all coherence. He surrendered to his heart and desires, and the only thoughts in his mind became a litany of his lover's names. Luc. Simon. Luc. Simon. Over and over.

At first, both his men kept their motions excruciatingly slow. As they sped up, though, Simon's dick hit Dury's prostate, sending shocks of pleasure through him. Just the knowledge of the intimate penetration made everything so much more intense than the touch of Simon's fingers. All the while, Luc continued to fuck Dury's mouth. Luc's precum tasted intoxicating, and Dury's brain spun at the overflow of stimulation.

Luc moved in synchrony with Simon, and his thrusts grew faster and more impatient, even erratic, and Dury happily took it all. With each thrust, spirals of pleasure burned him inside out. He could no longer control his body. His wings trembled, too heavy for him to hold up even in his spiritual form. His will seemed to have dissolved altogether. He could only feel the incredible heat of his lovers' cocks, branding him, filling him, bonding them together for all eternity.

Time had little meaning in his realm, and yet it ruthlessly decreed their lovemaking could not last forever. There was simply too much of everything to keep going for much longer. All too soon, Dury felt his orgasm approach, within him and inside his lovers as well. His skin tingled, his wings shimmered above him, sending sparks of clear light flying through the air. Sexual energy swept over him like a wave. Simon and Luc thrust inside him in tandem, and Dury could sense they were close too.

When his lovers said his name at the same time, Dury couldn't take it any longer. The cocktail of ecstasy swirled inside him, hotter and brighter, and he came, his cries muffled by the cock in his mouth. In mere instants, hot cum hit his taste buds, the flavor of Luc's spunk invading Dury's senses. With a final thrust, Simon found his peak as well, bathing Dury's channel with his semen.

Marked inside out by his lovers' essence, Dury could have cried out of happiness. Sexual satisfaction mingled with pure emotion, and Dury allowed himself to bask in the afterglow. Unfortunately, his lovers' cocks, now spent, slipped out of his body. Dury would have protested, but he didn't feel up to a repeat performance. A pleasant exhaustion began to take over, the orgasm fading in a beautiful sense of peace. With a final effort, Dury managed to whisper, "Love you."

As his eyes drifted shut, one of his lovers—Dury identified him as Simon—took him in his arms and carried him in what Dury guessed was the intuitive direction of the bedroom. Dury registered being laid down on a soft bed before he surrendered to slumber.

Chapter Twelve

The dark procession passed through the cemetery in silence. The families of the two dead men had done their best to keep the ceremony simple and private, like their loved ones would have wanted. For Luc, watching it was just plain creepy. He could only thank God they hadn't died in any gruesome way. Seeing himself still and lifeless in a casket already gave him the shivers without adding a bonus of burns or wounds.

Simon's burial somehow seemed worse, though. In a way, Luc felt detached from his own. He knew he still existed, that he still lived, albeit in a different way. But a cold chill gripped his heart when he took in Simon's casket. Even now, the memory of it made him want to run out of the cemetery screaming. Why in the world had they come here in the first place? He didn't want to see Simon dead.

Simon nudged him with his shoulder, whispering, "Hey. I'm right here, remember?"

On impulse, Luc wrapped his arm around his lover's waist. "How could I forget? You keep irritating me."

They stood next to their intended graves, watching the people approach, with their closest friends and family carrying the caskets. By some miracle, the families had decided to bury them close to each other, and they'd gone to considerable expense to do so. Luc appreciated it, though, and he felt selfish for abandoning them like he had. He prayed he would be allowed to come to them, to encourage them, if only in dreams.

As it were, no one could see them. Dury had explained that they could actually make it happen, with time and training, and regain their physical bodies. However, that wouldn't be a very good idea, not when they were practically standing next to their corpses.

Dury had, however, insisted on joining the procession. Finding closure, the angel called it. It somehow surprised Luc, given that Dury was a Death Angel. Perhaps things were the other way around, and for that reason precisely, the entire process affected Dury so much. Either way, he'd come in his mortal form, giving his condolences to the grieving relatives.

Without his angel powers, Dury would have probably been unable to do so. The church where Luc and Simon's bodies had briefly lain was surrounded by fans and admirers, weeping for the loss of two great artists. Dury had managed to get inside, and had come to the burial ceremony as well.

"There," Simon said, pointing.

As he followed his lover's gaze, Luc saw Dury walking by a black-clad Susanne. He seemed to be whispering something in her ear, and she nodded, leaning against him. It was quite shocking, given Susanne's first reaction regarding Dury. Then again, Dury had a way of endearing himself to everyone. It didn't even have anything to do with his angelic nature, but rather with a special, inner warmth that only he possessed.

Dury also wore dark garments, making him look thin and frail in the crowd. Luc felt a pang of concern and before he knew it, he called out, "Dury!"

Dury's eyes shot toward them. He looked lost and sad, and Luc knew there was no deception in that sorrow. Dury genuinely hurt for the entire thing. Luc could feel it through their bond.

As their gazes met, Luc offered his lover a smile he hoped was comforting. Inside him, he felt Dury's pain ease, and Dury actually smiled back before turning toward Susanne once more. They were within earshot now, so Luc heard her ask, "What is it? Is everything okay, Dury?"

"I'm fine," Dury answered. "It just occurred to me that wherever they are, Luc and Simon wouldn't want us to be sad."

Susanne's eyes filled with tears. "I know. It's just so unfair. They looked so happy when I saw them, that night. Why did this have to happen?"

Dury didn't answer, and Luc wished he could hold his lover, take him away from this pain. They'd made the right decision. Even if they'd left behind so many people, even with the guilt and sorrow he himself felt, they were needed here, by Dury's side. Above all else, they loved Dury.

As the ceremony continued, the caskets were lowered into the cold graves, and the priest started speaking. Luc's heart hurt when his little brother insisted on holding a small speech as well. Out of everyone he'd abandoned, Taylor would miss him the most. Lately, Taylor seemed to be having trouble with his boyfriend, Seth. It bothered Luc that the guy hadn't even shown up to provide comfort.

Just as Luc thought this, Taylor paled and his words froze on his lips. He stared straight at Simon and Luc—at the actual Simon and Luc, not their dead bodies. "You… Luc… What?"

Immediately, the people became unsettled. "Taylor?" their mother asked. "What is it, baby?"

"Luc and Simon," Taylor cried. "They're right there."

"You can see us?" Luc asked dumbly. "How can that be?"

Taylor just stared at them, Luc's words obviously magnifying his fear and confusion. "Calm down, Tay," Johnnie interceded. "There's nothing there. You just need a little break, that's all."

He tried to pull Taylor away from the grave, but Taylor dug his heels in, refusing to budge. "Go with him," Luc said, not wanting to cause more of a fuss. "I promise we'll talk."

"Come on," Johnnie said. "Please, Tay."

Taylor nodded and accepted Johnnie's suggestion. Among murmurs of compassion and concern, he was led to a lone tree. "You okay there, little brother?" Johnnie asked.

"I'm fine," Taylor snarled at him.

Johnnie opened his mouth and closed it right back, obviously not knowing what to say.

Miraculously, Dury somehow managed to make his way to the tree. "I'll take care of it," he swiftly said.

Luc never had the chance to tell his family about Dury, but Johnnie seemed to trust Dury regardless. He nodded, giving his younger sibling a concerned look. "It's okay," Taylor said, staring wide-eyed at Dury. "You can go."

As Johnnie returned to the rest of the group, Taylor whispered, "What the hell is going on? You have wings!"

"Don't curse," Dury chastised. "And rest assured, you're not crazy or anything like that."

"Dury is an angel," Luc offered.

Taylor shook his head. "This isn't possible. Angels aren't real."

"Oh, I beg to differ," Dury said with a chuckle. "Don't worry, Taylor. Your brother and Simon are with me, now. For whatever reason, God decided you can see us, so we'll even come visit. But you can't tell anyone about this."

Taylor remained silent for a few moments. "I still can't believe it," he said. "This is all a weird hallucination."

Dury glanced at Luc and nodded. Taking the hint, Luc took a step forward and gripped his brother's hand. "Does this feel like a hallucination to you?"

Luc didn't miss the surreptitious way Dury shielded Taylor from sight and was more than thankful for it. This way, anyone watching would not see the shocked expression on Taylor's face, or the happiness that graced his features. "It's true. It really is true."

"Remember," Simon said, "no one can know. You'll get in trouble if you say anything."

"Okay," Taylor nodded. He looked like he had a million questions, but he didn't know how to phrase them. Luc felt a touch relieved by that. He preferred to explain everything to Taylor when they were safely away from the crowd.

As it turned out, they were interrupted when two more people appeared down the path. Luc wasn't surprised to see Dana there—she'd been at the ceremony before, after all—but the presence of her brother did indeed shock him. The young violinist was still in a wheelchair, his face a stony mask, and he ignored all the murmurs that swept through the cemetery as they passed.

Luc couldn't help but feel thankful that, in spite of everything, Josh had chosen to come to his and Simon's funeral. He wondered if he'd seen Christopher yet. Probably not. The painter must have left after the wake.