Autumn (madhouse), a General Hospital story by Sue Castle. Rated NC17, no copyright infringement intended. This story follows the events in Variations on a Corpse series and Mindgames series, which covered the Summer story line. Reading them first is recommended. (Intentionally deviates from GH timeline : think of it as a parallel universe) Thanks to Kevin for the images.

Nikolas had proven himself a true Cassadine in his efforts to prevent Helena from utilizing her tool to its fullest. Embarking on a sexual affair with Lucky, entwining himself thoroughly into young Master Spencer's life until Nikolas was Lucky's primary concern thus placing himself in the crosshairs should Helena trigger Lucky's terminal programming, had been a master stroke.

It was not, however, the final move in the game. With Helena, only death could end the match. Given her propensity for hidden surprises, perhaps even death wouldn't see the end of her schemes.

Content for the moment to retreat and regroup, she watched from the sidelines. Her grandson was intelligent, and he was a Cassadine, but he was also only a boy, and as such was both impatient and short-sighted. With time and distance, he would lose his wariness and grow comfortable. Life would resume its usual tenor. He would find other distractions. Lucky would grow closer to Elizabeth. What once had been an undesirable match had become highly desired; if the Spencer boy was in love with the girl, then she would displace Nikolas in his affections, and Lucky's usefulness as a weapon would be restored.

Gia was an unexpected complication, and an unpleasant one. However, the girl was pretty in a common sort of way, and if she could distract Nikolas, all the better. Once the bond between the brothers was weakened and the physical attraction between them was deflected elsewhere, she could continue with her plans. Time and experience were her finest weapons, and she was a past master in their use.

Not one to allow any possibility, no matter how crude, to escape her notice and potential use, Helena took a step she'd held in reserve. She spoke with her lawyer; she made her plans. It would break her heart to do so, but there was no alternative. For his own sake, for the sake of the Cassadine legacy, Nikolas would have to be controlled.

Committed.

If nothing else, the videotape would be helpful at the hearings. Closed, of course. Money would ensure discretion. Power would ensure compliance.

She smiled. It was truly unfortunate that it should come to this. But one way or another, Nikolas would do as she commanded.

It shouldn't have shocked him as strongly as it did. Discovering that his grandmother, unnatural hag that she was, had begun the paperwork to have him committed to a mental institution against his will was the final blow to the travesty of their relationship. Nikolas found himself hissing into her face like a snake, one hand clamped around her windpipe, a breath away from throttling her to death and throwing her body off the pier.

He stopped himself. Barely. Told her she'd rot in hell before she ever got her gnarled hands on a cent of the Cassadine fortune. Told her time would stop before he would ever allow her to be in a position to harm him again.

She complimented him. Told him he'd never sounded more like his father. Pride gleamed from her eyes. She actually meant it.

It was a draw between the fact that she was proud of him for nearly killing her and the fact that he had come so close, with no remorse, to doing so. Either was enough to make him want to vomit. Both combined made him tremble like a leaf. Not that he allowed her to see it.

Gia felt it when she held his arm. He escaped her as quickly as he could.

Elizabeth was with Lucky when he arrived at Kelly's. As usual. He stared at his brother with the same intensity he'd shown on the dock in the altercation with Helena. Lucky caught on without his having to say a word. Nikolas left, unable to go into details without losing what was left of his composure. A short time later, Lucky met him at the boxcar.

"What happened, Nikolas?" Cornflower blue eyes stared at him through the dim interior of the old railway car, concern making them brighter than usual. To the point, as always, his little brother.

"Helena." The 'of course' was silent, but Lucky heard it. He ambled over and settled down next to Nikolas on the blanket spread across the rough wooden floor. Nikolas leaned his shoulder into the welcome warmth Lucky provided. After the confrontation he'd had with his grandmother on the docks, he hadn't thought he'd ever feel warm again. How could someone who professed to love him plan such a horrible fate for him?

"What'd she do now?" Lucky prodded him. Nikolas took a deep breath, staring into the distance.

"She's trying to use her trusteeship to get me confined to a mental institution against my will."

Lucky exploded away from him, pacing the length of the car and back, closer to a wild animal than a sentient human being.

"That fucking bitch!" His hands were clenched into fists. He was practically vibrating from anger. Nikolas stared at him, entranced. Such fury, such violent protectiveness, all for him. "How the hell could she do something so -- so -- so sick? She's all the time going on about how much she loves you then she goes and hurts you! All the time! She is so damned sick! She needs to be put down, like some kind of rabid dog, before she kills you!"

"I nearly killed her tonight."

Nikolas' quiet words cut across Lucky's rage, silencing him completely. Lucky stopped in his tracks and stared down at his brother. Nikolas waved a hand vaguely in the air, fingers curled as if to choke an invisible victim.

"I took her throat in my hand and I tightened my grip. I could have strangled her and thrown her corpse in the river." Lucky dropped to his knees beside Nikolas and laid a hand on his shoulder. "I nearly did it. Nearly finished it. Finally. Forever."

"How'd you stop yourself?" Lucky's question was as quiet as Nikolas' musing.

"She would have been proud of me." Nikolas wasn't sure if he shuddered or Lucky had. The only thing he knew was that Lucky was holding on to him and there were tears on Lucky's face. "I didn't want her to be proud of me."

"I want her dead," Lucky growled. It sounded muted, as if he was having trouble forcing words out of his throat.

Nikolas turned in Lucky's arms and buried his face in warm soft blond hair. His arms came up around Lucky's broad back and he held on as tightly as he was being held. "I couldn't do it. Couldn't be what she tried to make me."

"You're better than that," Lucky whispered against his ear. "I'm proud of you. You're so much better than her."

He burrowed closer. "I'm just like her. Just like my father. Just like all of them."

"No!" Lucky drew back, forcing Nikolas from his haven, cupping Nikolas' chin in his hand and putting their faces so close together Nikolas could taste Lucky's breath. Mint. Coffee. Lipstick. Elizabeth, no doubt. Lucky's fierce words brought him back to the present.

"You've got your dad in you, yeah, just like I've got mine. But we're better than that, 'cause we've got Mom in us, too, and we've got each other, and we're never gonna be crazy and stupid and spiteful and horrible like that. The war's over and we won. You hear me? She's beaten. You won! I won! They will never win, as long as we stick together!"

Nikolas stared at the fire in his brother's eyes and the fear on his face, and couldn't stand the thought that he'd put it there. That Helena had caused him to put it there. Again. Reaching up with his free hand, he tangled it in Lucky's hair and closed the small gap between their faces. Noses bumped, then lips, and he was kissing Lucky, deep and hard, subsuming his innate hatred of his heritage in the one beautiful thing included in it.

Being a Cassadine was a curse. Being connected to Lucky was the sweetest part of his life. If he had to suffer through the first to hold on to the second, he would do it. He would do anything to maintain the tie between himself and his brother.

When they broke for air, Lucky leaned his forehead against Nikolas' and said softly, "We'll stop her. She's not taking you away from me."

"Promise?" It was a sincere plea for reassurance disguised as playful teasing. Lucky took him seriously.

"On my life." With that, he cradled Nikolas' head in his hands and began to kiss him again.

Heat, and life, and love. All the emotions his family pulled from Nikolas flowed back into him, and he arched into Lucky's kiss. His hands came up and started to pull at material, sliding under Lucky's shirt to stroke the warm skin along his ribs, up his sides, over his heart.

Lucky responded without breaking the kiss, his own hands running under Nikolas' coat, flicking open buttons to bare his skin to the evening air. Fingers played with the hair in the center of his chest, then followed it down to the fly of his jeans. "Cold?"

Nikolas could barely make out the word murmured against his lips. When he did understand what he was being asked, he almost laughed. He was as far from cold as he could get without spontaneously igniting. "Come here," he ordered Lucky, rolling them onto the blanket, stopping only when he had Lucky pinned beneath him where he couldn't get away.

Not that Lucky was trying to escape. Quite the contrary. His hands hadn't stopped working at Nikolas' fly, and from there into his boxers. Now he had his fingers wrapped around the prize. Nikolas froze. The alternative was coming immediately. Not what he wanted. Right then, he needed to reestablish his connection to Lucky. For that, a quick one wouldn't work.

He needed to make love.

His hand closed over Lucky's. "Take it slow," he said quietly. Lucky stopped moving beneath him and lay there looking up at him. "Make it last."

The smile he got in response nearly blinded him. "We can do that."

And he did. Whatever else he'd been doing with Elizabeth, he'd been working on his timing. It was exquisite.

With hands and mouth and body, pausing to take stock as he went, he proceeded to drive Nikolas completely out of himself. They rolled again on the blanket, this time ending with Lucky on top. Lucky stripped Nikolas with the care of a man unwrapping a precious gift. Shielding him from the breeze coming through the warped boards in the boxcar's walls with his own body, Lucky kept Nikolas warm, then made him hot, then melted him completely. Nikolas was begging by the time Lucky finally took him in his mouth and allowed him his orgasm. Nikolas retained just enough sanity to reach down and stop Lucky when he would have helped himself, stilling Lucky's hand.

"In me," he whispered. Lucky shivered, and Nikolas saw fire leap in his brother's eyes.

"As far in you as you are in me," Lucky replied with unusual sensitivity, and Nikolas smiled at another lesson Elizabeth had taught him. Then Lucky was pushing into him, and the smile disappeared into a gasp that Lucky swallowed with a kiss.

What remained of his troubles, his worries and his fears were overwhelmed with heat and friction, concentrating every thought he had on the movement inside him. Nikolas could physically feel the connection between them being strengthened with each thrust, with each kiss. The ice Helena had sown in him, thawed by the love Lucky had shown him, dissolved completely in this inferno. He tightened his arms and legs around Lucky and urged him on.

It ended sooner than he'd've liked, but then if it had gone on forever he'd never be able to walk again. The mental image of himself walking bowlegged caught him by surprise and he smothered his chuckle against Lucky's shoulder as Lucky bucked against him. Then Lucky shuddered, and Nikolas held him through it, catching him as Lucky collapsed against him.

"You and me against the world," he whispered against his brother's sweat-soaked hair.

"You got that," Lucky mumbled. Nikolas grinned. Sex always wiped Lucky out.

"You know if you fall asleep here you'll freeze your butt off before morning," Nikolas pointed out, feeling ridiculously cheerful. Lucky grumbled something irritable and untranslatable. "Sorry, that's not one of the six languages I speak."

The tousled blond head rose and half-laughing, half-baleful eyes stared down into his. "Gotta have the last word, huh?"

"No," Nikolas answered, suddenly serious. "I don't want any last words. Not with you."

The stare softened and Lucky reached down to peck the end of his nose. "Okay." Then he rolled off Nikolas and reached for his clothes. Nikolas watched him for a moment.

"Are you sure you're not still brainwashed? That was much too easy."

In response, Lucky hit him over the head with his jacket. Laughing and wrestling, they got dressed and headed back toward town. Life was as close to normal as it ever got with them. They'd deal with Helena when they had to do it. Until then, they'd just watch one another's backs. They were good at that.

The next day, the world swung on its axis again. The threat receded as the dead returned to life. Events took on a surreal edge even deeper than the usual insanity of life as a Cassadine. Lucky was asking him a favor, something to do with his Jag and a stolen weekend with Elizabeth, when a familiar voice froze Nikolas in his tracks.

"Stefan?" His voice cracked. He knew he was staring. He couldn't seem to move.

The man standing next to the nurses' desk turned, and Nikolas' knees got shaky. It was his uncle. His uncle, whom his grandmother had murdered, only he wasn't dead. He was alive. He was alive, and he was hugging Nikolas hard, and joy was singing through Nikolas' brain.

All was truly right with the world. And he hadn't even had to murder his grandmother to make it so.

There were questions, and he was babbling, and he was beaming, and he couldn't seem to stop touching Stefan. Lucky was right beside him, and Helena was nowhere in sight, and everything was going to be fine.

Lucky told him he'd be more than willing to take a rain check on the weekend with Elizabeth, and Nikolas heard every word Lucky didn't say. That Lucky knew Nikolas was off-balance, and was there to catch him if he fell. That Lucky put Nikolas before anyone else, and regardless of her expectations, if Nikolas needed him, Elizabeth would wait. Nikolas heard it, and appreciated it, and sent Lucky back to her. He had a lot to think about, but if he knew only one thing, it was that Lucky was his, and Lucky knew it as well. Secure in that knowledge, Nikolas could be generous.

Besides, Stefan was meeting him for dinner and they had a lot to talk about.

Oddly enough, by the time they got back home that evening and got Gia out of the way, he felt just as off balance as he had when he'd discovered Stefan was alive. They'd talked long into the night, and he'd convinced Stefan to stay in the guest room. Nikolas felt decidedly unsettled and didn't want his uncle too far away just yet. Stefan was hiding something. And Nikolas couldn't help wondering what Helena would do now that her plans for Stefan had been foiled.

No amount of self-reassurance that he was starting at shadows could comfort Nikolas that night. He reached for the telephone, then drew his hand back as he remembered where Lucky was. Out of reach.

With Elizabeth.

Lucky tipped the guy who'd brought them to the cabin and gratefully locked the door. It had been a roller coaster of a day and it wasn't over yet. He smiled at Elizabeth's enthusiasm for the candles and the decor and the huge bed. She was more than ready for this.

So was he, but he was distracted. Nikolas needed him, no matter that he'd practically shoved Lucky out the door to go take Elizabeth away for this romantic weekend getaway. His brother was seriously unsettled by Stefan's return from the dead, and all Lucky's instincts were waving big red flags. Something was off about this whole thing. He knew Nikolas loved Stefan but he also knew Stefan was almost as big a schemer as Helena. He didn't want Nikolas to get hurt.

Again.

Shrugging off the thought that there wasn't a damned thing he could do to protect his brother at the moment, adding the mental footnote that at least with Stefan back Helena had another target in her sight, Lucky took Elizabeth in his arms and did his best to make her first consensual experience a good one. Rape didn't count. That was just a bad memory he'd do his best to take away.

He didn't exactly lie when he said she was his first. She was his first girl, his first love, and the first time he'd made love to a woman when he actually wanted to. Just as rape didn't count with her, it didn't count with him either, and what Helena had done to him was definitely rape. Mind rape and body rape. The only good thing to come out of all of it had been Nikolas.

Burying his face in the sweet-smelling curve of Elizabeth's breasts, he wondered how it could feel so right to make love to her when he loved Nikolas, too. Drawing his hands along the line of her hips, gently pushing her thighs apart and kissing her everywhere he could reach, he realized that he'd made his decision a long time ago. Maybe it had started with what Helena had done to him, but Helena hadn't made him love Nikolas, any more than she could make him not love Elizabeth. He loved them both.

Nikolas was part of him. Elizabeth held his heart in her hands, but Nikolas was his soul. He could no more do without either than he could live without breathing. A peaceful feeling settled over him as he took her in his arms and swallowed her cries. They'd all made it through hell to get to where they were, with the people they loved. He wasn't going to give up either one of them. They were his, just as he was theirs.

When he got back to Port Charles, he'd make damned sure Nikolas knew that, too. Until then, he'd share with Elizabeth every ounce of tenderness he'd ever learned. She was worth it.

So was he.

Lucky smiled over the fact that it was the thought of Nikolas that tripped him into climax. Elizabeth never knew. And if he could help it, she never would.

Sunday Nikolas rode his horse until his spine felt like it had been compressed to mush. Currying took a long time, but not long enough. By the time he returned to the cottage Gia was in bed. It was a good thing. He was confused enough with everything else that was going on in the tangled skein that was his life. He didn't need her tempting him on top of it all.

Stretching out the kinks, stripped to his shorts on the living room floor, he didn't hear her slink down the stairs. The first he was aware of her presence was the breathy little moan she gave when he planted his feet wide and arched his back, hands over his head, neck extended, eyes closed. For a moment, he thought it was Lucky, and he hardened involuntarily. With his pelvis thrust up toward the ceiling he must have given her quite a show, because the second little breathy moan wasn't nearly as quiet as the first one. Letting his breath out he slowly relaxed from the stretch, groaning slightly himself at the release in tension in his muscles.

His erection didn't fade. She looked lovely, posed against the railing, watching him. He could see the hunger in her eyes even across the room. Content to watch and wait, he lay against the exercise mat and returned her stare. Her nerve failed, as it always did when it came down to the wire, and she turned and walked quickly back up the stairs. His hand came down to stroke himself, once, through his shorts, then he took a deep breath and let it out with a gust.

She wasn't really the one he wanted. She was just the one he'd take if he couldn't have the one he wanted. The one he wanted was off in a cabin in the woods making love to Elizabeth. When had his life become so complicated? The small logical voice in the back of his brain that Nikolas both loathed and listened to laughed at him.

When had it ever been anything but complicated?

Swabbing off the sweat with a towel, he wandered up to his room. He paused outside Gia's door, but there were no sounds of movement within, and no signs of welcome without, so he continued on to his room. Throwing himself on the bed, he stared up at the ceiling and wondered what Helena would do next. What Stefan's countermove would be. Where he, Nikolas, would end up in the eternal deadly tug-of-war that was the Cassadine family legacy.

Unsure what prompted the impulse, he pulled his clothes back on and headed out to Windemere. He felt the need to be close to someone he loved, and since Lucky was out with Elizabeth, that left Stefan. He let himself into the mansion and walked silently up the stairs to his old room. Exchanging his outdoor clothing for a pair of sweatpants, he fell into bed.

Stared at the ceiling some more. At least it was a more interesting ceiling than the one at his rental cottage.

He didn't know when he fell asleep. The only thing he knew was that he couldn't move. His arms were strapped to a gurney and his body was naked, shivering in the cold breeze chilling the pure white room. He opened his mouth to scream.

No one heard him.

The door opened, slamming against the padded wall before clanging shut. He heard a lock engage. Two men were standing beside him, towering over him. They were huge, pale-skinned and threatening, dead eyes devouring him. Then their hands were on him, and his mouth was open to scream again, only this time one of them shoved his cock down Nikolas' throat and the scream couldn't escape.

The straps remained around his arms and his wrists, but his legs were free. Before he could kick out, risking suffocation from the heft stretching his throat, his ankles were clasped in a bruising grip and his legs were shoved apart. The second man was straddling the gurney, pulling at his hips, shoving into his ass, splitting him apart. It hurt, and he couldn't scream, couldn't move, couldn't fight, couldn't escape. His eyes were watering and his heart was thundering so loudly in his chest he thought it might explode.

Then the light was blocked to the side of him and he looked past the belly of the man raping his mouth to see Helena standing beside them, smiling beatifically. Her eyes were full of love and madness. She reached out and stroked his cheek with her fingertips, outlining the bulging skin where the man's cock was moving in and out of his mouth.

"My beautiful Nikolas. See what I've done for you? You'll be safe here. No one will ever find you again."

He was struggling for air when he saw another figure beside her. The image was too blurry from the tears swimming in his eyes to determine who it could be. Then the man thrusting into his mouth pulled out and shot sticky fluid all over his face, mixing with the tears and the sweat.

"My turn," the figure said gleefully before leaning in and licking the mess from Nikolas' skin.

Lucky. As he'd been under the spell of Helena's programming. With blank eyes and a vacant expression, lust darkening his eyes. Nikolas tried to cry out, tried to ask him why, then Lucky was feeding Nikolas his cock, moaning in a parody of the passion they had together, and Nikolas was suffocating again. The man between his legs grunted and slammed into him, and Nikolas felt blood and semen ooze from his body as the man was pulled away from him. Dimly in the background he heard a tattoo beaten upon wood, the drum calling the celebrants to the feast, a voice barely heard calling his name.

Before he could appreciate the cessation of pain, another body took the man's place. This one was slight, compact, but still powerful. He thrust into Nikolas' torn body without tenderness, groaning when Nikolas instinctively tightened around him. Lucky arched harder, deeper down Nikolas' throat, and he was able to see around his brother's waist the identity of the man now raping his ass.

Stefan. It couldn't be. This time, somehow, around the bulk in his throat, his scream could be heard.

"Why?!"

Wiry arms were around him, and he was clutching warm cotton and soft skin, crying into the embrace of the man holding him. Words of comfort poured gently from the man's mouth. Nikolas was pulled from the depths of his nightmare world to find himself held tightly in his uncle's arms.

He nearly broke an arm getting away from him. Stefan stared at him, uncomprehending. One hand reached out for him.

"No! Why? You're dead. How could you?" Nikolas knew he wasn't making any sense, but couldn't stop himself from gibbering. In the low light, Stefan appeared ghostly, a specter from the dream world hell who had followed him back into reality.

"You had a nightmare. It's all right. I'm not dead, Nikolas. I'm right here." Stefan looked like he was in pain.

Nikolas remained curled into a small fetal ball against the headboard. After several tries, he got enough moisture into his mouth to be able to form a sentence. "I'm sorry," he eventually managed to say. "You're right. I'm all right. Please. Go back to bed."

Stefan stared at him for a long time before nodding, once. "If you're certain?"

Nikolas nodded, barely containing his relief. He needed to be alone to process this.

After an hour of staring at nothing in particular, he knew he wasn't going to be able to close his eyes for the rest of the night. Dressing silently, he slipped out the door. Perhaps cold air and the sound of the water would clear the last remnants of hell from his subconscious. The boat ride back to the mainland was too short, and his phantoms followed him to the docks. Helena's threat hovered over him like an unshakeable shadow.

He didn't know how long he stood staring into the inky blackness of the water. His hands were numb in his pockets and his cheeks felt stiff from the cold when an arm came around his shoulders and another familiar voice spoke next to his ear.

"Wanna tell me about it, brother, or you gonna stand here 'til you turn into a Popsicle?"

Nikolas turned to face Lucky, watching laughter drain from those blue eyes and worry replace it. He could see his own face reflected in Lucky's eyes, and he looked like death barely warmed over.

"You okay, Nikolas?" Lucky's other arm came around him, and Nikolas leaned into the proffered warmth. Again.

"No," he answered, surprised in a distant way at how calm he sounded.

"What can I do?" Lucky asked without a pause to think. It was one of the aspects Nikolas appreciated most about his brother. He led with his heart.

"Take me home." Warm me up. Save me from my family. From myself.

"No problem." Lucky led him directly up the steps of the wharf to Kelly's, in through the side door, up the stairs and to his room. Nikolas looked blankly at the door to Elizabeth's room, but couldn't find enough energy to ask where she was. He only prayed bleakly she wasn't waiting in Lucky's bed.

Someone somewhere was listening. There was no one in the bed but himself, soon upon entering the room. Lucky didn't press him, simply undressed him, rubbing chilled limbs gently before tucking him between the sheets. Then he perched on the side of the bed and stared down at him.

"You wanna talk about it?"

What? The thought that I'm losing my mind and, even more importantly, losing the match with my grandmother and my uncle? The thought that I could well end up in a mental institution out of need, not conniving, if they continue to catch us up in their warfare? He spoke none of his thoughts, blinking nightmare images away and turning over onto his side, facing away from his brother's too-intent stare. "Can't. Yet. Sorry." He seemed to be apologizing a lot lately.

A warm hand touched his shoulder, then petted his back awkwardly. "What can I do?"

Go away. Come closer. Hold on. Leave me alone. Conflicting thoughts kept Nikolas silent again, but he couldn't control his shivering. Lucky seemed to take that as a cue, climbing into bed and enfolding Nikolas in his arms. The last thing Nikolas remembered before he fell asleep again was that he didn't want to escape that hold. This time, he didn't dream.

In the morning he was awakened by sunlight through the window, a sleepy mouth working against the side of his neck, a lazy erection stroking against his ass and wandering hands teasing him to hardness. The ghosts of the night were blown away by the sheer contentment of feeling safe. Wanted, and safe.

With Lucky beside him, it didn't matter what his family might try to do. He and his brother had beaten them before. They'd beat them again. No matter how crazy their lives were, they were their own, and no one, no matter how devious, would be allowed to take them away from them. He smiled into the pillow at his convoluted but determined thoughts. Then he arched his back, pushing himself against Lucky's cock, groaning low in his throat when his brother took him up on the invitation.

Life was too good to let the shadows of the Cassadine legacy destroy him. And now, he had allies. Stefan, back from the dead. Alexis, set to protect him. Laura, a lioness defending her cubs. And Lucky, buried in Nikolas' soul as he was buried in his body.

Elizabeth woke up with a smile on her face, then reached out to touch Lucky. Her hand brushed the indentation on the pillow, but no shaggy blond head lying there. Her smile sagged. The pillow was cold.

Wherever Lucky had gone, it had been some time ago.

Curious, and not a little concerned given the strange things that Helena had been up to with her boyfriend, Elizabeth dressed hurriedly and headed for the stairs. As she passed Lucky's room, a noise from inside stopped her in her tracks.

The bed springs were squeaking. And somebody was moaning, very, very quietly. It didn't sound like Lucky.

Her brain froze along with her heart. Then fierce anger stormed through her from out of nowhere, sending her into an instant fury. Her hand scrabbled in her pocket, dragging her key ring out. Stabbing the door knob with her key, she started to slam it open, infuriated further when the key got stuck so the door only swung clear a few inches, silently. Just far enough for her to see onto the bed.

What she saw rooted her feet to the carpet. Her hand automatically rose to catch the door, partly to stop it from moving further, partly to stop her from falling when her knees gave out. Lucky wasn't cheating on her with some girl.

Lucky was making love to Nikolas.

And it was definitely making love. What they were doing was much too tender to simply be two guys fucking. Nikolas was lying on his side, one hand clutching the pillow that was not quite muffling his moans, the other angled back behind him to hold on to Lucky's hip. Which was moving.

She recognized the rhythm.

Lucky's head was buried in the curve where Nikolas' neck met his shoulder, and his mouth was open, licking and sucking the skin there. Their skin glistened with sweat and their muscles trembled as they moved against one another. Blood flushed highlights at cheek and throat, chest and groin. The artist in her cataloged and appreciated the intricate knot they made.

Early morning sunlight glanced off the dusting of hair on their bodies, making a striking contrast between Lucky's creamy skin and golden hair and Nikolas' sable hair and caramel skin. Nikolas' mouth was open against the white linen of the pillowcase. His lips looked swollen. His knuckles were pale with strain as he gripped the linen hard in his fist. His eyelashes were long and full, casting shadows on his cheeks. Both men had their eyes shut.

Thank God.

Rational thought was nowhere to be found and she acted on instinct, withdrawing just enough to be able to watch without being seen. Climax caught Nikolas first, and her eyes were drawn to his crotch, the dusky skin rosy between Lucky's fingers. His orgasm splattered against the dark hair on his abdomen, caught like milk spilled across the fur. Lucky made a sound she knew, breath caught in his chest, then rocked hard against Nikolas, much harder than he allowed himself to move against her.

When he stilled, Lucky pressed kisses along the curve of Nikolas' shoulder. Nikolas raised Lucky's hand, sticky with his semen, up to his mouth. He licked a few drops from the palm, then curled the fingers into a fist and dropped a kiss on the knuckles.

There was a gentleness in the moment she couldn't have imagined in her wildest dreams.

Nikolas' eyelashes fluttered and she stepped back into the hall, closing the door silently, locking it and slipping her key out of the handle. From inside she could hear the men murmuring to one another, and she hurried down the stairs as quickly as she could without actually running.

Lucky said he loved her. She knew he loved her. A permanent lock, that's what he'd said. Her love had kept him going.

It looked like it wasn't just her love that kept him going.

Staring through the window at the people passing by on the docks, she wondered what on Earth she was supposed to do now. The man she loved was having an affair. With his brother. Whom she also cared about and didn't want to see hurt. She blinked. It had been obvious from what she'd seen that they really did love one another, too. She had no idea how she was going to handle this little surprise. Life seemed intent on keeping her off balance.

She didn't know how long she stood there, staring blankly at the world going by, before the clatter of footsteps down the stairs brought her attention back to the room. Watching their reflections in the mirror, she saw a vulnerability on Nikolas' face that she'd never seen. Never expected to see, and never looked for. It was matched with a glow in Lucky's she'd only seen when he looked at her. For an instant, jealousy so strong it made her choke washed through her. Then she heard what Nikolas said to Lucky.

"Thank you, little brother. You saved my life last night."

And what Lucky replied. "Anytime. You can talk to me, Nikolas. When you're ready. You know that."

"I know." Then Nikolas smiled at him, a smile she'd never seen but recognized anyway. It was the same one she gave Lucky. The one that said she loved him without her ever having to say a word.

She was still thinking about that smile and those words when Lucky came over and put his arm around her waist. She turned toward him, and he dropped a sweet kiss on her lips. She imagined she could taste Nikolas on him.

To her faint surprise, it didn't disgust her. Quite the opposite. It filled her with warmth. Nikolas loved him. So did she. And he loved both of them. She found herself smiling up at Lucky then turning that smile into a longer kiss.

Just because it was a permanent lock didn't mean it was a proprietary lock. She snuggled up against Lucky's shoulder and felt more than saw him stare off down the road at Nikolas. She could share if she had to, and from the look of it, she did.

His arms tightened around her.

He was worth it.

They both were.

end

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