By Wes Leigh
This is a work of wild fantasy intended solely for the
entertainment of my readers; any resemblance to any real people or places is
purely coincidental. This story involves romance and sex between adult men as
well as between men and teens and preteens, some incestual. If you are uncomfortable
with any of this, please choose another story. This story is the property of
the author and is protected by copyright laws. The author retains all rights.
No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent.
Readers who would like to chat are encouraged to
contact me at weston.leigh@protonmail.com.
If you enjoy this story, please support the Nifty
archives today with a thoughtful donation by visiting https://donate.nifty.org/.
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Aestar linte feer intalle
ha. Thiramen elavil feer ava'to ni'ha.
(Sexual) love sets us gloriously free. (A soulmate's)
love leaves us joyfully bound.
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I woke up the next morning
with Figment using my belly as his pillow, drooling as he slept. Drew was on my
left side, poking my hip with a very hard boy boner. Trace was behind Drew,
spooning him with a big smile on his face. Trace seemed to be having a happy
dream, because he was moaning softly and slowly humping Drew's butt.
I sniffed the air. The
enticing aroma of freshly brewed coffee was drifting into the bedroom, and that
must have been what woke me up.
I carefully
disentangled myself from the sleeping boys and slipped off the bed. Wandering
down the hall, wiping sleep from my eyes, I stopped first in the bathroom to
pee, then continued on to the kitchen.
Rick sat at the
table, naked. He looked up when I came in and motioned toward a chair. "Have a
seat. Coffee will be ready in a few."
As I slid into a
chair, Rick placed a hand on my bare knee. "Did you sleep good?"
I nodded. "Uh huh,
which surprises me because I'm not accustomed to having so many bed partners."
He chuckled. "I am.
It's not often they all get in bed with me, but there's usually one or two. You
get used to it."
I smiled. I had
felt safe, loved, and secure all night. No matter where I turned, there was a
warm body pressed against me and soft arms wrapped around me. To be honest, I
thought I could learn to enjoy sleeping that way.
The coffee maker
spurted and finished percolating the last drop of coffee into the carafe. Rick
walked to the counter and poured two cups, then carried them back to the table.
As he added creamer and sugar to his, he said, "I want you to know how much I
appreciate all you've done for my family, Caleb."
I started to
protest, but he stopped me. "You know it's because of you that Figment started
talking again. I don't know what magic spell you wove, but you're the reason he
opened up last night. For the first time in years."
"I don't know what
spell it was, either. I guess he just decided he was ready to talk."
Rick shook his
head. "I think there's more to it than that. He adores you, Caleb. He has from
the start, and you've made him feel special by asking him to help you with
D&D." Rick stirred his coffee, deep in thought, and asked, "How long have
you loved him?"
I was caught off
guard by that question. Shrugging, I replied, "I'm not sure. I think from the
first moment he climbed into my lap, I felt a bond with him. I can't explain
it. I was jealous of you, having three such beautiful boys. I felt I had missed
out somehow, living all my life without a family, and then along comes Figment.
He doesn't hold back on his affection. He jumps right into my heart and loves
me unconditionally, and I found myself responding without thinking. This little
guy adores me, and I love him."
I sipped my coffee,
thinking back to the moment the night before at our D&D game when Figment had
been sitting in my lap, toying with my erection. I had felt completely at ease
with it. In fact, I had felt drawn to him, connected in a secret but critically
important way. We belonged together, and the sexual intimacy wasn't nasty or
vulgar or immoral. It was simple, an expression of trust and tenderness. In
that moment, I realized I loved him, and I had to tell him, so I leaned down
and kissed him tenderly on the forehead and said, `I love you, Figment.' The
words had come from my heart, and I remembered seeing Figment's beautiful green
eyes twinkling with pleasure upon hearing those words. It seemed he'd been
waiting to hear me say just that and he was finally free to open up to me and
love me back.
I hoped it wasn't
all in my imagination. I added another spoon of sugar to my coffee and smiled
at Rick. "I'm the one who should be thanking you, Rick. You've given me a
special gift. I can't even begin to describe how wonderful it feels to be loved
by you all."
Rick squeezed my
knee. "It goes both ways, Caleb. You're a part of us now, and we need your love
as much as you need ours."
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That evening, we dimmed
the lights to watch a movie. The boys had picked it, a goofy action thriller
with superheroes making snarky comments as they saved the planet. Naturally,
clothing was discarded by everyone in favor of sexy comfort.
I reclined on one end
of the couch with my legs sticking out in front of me. Figment's naked body was stretched out on top
of me, using me as his personal cushion. His head was tucked under my chin, his
soft butt was nestled over my boner, and his warm back rested on my chest and
tummy. My hands were massaging his smooth chest, his soft belly, and his hard
three-inch spike.
The movie droned on
while the rest of the family found other ways to be entertained. Trace was
slowly stroking Rick's cock while Drew fondled his dad's balls. Watching them,
I had to giggle. They were treating their dad's gear like a favorite toy that
you absentmindedly played with while doing something else at the same time.
Figment turned his head
and whispered, "What's so funny?" In the movie, the heroes were facing a
particularly deadly threat, so Figment must have wondered why I was laughing at
that particular moment.
I slid both my hands up
to his chest and hugged him, loving how the soft skin of his back felt against the
small tuft of hair on my chest. "It's nothing, Figment. I'm just noticing how your
brothers play with your dad without really thinking about what they're doing."
"They love each other,"
Figment stated, as if it was an obvious fact I had missed.
"That they do," I
agreed, kissing him on the top of his head.
"Do you love me?" he
asked. His voice caught at the end. Could it be he was still uncertain about
how I felt toward him.
I squeezed him until he
grunted softly, then I relaxed my hug and whispered, "With all my heart, sweet
boy."
He rolled over and
wiggled his small erection against my bigger, hairier boner and settled down,
belly to belly, chest to chest, with his cheek nuzzling under my chin. "I love
you, Caleb, with all my heart. I've decided to make you my forever lover."
I tried not to laugh.
He was only ten, and besides, it made my heart leap to hear him say it. I gave
him another kiss, a tender peck on the top of his head, and whispered, "How
lucky I am."
Figment turned slightly
and toyed with my chest hair. "Not lucky, Caleb. Chosen. I've chosen you, and I
hope you'll choose me too, as your soulmate, the love of your life."
"Oh, I do. I choose you
every day. You're my special love, my Figment, and we belong together."
Figment sat up and
scooted around until his butt was sitting on my belly and his hands were on my
shoulders, holding me down while he stared intently into my eyes. "Do you mean
that, or are you teasing me?"
I looked up at Figment.
His light green eyes sparkled in the light from the television. Did I mean it?
I wasn't teasing, that much I knew, but how much of a commitment could I make
to this boy, considering the enormous difference in our ages? Could he even
understand, at the tender age of ten, what it means to choose another person as
the love of your life?
And yet, as we stared
at other, I felt our souls making a deep connection in that moment. Despite my
every misgiving, my soul made the commitment I was hesitant to give. I looked
deep into Figment's eyes and felt my heart skip a beat. I didn't understand it.
I quit trying. I looked at Figment and said, "I choose you, Figment, to love as
my soulmate, from this moment forward."
His face screwed up as
he began to cry. He leaned forward, kissing me frantically on the lips, the
nose, the cheeks, pouring out tears that soaked my face and fell into my mouth,
salty testaments to how much he loved me.
I turned and saw Rick
watching us, a tender smile on his face. He nodded his head, sending me a
silent signal of his approval, then he stood up and said, "I'll make us some
popcorn."
"You want us to pause
the movie?" Trace asked.
"No. I've seen it
before," Rick replied. He headed for Figment and me, patting his youngest son
on the back as he walked by, then leaning down to kiss me on the cheek.
What have I gotten
myself into?
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The movie was still
playing, but no one was watching it.
Drew was gasping in
joyful pain as Rick thrust his cock up into Drew's tight ass. I had watched as
Rick patiently fingered Drew, loosening the thirteen-year-old's tight hole and slicking
it up with lube. Trace had helped, first smearing lube all over Rick's cock,
then lifting Drew's leg to gain access to Drew's taint and balls. Now Trace was
sucking Drew's cock while Rick worked his way deeper with each thrust.
Drew's body was shaking.
His legs were stretched out. His toes were pointed in ecstasy. It was obvious
he was cumming, and Trace was eagerly swallowing
every drop. Rick paused and waited for Drew to finish spasming. When Drew relaxed, Rick started again, thrusting slowly in and
out. Drew sighed and caressed the side of Trace's face, encouraging his big
brother to keep sucking.
Trace pulled off and
asked, "Can I do you after Dad cums?"
Drew nodded. "Uh huh,
but don't stop sucking, Trace. It's starting to feel awesome."
Trace quickly slurped
Drew's five-inch boner back into his mouth, bobbing quickly up and down.
Figment and I watched
as the other members of his family made passionate love only a few feet away. Figment
seemed amused by it all, but he was squeezing my erection the entire time and
slowly humping his small boner against my hip. He turned to me and whispered,
"We could do that too."
I tore my eyes away
from Rick and his boys and looked at Figment. "What they're doing?"
Figment nodded. "We're
soulmates. Our souls are joined forever, but our bodies have never been
properly melded."
I frowned in confusion.
"I don't understand what you mean, Figment."
He grinned bashfully.
"You know what I'm saying, Caleb."
I'm sure my face
blushed bright red in that moment. I did know what Figment was implying, and my
cock throbbed at the thought, burping out a drop of precum.
Figment was slowly
jerking me off at the time, and when his hand slipped over the end of my cock,
he noticed the drop of slippery liquid pooled on the end. His small fingers
toyed with it, smearing it all over the top of my cock, bringing another drop
oozing out.
While he played with my
cock, he whispered, "I want you inside me, like my dad is inside Drew. I want
to feel you loving me, like my dad loves Drew."
I shook my head,
denying his request, knowing it was something I could never do. "You're too
young, Figment. I'm too big. I don't want to hurt you."
He placed a finger on
my lips, silencing me. "You won't hurt me. I know you'll be gentle, and I want
you to love me. Tonight. Now."
"Figment, please don't
ask me to do this."
"You said you love me,
Caleb. Are you saying you don't?"
"No, that's not what
I'm saying," I replied, frustrated. "I do love you. That will never change, but
I think it's too soon for this. For both of us."
Figment's eyes
hardened. "I don't," he replied. He reached over to the table where Trace had
left the tube of lubricant and grabbed the container. Figment snapped open the
lid and squirted a generous glob onto my cock, from the tip to the base. Then
he rubbed the lubricant all over my throbbing cock, coating every inch. Figment
squirted out another dollop of lube onto his fingers and reached behind him,
working it into his butt. Satisfied with his preparations, he straddled my
stomach and reached behind him, lifting my cock and pointed it at an angle. Then
he scooted back a bit, and I felt the tip of my cock sliding around in the
cleft of his ass, catching on a small indentation. Figment pushed back, and I
felt his flesh spreading slowly around the end of my cock, spreading wider, gaping,
popping open and accepting me inside.
I gasped and held
Figment's thighs. I couldn't believe how easily I'd slid up into his body.
He was breathing slow
and deep, smiling gently. He rocked forward slightly and settled back, forcing
me halfway in. He rocked again, pushing carefully until his butt cheeks were
pressed against my hips and crushing my pubic hair. He smiled down at me and
whispered, "Now ... love me, Caleb."
I moved my hands to his
thin, throbbing cocklet. So small, but so hard. So
aroused. So hot beneath my fingers. I stroked him and fondled his balls as he
slowly rocked over me, sinking my cock fully inside. His flesh gripped me,
squeezing down, sliding all along my length. I groaned and whispered, "Oh,
Figment ..."
He picked up speed,
rising until my cock almost slipped out, then forcing himself back down. I
began thrusting up, matching his motions, smacking into his butt with each
lunge. His mouth opened slightly as he took in short, quick breaths. I stroked
him faster and squeezed his small, hairless balls. He gasped and held his
breath, shoving himself down onto my cock. I felt his body spasming, squeezing
me. His small boner throbbed and jumped. My body responded to his dry orgasm
with an explosive burst of cum, launched deep into Figment's body.
Figment sagged and
dropped down onto my chest, with my cock still lodged inside him, and rested on
top of me, breathing slow and deep. He whispered, "Now we are melded, and our
love is complete."
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I spent the rest of
the week at the apartment with Rick and the boys. I only drove to my place when
I needed a change of clothing, and Drew and Figment decided to accompany me. Now
that I was `part of the family', they seemed hesitant to allow me out of their
sight.
Maybe some people
would find that annoying or creepy or confining. Not me. I enjoyed having the
boys holding my hands as we walked up the driveway to the house, then following
me into my bedroom and helping me to pick out clothes to take over to their
place.
Drew made me laugh
when I opened my underwear drawer and he said I needn't bother with shorts, but
I should get some fresh socks for my stinky feet.
Figment peeked in
the drawer and lifted out a pair of skimpy bikini briefs, neon blue in color. He
held them up to my crotch, giggled and threw them onto the bed. "Maybe just
these. They look fun."
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Sometimes a Dungeon
Master makes mistakes. I wasn't infallible, and as a DM, my priority was to
make the game fun for everyone, but I made a huge mistake that Friday night, a
mistake that I immediately tried to fix but failed.
After spending all week
with Rick and the boys, there seemed to be a subliminal connection between the
five of us. I don't know how else to describe it. We were bound together now
through our shared experiences, through our uninhibited love-making, through
our joking dinner conversations. We understood each other. I could look at the
boys with a painful grimace on my face, and they'd all break down in laughter,
remembering how I had shown the same expression the night before when Trace was
pounding me from behind. This close bond between us had an inevitable effect on
our D&D game, and it was my fault for not noticing until it was too late.
The game was
progressing nicely, with the party members heading deep into a swamp to
confront yuan-ti abominations, bizarre creatures with
a snake's lower body and head, but with humanoid shoulders and arms.
"The swamp path seems
to be closing in around you," I said. "Very little light penetrates the dense
overgrowth above. It's shadowed and dreary in here, and the thick leaves brush
against you as you force your way forward, so naturally you don't notice the
quicksand until Rick's paladin stumbles into it and begins sinking. What do you
do?"
"I think we should
leave him and find another way around," Trace said, trying not to laugh.
Rick poked Trace in the
side. "Is that how you treat the man who provides you with pizza and
breadsticks."
Figment and Drew snorted
and began laughing. The night before, Trace had pretended to suck on a
breadstick like it was Drew's cock, at one point holding the breadstick next to
his brother's five-inch boner to show how similar they were in size.
"I don't like
breadsticks. They give me bad breath," Trace replied.
"That's not what you
said last night," Drew interjected, chortling.
Trace popped Drew on
the back of the head, and they got into a wrestling contest, ending up in the
floor, rolling around and laughing. I watched and chuckled at their antics,
hugging Figment against my chest. Rick told them to get up and cut out the
juvenile behavior.
As they climbed back
into their chairs, Mark glanced at me with a frustrated frown. I suppose he
expected me, as the DM, to keep the game moving along. "Wouldn't the druid have
noticed quicksand?" Mark asked, turning to Sheri to back him up.
Sheri checked her
character sheet and added, "I do have a +9 bonus on survival and nature checks.
Maybe I can see signs that the ground is getting squishy."
That's when I made my
mistake. Always before, I tried to make the game a grand adventure starring the
players in our group. If they came up with a creative solution to one of my
puzzles, I adjusted the direction of the adventure to accommodate their
solution. But that night, I had something entirely different planned. I wanted
to highlight Rick's heroism, his willingness to sacrifice himself for the good
of the others. I intended for the quicksand to swallow him before the party
could react, only to have him show up later as a captive of the snake-like
yuan-ti. Rick and I had talked about it before the
game, working together to figure out a way for his character to appear to die,
only to resurface later at an unexpected moment, rescuing the rest of the party
against overwhelming odds. So when Mark and Sheri
pointed out what I had missed—that a druid with Sheri's nature skills might
have noticed the quicksand in advance—I had to come up with a reasonable
explanation for why she missed it.
"Well, she was at the
back of the group," I explained, "so she didn't see it until it was too late."
"The ground wasn't even
a little squishy?" Sheri asked.
Thinking fast, I
replied, "No. Firm and solid. You might almost think the yuan-ti set a trap, using the natural terrain to create a
quicksand pit right in the middle of the path you were following."
Mark shook his head.
"But we said we're walking slowly so I can check for traps as we go. I know we
were looking for vine snares and dart traps and that sort of thing, but
wouldn't I have noticed a pit filled with quicksand?"
He had me there. His
rogue had been looking for exactly that, and I had completely forgotten it. I
had spent all week working with Rick on the details of this trap and the ways
his sons could use their skills as a barbarian and sorcerer to rescue him, but
I had forgotten that there were two others in the party also. A trap-detecting
rogue and a druid with deep knowledge of the natural world would have prevented
the mess I had planned. I was stuck, caught in a trap of my own making, and it
wasn't filled with quicksand.
I tried one more time
to answer their objections. "The trap is cleverly designed, escaping the casual
notice of your druid and also confusing your rogue, who was looking for mechanical
traps. Rick, your paladin sinks quickly. His armor is heavy and pulls him under
the surface of the quicksand. What are doing to stop your descent?"
Rick winked at me and
said, "I stab down with my sword, trying to find solid ground to push up against."
"Your efforts make the
problem worse," I replied. "You feel something solid beneath you, but the
moment you push against it, it gives way and you sink rapidly out of sight."
Drew stared at me,
surprised. "You killed Dad's character?"
Trace snorted and
laughed. "Seriously? He's gone?"
I nodded. Figment
giggled and said, "Without a trace." Figment knew what we were planning, and
he'd been delighted with our plans to suck his dad out-of-sight in full view of
the rest of the party.
Mark looked at Sheri,
shrugged, and said, "I guess I'll move up next to the barbarian and we'll look
for a way around the quicksand."
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The rest of the
scenario played out much as I had planned.
Trace stepped up his
game, dominating his foes with risky play and lucky dice rolls. He had a
terrific time, because he felt like the hero of the night, leading the party through
the swamp and fearlessly beating down every creature that attacked.
Drew experimented with
his spells, looking for new ways to use them on the yuan-ti
and the other denizens of the swamp. He was particularly clever with his use of
a hypnotic pattern spell to defeat the yuan-ti
sorcerers. I expected it, but I was pleased to see him defeating the villains
with cunning spell use.
Mark's play, on the
other hand, was mechanical and bored. He fought next to the barbarian,
dispatching foes from behind, but he frowned the entire time he rolled the
dice. When the party discovered chests of treasure, he didn't offer to check
for traps. Trace's barbarian was pricked by a poison needle inside one of the
traps, but Mark simply shrugged, unconcerned.
Sheri was her usual
chipper self, running around and healing party members when they needed her, transforming
into a giant wolf to attack yuan-ti when the rest of
the party was at full health. She noticed Mark's sour attitude and the way I
was struggling (and failing) to get everyone involved in the game, but she
didn't say anything.
After one particularly
complex battle, I called for a break, claiming I needed to look up a few things
to prepare for the final confrontation. Rick took his boys to the front of the
game shop to buy drinks. I opened one of my books and refreshed my memory on
black dragon abilities.
Sheri and Mark sat
there, not talking, staring at their character sheets.
I put my books away and
said, "Look, guys, I'm sorry about earlier."
Mark refused to look
up, but Sheri turned to me and shrugged. "It's no big deal," she said. "I know
you had something fun planned for us, and we threw you for a loop."
Sighing, I replied,
"That's certainly true, but you're right. Either your druid or Mark's rogue
should have noticed the trap and warned the party before the paladin fell into
it."
"Really, Caleb, it's
okay," Sheri insisted. "We're all enjoying ourselves, so don't worry about it."
Mark nodded. "Trace and
Drew are having a terrific time. That's all that matters."
Mark's attitude
exasperated me, but he had a good point. I had been trying to make the game fun
for my new family and had forgotten to keep it interesting for Mark and Sheri,
who had been faithfully playing with me for months now. "Look, guys," I
offered, "the next scenario will feature special puzzles designed to challenge
the most observant rogue and the most canny druid. I
promise to spread the love, okay?"
Mark stood up and
turned to Sheri, "I think I'll grab a soda. You want anything?"
"Sure, babe. Lemonade.
If they have it."
Mark walked away, his
hands in his pockets, his shoulders slumped as he stared at the floor.
Sheri sighed and said,
"Don't pay any attention to him, Caleb. He's grumpy tonight."
"He's also right,
Sheri. I messed up. I should have come up with a more logical way of explaining
why you guys missed that trap."
Sheri studied me for a
few seconds, then laughed. "Oh, I see now. The always-infallible, ever-seeing,
all-knowing DM must never be caught unprepared by clever party members who come
up with unexpected solutions to his puzzles."
I chuckled. "You know
me too well."
Sheri placed her hand
over mine, gently squeezing. "Caleb, what you're doing for these boys is
wonderful. I've seen how much they've changed over the last few weeks. You're
casting your usual spell over all of them, drawing them into the story, making
them feel like the heroes of their own personal saga. It's what you did for
Mark and me when we first started playing. It's why we're still playing. You've
made the game fun for all of us, and it will be Mark's turn to shine the next
time we play. He'll be okay. You'll see."
"I hope so. Thanks for
being so understanding, Sheri."
Smiling, she replied,
"You're a good man, Caleb Malcolm. As a DM and a friend. Rick is lucky to have
you, and so are we." She stood up and gave me a quick hug. "Mark's having a rough
week. He didn't get accepted for that graduate assistant program he applied
for, so he's kinda down about that. Trust me. Next
week, he'll be back, practicing his roguish ways."
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͠ ͠
I'm not sure how it
happened, but Rick drove his car to pick up Chinese takeout while I had all
three boys in my car, driving them home to their apartment. Trace sat next to
me in the front passenger seat. Figment and Drew sat in the back seat.
Drew began joking
around, as usual, this time pretending to be car sick. I watched in my rear-view
mirror as he wiped his forehead, panted, and began making gagging noises. I
didn't want to encourage him, so I didn't comment, focusing on my driving.
Trace got a bit fed up
with it and turned around to glare at Drew. "Cut it out, you little ass."
Drew stopped messing
around until Trace turned away, then leaned over and pulled Figment's tee-shirt
up to wipe his face, which made Figment giggle and push him away.
I tried not to smile,
but I couldn't help it. Drew's antics always made me feel young again,
reminding me of the carefree silliness that every boy should have.
Apparently, Trace was
no longer a boy and there wasn't an ounce of silliness remaining in him. He
turned back quickly and yelled, "I said stop it!"
Drew sat up, eyes wide,
and held his body absolutely still in the face of his big brother's fury.
Trace glared at Drew
one more time, muttered, "I mean it," and turned back to face forward.
I watched in the
mirror. As soon as Trace wasn't watching, Drew's face broke into a mischievous
grin and he leaned forward, faking a fit of vomiting ... all over Trace's neck.
In a flash, Trace spun
around and punched Drew in the nose. Drew's head flew back and his nose began
spurting blood. Drew didn't say a word, but held his nose, getting blood all
over his hand and face.
"Oh, crap!" I shouted,
looking for a safe place to pull over.
Trace immediately
started apologizing. "I'm so sorry, Caleb."
I pointed at the glove
box. "Look in there, Trace. I think there might be napkins or something he can
use to catch the blood."
Trace found the napkins
and passed them back to Figment, who frantically pressed them against Drew's
face. Drew squeezed his nose shut and wiped away as much of the blood as he
could. His eyes were filled with tears, and he refused to look at Trace.
Trace gritted his teeth
and snapped, "I told you to stop. You didn't listen. Damnit, Drew. I'm sorry,
but I told you to cut it out twice."
Drew's response was
slightly muffled by the napkins and his pinched nose. "You need to learn to
take a joke, asshole."
"It wasn't funny!"
Trace shouted.
Drew pointed at me.
"Caleb thought it was!"
"Well, I didn't!" Trace
yelled, growing angry once again.
I decided I had better
intervene before things got out of hand. "Hey, guys, let's calm down and just
get home—"
Figment interrupted me,
screaming at his brothers, "Bren nha col n'sen var edilar lor kar!"
Trace and Drew both
stared at Figment, stunned into silence. Drew leaned back in his seat, holding
the napkins to his face. Trace turned around, facing forward, jaw clinching.
Figment began crying,
dropping his face into his lap and covering his head with both arms.
`Well, shit!' I said to
myself, putting the car in gear and driving on.
͠
͠ ͠
We made it to the
apartment without any more major meltdowns. Trace stomped off to the boy's
bedroom. Drew went to the bathroom to wash off the blood. Figment curled up on
the couch, refusing to talk to me about what had just happened. With nothing
better to do, I walked into the kitchen and started setting the table.
Rick arrived to a deathly
quiet house. Trace met him at the door and quietly filled him in. Rick nodded
and handed Trace the bags of Chinese carryout, then went in the bathroom to
check on Drew, while Trace and I set the food on the table and poured drinks.
Drew wandered into the
kitchen, the faintest of smiles returning to his face. His nose looked red and
slightly swollen, but he seemed fine otherwise. He playfully bumped against
Trace, and Trace—with a mandatory eye-roll—gave Drew a one-armed hug.
Rick entered the dining
room with Figment trailing behind him. We all took our seats and began filling
our plates. The meal was subdued, with a few words here and there. It certainly
wasn't a happy occasion.
After we finished eating,
Rick sent the boys into the living room to watch a movie while he and I cleaned
up. As we stood next to each other at the sink, washing the dishes, Rick said,
"They are behaving as they should, but they shouldn't be as they are."
I couldn't have been
more confused. "I don't get your meaning," I admitted.
"Well, it's hard to
explain." He began drying glasses with a towel. "My boys shouldn't be this way.
Trace shouldn't be so volatile and moody, and Drew shouldn't joke around every
moment of every day. Drew gets on Trace's nerves, and I swear sometimes he
deliberately picks at his big brother just to see how Trace will respond. Drew knows
Trace can pound him into next week, but Drew gets tired of Trace's surliness. Trace
gets fed up with Drew's antics, and for Trace, the only way to respond when
someone attacks you is to hit back, hard and fast."
I nodded. "I was a
first-hand witness to that."
Rick sighed. "Those two
are like fire and water. Complete opposites."
I thought back to what
Figment had told me the week before. How had Figment described his family? Like
the seasons of the year? That was a better analogy for his brothers. Spring and
summer. Different, but not complete opposites, but definitely not in agreement
either.
"I can't ask Trace to
stop being fire," Rick continued. "It is what he is, even though he burns
himself and others when he explodes like this. All I can ask is that he control
his outbursts better."
"And stop punching his
brother in the nose?" I asked.
Rick sighed. Nodding
his head, he asked, "Did you get blood all over your car?"
"No. We caught it in
time. Is Drew okay?"
"He's fine. His nose is
sore. He'll joke around a little less for the next five minutes, and then he'll
be back to his old self again."
"And Figment?"
Rick dried the last
glass and dropped the towel on the cabinet. "He may need some reassurance from
his soulmate."
I nodded and dried my
hands. "I'll talk to him."
͠
͠ ͠
I sat next to
Figment on the couch. He crawled up into my lap and snaked his arms around my
chest, hugging me as I rocked him gently.
"You
okay?" I whispered.
He nodded and
nuzzled his cheek into my chest.
"Wanna talk about
it?" I asked.
He shook his head,
gulping and sniffling.
I continued rocking
him slowly, rubbing his side with one hand.
Eventually, he
whispered, "I didn't want them to do that."
"I didn't either,"
I replied, "but sometimes brothers argue and get in fights. And then they
forgive each other."
Figment nodded and
snuggled even closer. "I'm sorry too."
"For what, sweet
boy?"
"For screaming at
them."
"Well, we were all
upset. At least you didn't punch anyone." I tickled his ribs and he giggled.
"No. I didn't punch
anyone. That's what Trace does. I don't punch. And I don't joke around like
Drew."
"You just yell
magical spells at the top of your lungs and make everyone stop fighting," I
teased.
Figment nodded his
head and hugged me again.
"What was it you
said, Figment? In my car?"
He mumbled, "I
don't really wanna say."
"Okay." I didn't
want to press him, but I was still curious. "You don't have to tell me, if you
don't want to."
He seemed to be
thinking about it. Finally, sighing softly, he looked up at me. "It was Elvish,
not a magical spell. I said, `This is not what you were created to do!' They
were messing everything up. I had to stop them somehow."
"Okay, I
understand." I hugged him and rocked him, but despite my assurances to Figment,
I didn't really understand. None of it made sense. Not Rick's explanation. Not
Figment's cry. And especially not the way Figment shouted at his brothers in a
make-believe language that seemed more natural to him than English.
I didn't understand
any of it.
The end of Chapter Six of FIGMENT