“Have you considered my proposal?” Manny stood close, knees touching, blocking the sunlight, and Moe lazily squinted one eye, setting the book aside.
"Manny..." Moe sighed, weighing his words carefully. He could tell that Manny was deeply invested, having veered off course due to his youth and naivete and mistaken human warmth for genuine affection. "You're young, handsome, and charming..." “Cut to the chase!” Manny snapped, accidentally hitting his knee.
“My answer is no,” Moe firmly stated, putting his feet on the chair and causing it to rock with the movement. He eased back into the suspended wicker seat, casting a regretful glance at the crestfallen Manny.
“It's all because of Einar! If he hadn't claimed you for himself, you wouldn't have refused so easily!” Manny struck the beam forcefully, not flinching at the pain. Moe clicked his tongue, gazing at Manny's bloody knuckles—feeling sorry for the boy, but understanding there was no other option. It was better to lay the cards on the table, rip off the band-aid, and let time sort things out.
“Einar has nothing to do with it; I have a mind of my own,” Moe shrugged, feigning indifference. “You and I are too different, Manny- I'm older than you...”
“I don't care!” Manny shouted in frustration, his southern eyes flashing. “I don't care! You're twenty-four, and I'm eighteen, a six-year difference which might seem significant now, but in a decade or two, it won't matter at all. We have a couple in our family where the omega is nine years older than the husband, and they're happy together.”
“Omega,” Moe repeated softly. “Not beta.”
“So what!!!” Manny angrily stomped his foot, and Moe smiled—a child after all, one who stomps his feet when he doesn’t get what he wants. “Omega or beta, not an alpha!”
“You're deceiving yourself, Manny; you've never experienced a genuine trusting relationship, so you mistook your feelings for me," something inside him pricked, reminding him of his own deception. Moe cleared his throat and continued quietly. “You'll find your man someday, love openly, and be happy. I'm not the one for you.”
“Don’t you have any feelings for me at all?” Manny asked desperately, attempting to capture the elusive gaze. “You admitted that I'm attractive; I've even been offered modelling opportunities. But Einar hasn't!”
"Why do you care about Einar?" Moe grumbled, clutching the wicker edges to pull himself out. “Stop trying to compete with him. He has his path, and you have yours. If you keep looking up to him, you'll never carve out your own way.”
“I do care!” Manny closed off his retreat. “Unfortunately, he's my brother and my guardian, and my therapist told me that I would automatically role-model him in the absence of a father, so I can't shake off the comparison just yet. And you're attracted to him—that's enough for me to try to understand why you're drawn to him.”
“We just-“Moe, hesitating on whether to push further or not, froze in an awkward pose, head tilted up to meet Manny's gaze. “We had no-strings-attached sex; it happens between adults, Manny. There's no underlying complexity, it's all straightforwardly unambiguous.”
“Why don’t you want to give casual sex a try with me?” Manny firmly grasped the edges of the wicker, covering it like a spider covers the web. “It's been three weeks since you've been with him; you do crave a good fuck occasionally, don't you?
“What do you think?” Moe let out an exasperated sigh, feeling a blush creep up his cheeks in embarrassment.
“I believe you do, and I'm patiently waiting,” Manny lowered his voice to an affectionate whisper. “And I'm relieved he's giving you space. If you're concerned about my experience, don't be - I assure you, I lost my virginity a long time ago, and I've had a fair share of sex, with no complaints.”
“Are you practicing your sales pitch?” Moe, having overcome a momentary embarrassment, grinned suggestively. “It's not quite convincing yet; I suppose it's time for you to disclose the size in inches and how many times a night you can go, so I can get the full picture and start considering.”
“Don’t reduce it to a joke, ”Manny crouched down, encircling his arms around Moe's waist and drawing him close. “Moe, please, come with me. I won't treat you like Einer does, won't keep you hidden from society. I'll be upfront about you being my chosen one. I desire you so much, you can't imagine. Not just for sex, though that too, of course, but also to hold you, kiss you, accompany you everywhere, spend all my free time with you. I don't have much time left; you're about to leave.”
“I won't,” Moe stubbornly declared, extricating himself from Manny’s hands. “And I won't date you. It's for your own good, Manny; you don't want a wanderer with no family or roots.”
“How can you know who I truly want or don't want?” Manny ran his hands through his hair once more. “You can't get into my head and pinpoint exactly what matters to me and what I need, so just try to have faith in me. I've never been this certain about my desires before.”
“That's because you lack life experience,” Moe playfully flicked his nose. “A few relationships with the feeling of 'I need him so desperately or I'll perish,' and then you'll begin to distinguish and understand your feelings more deeply. Just let it go.”
Manny withdrew his hands reluctantly and stood up, observing Moe emerging from the comfortable wicker, stretching his tense muscles. A poignant expression of doom lingered on his face, his lips quivering sadly, and Moe averted his gaze, determined not to be alone with him for the remainder of the contract. He retrieved a book, awkwardly sidestepped, and Manny halted him, touching Moe’s fingers pleadingly.
“Can't you at least have a drink with me?”
“You can't drink,” Moe retorted promptly, and Manny's temper finally ignited.
“There are so many things I can't do in this fucking life! To freely roam without bodyguards, to date whomever I please, to take a gap year like my classmates, exploring Europe and Asia for a year before going to university! I need some relief from this prison of a life!”
Okay, okay, take it easy," Moe gestured peaceably as he walked towards the stairs. “I don't think a glass of wine would hurt, so let's have a drink. But after that, I'm heading to my room, and we won't revisit this topic, alright?”
“I've got a bottle of Château d'Yquem saved up; Patrick mentioned it's your favorite,” Manny grinned with delight, playfully urging Moe toward his bedroom.
“Why are you taking me there?” Moe asked with suspicion. “Why not just have a drink in the living room?”
“To give the servants something to report to Einer about?” Manny raised a skeptical eyebrow, and Moe sighed, regretting his acquiescence. It seemed another twenty minutes of tedious conversation were in the offing.
“Fine, let's go,” Moe placed the book on the table, stretched, rubbed his back, and entered Manny's bedroom first. He cautiously made his way to the spacious window bench, adorned with a soft mattress and pillows, avoiding the bed—no need to provide the young predator with an opportunity to pounce. Seating himself with legs tucked under, he waited for Manny to join him.
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As Manny uncorked the bottle, leaning over it, Moe admired the winter garden as it darkened and took on a pinkish hue in the evening light. The evergreen topiary, dusted with a delicate layer of snow, exuded a Christmas-like charm, while the tall, bare trees carried a subtle touch of melancholy. The frozen garden possessed a wintry allure. Crouching beside Manny, Moe took another look at the garden, then handed him a glass.
“Here's to happiness, Moe,” Manny toasted, he clinked his glass and took the first sip, gazing at Moe with an inscrutable tension.
“To happiness,” Moe breathed in the tart floral and berry fragrance, discerning notes of honeysuckle, elderberry, and peach as he took a sip with delight. He savored the subtle and complex flavor, trying to pinpoint an unfamiliar taste that resonated with a peculiar note. After a few more sips in an attempt to identify this elusive element, he lifted his puzzled gaze to Manny, who was focused on his own glass. With a distinct sense of irritation, Moe realized that Manny had gone all in.
Waking up was hard- the date-rape drug in the wine induced drowsiness, maintaining his rigid body in an awakened state, yet the clamorous voices echoing above his lifeless form rudely yanked him from his imposed slumber. Throbbing bells pounded on his temples as Moe grappled to open his eyelids, attempting to focus on the sounds. Einer, pallid with eyes aflame with fury, was berating the half-dressed Manny, lashing out with profanities, while Manny vehemently retorted in an incendiary, unrestrained manner.
“Yes, he belongs to me now!” Manny bellowed in a fit of rage. “Let him go, Einer! You have an official fiancé; go to him!”
“You don't dictate to me, you little shit!” Einar snarled. “Back the fuck off!”
“He chose me, got it?” Manny cried out from the forceful hit, but swiftly retaliated. “He's fed up with your double-dealing, got it? He prefers me, he prefers me! He was just fucking you!”
“What the fuck...” Moe murmured, rubbing his temples and attempting to sit up. “Knock it off...” he blinked, surveying his surroundings in astonishment - he was down to his underwear and adorned with revealing marks. Manny, that fucker! A scenario of two in bed and a third man in the closet. Fucking hell!
Einer, without expending further energy on words, landed several fierce blows on Manny, sending him to the ground and lunging at him. Manny only groaned, shielding himself with a block, as he had been taught. Making an inhuman effort, Moe struggled to stand up, swaying, and grabbed Einer by the shoulders, attempting to pull him away from his brother - it seemed like the possessive man could brutally beat Manny in a frenzy of rage.
Einer, snarling, turned around, sneered in disgust, and stormed off, now grabbing Moe and forcefully pulling him along.
“You bastard... You're such a bastard, Moe! This is your way of getting back at me, isn’t it? Do not move!” He overwhelmed the weak resistance of Moe and hurried to his room. Moe could hardly breathe, powerful hands constricting his chest like an iron hoop, and he fought for breath, but Einar tightened his grip even more and whisked away.
He threw Moe onto the bed, hurried to the door, locked it, and hastily started undressing, shedding the clothes that snapped while Moe lethargically moved to the other side of the bed, attempting to shake off the drug-induced weakness. There wasn't a specific fear, just a muted irritation at Manny for putting on a disgusting show, and at himself for allowing the trap. There was no use in explaining - Einar's furious expression made it clear that acceptance or understanding were not options.
“So, you don’t care who you fuck?” Einar ripped his clothes off, threw himself onto the bed, and grabbed Moe by the ankles, instantly spreading his legs wide and pinning him to the bed. “You look perfect this way! How did he get you? Hmm?”
“You've got the wrong idea, Manny...” Moe hesitated- revealing that Manny had drugged him could lead to trouble, and there was no guarantee that Einar would believe him. He sealed his lips, tightening them, accepting the blame.
“What don’t I realize?” Einar grinned unpleasantly. “You slept in his bed covered in hickeys, and he even tried to mark you- mark a beta!” He jabbed painfully at Moe’s neck, and the dazed Moe felt a fresh bite, moaning wistfully, "What an asshole!”
“It doesn't matter,” his tongue moved slowly, barely obeying. “Let go. I don't owe you anything.”
“I don't owe you anything...” Einer froze, swallowing strangely, jerking his Adam’s apple.
“How about you create a dramatic scene for your fiancé, fucking Othello?” Moe, relieved by the pause, pulled away, slipping out and moving to the edge of the bed to stand up. “I won't be here in a week; this isn’t worth a scandal.”
“Where do you think you're going? I'm not finished with you yet,” Einar yanked him back by the arm, piling him on top of him, breathing hotly in his face, and swiftly removed Moe's underpants without getting up. “I don't think you're going to need them. So, you went to bed with Manny because of Eddie? You want to be in his shoes?”
“I don't want anything, let go,” Moe pressed his weak palms against Einar's chest helplessly, and jerked as Einar's fingers pushed inside, finding the unmistakable spot of pleasure. “Enough.”
Einar moved his fingers, observing Moe's contorted face, grinning.
“Always wet, always ready Moe, who desires nothing but acts like he desires everything," Einar withdrew his fingers and positioned himself. “If you want to replace Eddie, you can do that, but Manny is off-limits. Do you want me, Moe? Do you want me after my younger brother?” He playfully nudged his head against the entrance, nibbled on a sensitive nipple, and Moe moaned; he truly desired it, and Einar could sense his hard longing with his abdomen.
“Just do it already,” Moe instinctively turned away to conceal his evident pleasure, and yelped when, in sync with the forceful penetration, Einar, growling, nestled into his neck, covering Manny's mark with his own. “Fuck!”
Einar varied speeds and positions, delivering biting kisses, inflicting painful squeezes, pushing Moe to the brink of orgasm only to crush the release, propelling Moe into a scorching, heightened frenzy that dispelled the lingering medicated lethargy. In retaliation, Moe bit back viciously, seeking retribution for his handsome fiancé, the unwarranted jealousy, the invasion of his soul, and vehemently pushed back his orgasm-stalling hands. They writhed on the bed like frenzied beasts, screaming, growling, moaning, meting out punishment for their own transgressions. Finally coming, Moe struggled to break free before the knot tightened, but with a sudden twist, Einar turned him over, spread his cheeks, thrust in forcefully, moaned, bit the back of his neck, undid the knot, and collapsed, nearly suffocating him with his weight.
Moe twitched with fleeting sensations of pleasure, determined to block out any thoughts, avoid reflection, and deny Einer satisfaction from hurting him. Once Einer withdrew, relinquishing his hold, Moe exerted effort to rise on weak arms.
“Stay,” Einar muttered, but Moe defiantly shook his head.
“Fuck you.”
“Stay, please!” Einar seized him from behind and dragged him back onto the bed, burying his face in Moes neck. “What are you doing, Moe?”
“And what about you?” Moe responded without much thought, and Einar remained silent, still holding him.
As Einar drifted off to sleep, Moe extricated himself from the embrace. Feeling a loss of warmth, Einar sleepily muttered, "Moe," and cuddled into his pillow instead. Momentarily frozen, Moe tiptoed away toward his room, stepping over Einar's bare feet. In the bathroom, he checked the sore neck and sighed with an instant relief – not a proper mark, just bites of two assholes. He had no idea, how a real mark would mess with his hormones. Filled the tub, added some scented salts, and lay there, gazing gloomily at the ceiling. The behavior of the two brothers was getting on his nerves – Manny with his infatuation and petty actions, and Einar with his damn fiancé and possessive instincts, treating Moe as if he were a pet rather than a free human being.
Just a few more days to endure. Moe nodded to himself, washing away Einar’s sweat, saliva, and cum, wrinkling his nose at the painful bite on his neck. He sighed, questioning why this situation had to be so stupid.
Early in the morning, he rose, got dressed, and headed to Manny's room to settle the score. Manny was still asleep, his face showing signs of his brother's blows and the swelling from crying. Moe grinned contentedly, acknowledging Einer's work. With ease, he flipped Manny's heavy, relaxed body onto his stomach, pulled off his briefs, lowered his own, pressed against him with his morning boner, twisted his arms, and playfully sang into Manny's ear.
“You say you like me, want me? Come on, daredevil, let's fuck then.”
“What the hell is going on, Moe!” Manny hissed, struggling like a fish on ice.
“I'm just giving you what you've always wanted,” Moe teased, sliding his cock between his tense buttocks. “Haven't you fantasized about fucking me?”
“Not like this!” Manny exploded in desperation, realizing that Moe wasn't joking. “I'm an alpha, damn it!”
“And I'm a beta, I can fuck just as well as I can take it,” Moe squeezed his hands tighter until Manny hissed. “You're not Manny, you're Meanie. If you try to set me up again, I WILL fuck you. Got it, asshole?”
“Understood,” Manny fell silent, acknowledging Moe's triumph, and Moe hopped off the bed, pulling up his underwear.
“Stay away from me for the rest of the days. Consider your babysitter on vacation. Bye-bye, Meanie.”
“I hate you!” Manny exclaimed, casting a spiteful glare at him. “I hope you die!”
“I'll die someday,” Moe said philosophically as he left the bedroom.