Chapter 1: Puppies help, right?
Set in the middle of Chapter 7, Garrett's point of view when he brings Carver over to the Pavus-Rutherford household to pick a puppy.
The doorbell rang. “I’ll get it,” Dorian said. “Leave you boys to bond over your dogs.”
One of the pups was more interested in Carver than the others, returning to nibble his knuckles in between romping with her littermates. Garrett smiled, caught Cullen’s eye and nodded at the puppy.
“Well well looked who stopped by,” Dorian said, apparently not even trying to be subtle.
Felix stepped into the room. “Dori, you texted me.”
Garrett winced internally. If Carver thought that Dorian was trying to play matchmaker, he’d get mulish about the whole thing.
“Imagine that, what a coincidence,” Dorian said, as if Felix hadn’t spoken.
Seeing Carver’s jaw twitch, Garrett quickly asked, “Do you like dogs, Felix?”
Felix looked at him with wide eyes. After a moment, he said, “I like Missy,” gesturing to Cullen’s dog. “Not many dogs in where I come from,” he explained with an apologetic shrug. Garrett smiled encouragingly at him.
Felix looked down at Carver and the puppy in his lap. “That one seems to like you, though,” he said with a small smile.
“I think she’s a keeper,” Carver said. “Though they say that the Mabari picks the owner, not the other way around.”
Felix smiled and crouched down. “This one must have good taste, then.”
Ooh, very smooth. If Carver had the wit to see that Felix was actually flirting with him, it might even work.
Say something, Carver. Say something.
Cullen raised his eyebrows at Garrett and gestured upstairs. He could already hear Dorian’s footsteps. But he couldn’t leave on this awkward silence. Maker, idiot, say something! he thought hard at his brother.
“Would you like to hold her?” Carver clumsily shoved the puppy at Felix, who didn’t quite recoil but who also looked a bit alarmed at being given a puppy.
Well, it was better than nothing at all. Garrett followed Cullen upstairs. When they closed the bedroom door behind them, Dorian was almost bouncing on his feet. “Well?” he asked, sounding very pleased with himself.
“About as subtle as a brick through a window, dearest,” Cullen deadpanned, kissing his cheek.
“Yes, well, we can’t all be as suave and sensitive to nuance and clever innuendo as I am.”
Cullen snorted. “‘Sensitive to clever innuendo’, my arse. Who was it who, on our second date, didn’t realize I was offering to--”
“Cullen, no!” Dorian rushed to cover Cullen’s smirking mouth with his hand, but stumbled into the corner of the bed, fell onto it and accidentally shoved Cullen to the floor.
Garrett burst out laughing, both at the comical thump and Cullen’s expression. He softened the blow by walking over and giving Cullen a hand up. Once he was upright, Garrett looked back at the door.
“What are you thinking?” Cullen asked.
Garrett sighed. “I’m wondering how likely it is that my idiot brother will just sit there in awkward silence instead of pursuing things with Felix.”
“Felix might just pick up a book to keep him quiet company,” Dorian mused, “all the while wishing he had the courage to say something. We need to get them out of the house together.”
“And how do you propose we do that?”
Dorian answered with a devious smile. Kneeling on the bed, he braced himself forwards on his hands and then shoved his weight backwards as if he was--well. The headboard thumped into the wall.
“Maker, Dorian!” exclaimed Cullen.
Garrett thought it was brilliant. He grabbed hold of the footboard and pushed it against the wall hard enough to knock Dorian off balance on their very springy mattress. “That’s the spirit!” Dorian approved. After a third and fourth ‘thrust’, Dorian moaned loudly.
“His little brother,” Cullen pointed at Garrett, “ is right downstairs!” As scandalized as he sounded, Cullen was smiling broadly.
Dorian moaned again and said more quietly, “Yes, that’s why I didn’t suggest actual fucking. Now, are either of you going to make any noise, or will it sound like I’m doing everything myself?” He raised his voice again to say, ”Oh, Garrett, yes!”
“Oooohhhhh!” Garrett obliged. He and Dorian made the appropriate sounds together while Cullen recovered from his giggles.
“I don’t see what’s so funny,” Dorian said. “This is hard work!”
“It’s just,” Cullen said through a grin, leaning over beside Garrett to shove at the bed, “I never realized how odd sex noises sound when there isn’t any actual sex happening!”
After a few minutes Garrett looked out the window. “They’re outside with the dogs. Should we stop?”
“Ooohhhh don’t stop, don’t stop!” Dorian shouted. He pointed to the foot of the bed. “Faster, fuck me faster!”
“I don’t remember us making this much noise last night,” Cullen complained good-naturedly, following the jibe with an ecstatic wail that sent Dorian and Garrett into fits of laughter. The next moan Dorian made was more of a warble, which Cullen followed with an enthusiastic howl, and that was the end of the charade for Garrett. He lay back on the floor beside the bed, gasping with laughter, holding his aching sides.
“Oh stop,” he begged. “It hurts!”
Cullen crawled over and lay down beside him. “Just think of it as breathplay, gorgeous.”
Dorian popped his head over the side of the bed. “That’s one hell of a way to bring up kink, darling.”
Garrett waved a hand. “I saw the contents of your upper drawer when you got more lube last night. I’m not shocked.”
“That’s a relief,” Cullen said, brushing Garrett’s slightly sweaty hair back from his brow. “Dorian, are they still outside?”
“It looks like our clueless friends are parting ways, and I think I hear your dogs,” he emphasized, “inside, which means they need supervision.”
“Well, then!” exclaimed Cullen, rising and pulling Garrett to his feet. “”Then we’ll go downstairs, supervise the dogs, and talk about how the contents of the upper drawer did make Garrett feel.”
Chapter 2: Little Brothers do NOT help
Inspired by this phone conversation between Garrett and Carver in Chapter 12, though it takes place some time later.
Carver heard his brother pull the phone away, then start to laugh. A second later he was back on the line. “He’s not bored, he’s nervous,” Garrett explained. “He’s texting Dorian right now. God, you’re both so pathetic it’s almost cute.”
“Nervous? What the hell for?” Carver couldn’t wrap his brain around that. Felix had always seemed comfortable around him when they weren’t on dates. It was one of the things Carver found so attractive.
“He’s nervous because he’s on a date with a, quote, younger, hotter, braver man than he- hang on, is he on a date with someone else at the same time?”
“Shut up,” Carver grumbled. “And don’t you dare tell Dorian I called you, or I’ll tell him about the time you wadded up a bunch of toilet paper, stuck it between your butt cheeks, and pretended to be the Easter Bunny.”
“I was four,” Garrett sniffed. “How did you find out about that, anyway?”
“Uncle Gamlen told me.”
“That bastard,” Garrett grumbled.
Garrett knew he was in serious trouble when Dorian turned to him and was obviously--painfully obviously, and very badly--stifling a smirk. When facial muscles didn’t cut it, he bit the insides of his lips, but giggles still escaped him.
“What?” Garrett asked. “It’s just the loo. I washed my hands.”
“That’s not what he’s biting his lips about,” Cullen said.
Dorian’s lips wobbled again and twice he parted them as thought to speak, but nothing came out. He bit his lip again, his cheeks twitching and contorting in strange, smirk-repressing patterns. Usually Garrett found the sight of Dorian biting his lip arousing, but he had a feeling--an older brother’s intuition, you could say--that the other shoe was about to drop.
“Just checking that you were thorough with, erm, cleanup,’ Cullen suggested awkwardly. He, too, was now fighting a smirk. Dorian snorted loudly and dramatically smacked a hand against his lips, eyes wide in horror.
Cullen poked Dorian’s side. “That’s what you get,” he admonished.
Dorian waved Cullen’s hand away. “Yes, well, let us never speak of it again. Garrett, darling, why don’t you hop on over here?” Dorian patted the couch cushion beside him.
Garrett walked over, suspicion slowing his footsteps. “You only call me ‘darling’ when you want something.”
“Honey-bunny, then?” Dorian snickered.
“Honey-bunny?” Garrett repeated incredulously. “And ‘thorough with cleanup’?” He looked from Dorian to Cullen and back again. “I’d be offended if I wasn’t so confused.”
“Oh, don’t get your floppy ears in a twist,” Dorian pouted. “You know you’re some-bunny special to us.”
“Maybe we can borrow one of his feet and get lucky tonight,” Cullen suggested.
“Oh, Maker. You went there.”
“Egg-sploring the egg-citing and egg-streme egg-samples of egg-based humor?”
“‘Humor’, ha! What a hare-brained notion.”
“Don’t egg-saggerate, my little Peep. Puns are an egg-cellent egg-spression of egg-straordinary--”
“Maker’s arse, stop!” Garrett groaned, burying his face in his hands.
“Too much pun-ishment?”
“And here I thought he was egg-noring us.”
“Don’t you mean ‘and hare’ you thought he was egg-noring us?”
“Damn, you’re right. Obviously I’m lay-ing down on the job.”
“Stop!” Garrett put his palm over Dorian’s mouth. “Rabbit and egg jokes...like, chocolate rabbits at Easter? Messy chocolate? If you’re making a poo joke, it’s--” Comprehension dawned. “Oh, no.”
Dorian fell off the couch trying to stifle his giggles, and Cullen laughed openly.
“I’m going to kill Carver,” Garrett promised.
“I assumed,” drawled Cullen through his wide smile, “that the texts I got from Carver this morning detailing your childhood antics was intended as retaliation for something. What did you do to him?”
“I short-sheeted his bed before Felix came over.”
“That--” Dorian giggled again and resumed his seat on the couch. “That would do it.”
“Short sheeting is child’s play!” Garrett protested. “He’s never gotten his boxers in a bunch about it before!”
Cullen hummed. “Perhaps it’s because Felix was inconvenienced as well?”
“‘Oh’, indeed. You’re lucky Carver didn’t post a bulletin at the Stardrop.”
Garrett pinched the bridge of his nose. “What do I have to do to make this go away?”
Dorian grinned fiendishly. “You could let us hop down your rabbit trail.”
“That doesn’t even make sense,” Garrett said.
“Shake your cotton-tail at us.”
“Is that your best effort?” Cullen asked dryly.
“If you have better ideas, Cullen, I’m all ears. Or, rather, Garrett is.”
“I’m just surprised you haven’t gone for the obvious ‘let’s fuck like bunnies’.”
“Oooh!” Dorian cooed. “There’s an idea! And we already know his ears aren’t the only long part he’s got!”
“Can we go in now?” Dorian asked for the fifth time in three minutes.
“Not just yet,” Cullen said. “I wonder what he has planned?”
“We could go up and find out,” Dorian impatiently suggested, trying and failing to shove Cullen up the stairs.
“We can… now,” Cullen announced. “Race you!”
“You--!” Cullen had a three-step head start but Dorian played dirty, grabbing Cullen’s belt and yanking so they were even with each other. They burst through the bedroom door as one and stopped dead.
Garrett was wearing white high heeled-boots that zipped up his calves--or would have zipped up his calves, were they large enough to envelop his muscular legs. No matter. Above the white boots and his naturally furry thighs, he wore a white...leotard? Sleeveless and legless onesie? Whatever it was, it was at least one size too small, had cut-outs at either side that showed Garrett’s toned sides and was low-cut enough that a shadow fell in the cleavage of his pecs. The outfit had clearly been made for a woman, and what Garrett had--somehow--managed to stuff into the stretched groin section was absolutely obscene in the best way possible. Forcing their eyes above the growing bulge under the fabric, Dorian and Cullen took in the smirk on Garrett’s bearded face and the two white bunny ears atop his head. As they appreciated the vision before them in silence, the right ear flopped halfway down, giving Garrett an appropriately...well, Garrett-ish look.
“Hello, gentlemen,” Garrett purred, walking slowly from the bed toward them, leading with his mostly-exposed hips in a distracting sashay. A few steps away from them he stopped, turned around and stood with his weight on one leg, hip tilted up, looked smolderingly at them over his shoulder and… twitched the fluffy white tail sewn to the stretched fabric that barely covered his ass.
A third twitch became a series of small backwards hops. Garrett stopped when his fluffy tail was a few inches away from Cullen’s groin, twitched at him a couple of times, and shifted his weight and gaze towards Dorian.
“Now, I know the costume isn’t precisely perfect,” he said, “But I’m still pretty sure I can give you both a hoppy ending.”
JUST KIDDING, HERE’S A POST-CREDITS SCENE
“I’m so confused. I don’t know if this is hot or hilarious.”
“Your cock isn’t confused.”
“Either your cock knows exactly what it wants, or you’re smuggling a few Easter eggs in your trousers.”
OKAY HERE’S ANOTHER ONE BUT THAT’S ALL
“Fuck, you look incredi--”
Suddenly the onesie-leotard-thingy was no longer containing Garrett’s easter basket at all, and was ruched up around his torso, the elastic fabric snapping back to the place of least resistance.
“How did you get into that in the first place?” asked Cullen at the same time as Dorian asked, “Did you break it?”
Garrett’s rising blush made his embarrassment clear, but he lost none of his swagger. “It fastens at the crotch for easy access, I’ll have you know.”
“Yes, what an egg-cellent design--mmph!”
FINE YOU TALKED ME INTO IT
Later--much later--Dorian recovered the fluffy tail from where it lay, forlorn and separated from its garment, on the floor. He turned it in his hands thoughtfully. A smile slowly lit up his face, and he looked meaningfully at the drawer that held, among other sex toys, their butt plugs.
From the pile of sweaty and sated limbs on the bed, Garrett clearly said, “No.”
Dorian huffed petulantly, but quietly put the tail in the drawer anyways, catching Cullen’s eye and returning his wink. Surely there was someone in town with a hot glue gun.