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Considering Brian's background, he took to fatherhood amazingly easily.

The early days of Mia’s pregnancy passed in a blur of anxiety and activity. While Dom scoped out safehouses, Brian checked in with some particularly well-informed people he’d made contact with over his years working in law enforcement. Between that and diligent monitoring of local and international news, they kept one step ahead of the law.

He made sure they were close to a suitable city by her due date, and had elaborate contingency plans for the moment labor started. When she brushed her hand against his face just after midnight on April 4th and whispered it was time, he had her and the giant duffel bag in the car within three minutes. The bag had been packed for five days.

Dom rubbed his gritty eyes and stabbed half-blind at the buttons of the hospital coffee machine. God only knew what kind of liquid it was that spattered into the little styrofoam cups; he couldn’t read the labels, anyway, but hoped that it was something close to chai. It was a running gag in their new little household that Mia kept going through the chai in the house, but she’d cut down on caffeine as her pregnancy had progressed, and Dom didn’t much care for hot sweet drinks, so that left—

“Please tell me that’s—”

Dom turned and shoved the cup into Brian’s hand. He lifted it and drank blindly, careless for how hot or disgusting it might be, and didn’t stop until the cup was empty.

“Everything okay?” Dom murmured, trying to sound calm. He really didn’t want Brian’s crazy chai guzzling to mean that something was wrong with Mia, or the baby.

Brian looked numbly at the cup in his hand, then lurched to the trash can and tossed it in. “They’re…I don’t even…something I can’t pronounce.”

Dom examined Brian’s exhausted face, trying to keep himself calm. His little sister was in fact physically little, and watching her grow with the pregnancy had been both amazing and alarming. Thinking of her in the delivery room with doctors doing some unpronouncable procedure suddenly made this seem like a life-or-death thing, not simple childbirth.

Brian leaned against the wall, staring at some kind of Indian health care PSA. He clearly wasn’t trying to absorb the knowledge, judging from his thousand-yard stare. “They say it’s really common. It’ll only take a few minutes.”

“Hey.” Dom squeezed Brian’s shoulder. “They probably just wanted to get you to stop hovering.”

Brian managed a weak smile, prompting another close examination. His eyes were as red and dry as Dom’s felt, stubble was thick on his face, and his clothes hadn’t been changed in three days, if Dom remembered this week accurately.

“I just…I need to do something.”

“Oh, yeah. Twenty-one hours of holding my sister’s hand and helping her breathe while feeding her enough ice chips that penguins are complaining. You’re really falling down on the job.”

Brian covered his face with his hands, but he laughed through his fingers. “Have you always been this sarcastic?”

“Only when my sister is having a baby.” Saying it aloud brought it home again, and they both stiffened and looked at each other. Before the moment got awkward, though, a door swung open down the hall and a nurse poked her head out. She caught Brian’s eye and nodded.

Amelia Maria O'Conner Toretto met the maternity ward of Pai Hospital in Goa, India, at seven thirteen a.m. on April 5th with ten fingers, ten toes, and Toretto lungs. She had a full cap of silky black hair, the dusky skin of her mother, and the long limbs of her father. Dom put his arm around Brian's shoulder as they stood at the nursery window and watched a nurse hold Amelia up for inspection. Brian finally let Dom take his weight.

Brian and Mia seemed to sleep as often as the baby in the first two weeks. Dom took care of keeping on top of chores in the little rented apartment, and even performed a couple of diaper changes while Mia grabbed a five-minute shower. Fastening the soft cotton diapers at her silky, tiny hips with the giant safety pins made him feel ham-handed and huge like nothing else ever had. But he never pricked her, not once, and she hardly ever fussed while he handled her.

"Knew you'd be a natural," Brian said softly from the nursery doorway one morning, while Dom was giving Amelia a little airplane ride.

"Whatever." Dom flushed but brought Amelia down against his chest, relishing the feel of her tiny, warm body fitting so perfectly in his two hands. "Just doing what any uncle does."

"You do more," Brian said, and held his eyes when Dom looked up. Brian's gaze was bloodshot and exhausted, but peaceful, and Dom found it difficult to look away until the sound of the shower stopped. Brian shifted his weight and slipped back from the doorway, going down the hall.

After two months they settled into an easy routine. Mia went in for her postnatal checkup at six weeks, and after they returned, Dom noticed Brian stroking her hand at the dinner table that night. He watched Brian's thumb flick back and forth over Mia's knuckles for what seemed like minutes, then forced his attention back to his puttanesca. The next morning he started looking for another apartment. They’d been keeping to small, private places so as not to grab attention by flashing a lot of money, but it had been long enough since Brazil that they were starting to relax. Besides, Mia and Brian had chosen Goa for the anti-extradition laws. Luckily there were a lot of half-empty condo towers built to cater to rich Western tourists. Finding a place away from Brian and Mia was easy.

But separating himself from Amelia wasn't. He wasn't oblivious to the relief Mia showed when handing her off after an early morning feeding, nor the way Amelia seemed to give him a particularly rakish grin when he'd put her down for a nap in the afternoons. But while he and Brian had gotten close in the last several months, Brian’s attention had wandered back to Mia in a way that wasn’t as platonic as when Mia was carrying thirty extra pounds with swollen ankles. Dom increasingly felt like the very large, very obvious elephant in the room.

Nearly three months after Amelia's birth, Dom grabbed a kitchen towel and stepped up to Brian at the sink, taking a bowl after it was rinsed. "I'm going to let you guys take things from here."

"What do you mean?" At the dinner table, Mia blotted a fresh spit-up blotch on her shirt. Amelia had just been put down for the night and they kept their voices down and one eye on the baby monitor sitting in the middle of the table.

"Seems like now's a good time to let you two have some space, figure things out without a third wheel." He rubbed particularly hard at a particle of stuck-on food Brian had missed. "I wasn't going to live with you forever."

"You could, man," Brian said, maybe a little quickly. He handed over the rinsed serving bowl. "We don't mind."

"I found something else that's good for me, nearby. You can call me whenever you need me.”

"It really helps having another person around," Mia said. "I have it easy with you two. So much easier than other new mothers."

Dom put the bowl back on top of the cabinet—only he and Brian could reach that high—and turned to his sister, slinging the damp towel over his shoulder. "You guys need your privacy. There are just…some things I don't need to be in the next room for."

Brian shut off the water. Mia looked past Dom, and her expression tightened.

"I didn't say anything to him," Brian told her defensively.

"He didn't have to," Dom interjected. "Mia, it's okay."

"Do I get a say in this plan?" Mia stood and gathered her still-damp hair into a sloppy bun. "How about, there's no need for extra privacy, Dom." She showed them her back, loose t-shirt with wet spots from her hair and spit-up stains on the shoulder, and then she disappeared down the hallway.

Brian sighed. "I appreciate the thought, but…trust me, she's really not ready."

"Is everything…" He couldn't even bring himself to put into words his knowledge of the trouble women could have after childbirth. The little procedure before Amelia’s birth had turned out to be an incision that made Dom shudder and clamp his thighs together in sympathy. And there were weakened muscles, sore nipples, embarrassment over saggy skin and stretch marks. Not to mention the effect of whacked-out hormones. But three months out…things were supposed to be on the upswing toward good.

"She's fine. Just…not ready." Brian smiled ruefully. "I'm not going to tell you whether I'm ready. You're her brother."

"I'm also a guy."

Brian shoved his hands in his pockets and crossed the kitchen, heading for the little den where they had a tiny TV inches from the cramped sofa. "No shit."

Dom pulled the towel off his shoulder and draped it over the oven door handle to dry, then followed the sounds of the television. He took the spot next to Brian and joined in, numbly following the subtitled American comedy circa 1999. When he lost interest in Frasier, his attention wandered to Brian.

Brian's hand rested on his leg, fingers relaxed. Dom had gotten so used to seeing grease in the creases of his knuckles and the cuticles of his fingernails and even now, nearly a year after Rio, it still surprised him to see them so clean. He wondered if Brian's hands had been clean when he'd last slept with Mia. Sure they would've. He would've scrubbed them with Gunk or Lava soap, and trimmed his nails, so when he pushed into her with two, three fingers, crooked and searching for her G spot, she only gasped from pleasure and not discomfort.

Fuck. Dom blinked and shook his head slightly, his face burning. She was his sister, for god's sake. Maybe he needed to get laid more than Brian did.

"What did you mean by 'no shit'?" he asked before he could stop himself.

"Huh?" Brian barely blinked, caught up in Dr. Crane's on-air antics.

"I said I'm a guy. You said no shit."

Brian glanced at him and focused back on the TV. "It's…pretty hard to miss."

"Okay." Dom still didn't know what to do with that. He was at the end of years of feeling like Brian had something else to say to him, something more to do, and he'd never figured out what. Even after Brian had busted Dom out of the prison transport bus, all he'd done was smack Dom on the shoulder, say "Damn, I'm good, got you out in one piece," and started driving. No explanation of why he'd thrown his life and career away—again—and so enthusiastically embraced running on the other side of the law. It certainly hadn't been because Mia wanted him to.

"I'm…going to bed." He couldn't sit here with his thoughts spinning. Brian nodded absently as Dom got to his feet, and they exchanged muttered "g'nights” before he went down the hall to his room.

But lying on his too-short, too-narrow bed, he found himself staring at the ceiling, long after the TV quieted and Mia gave Amelia her midnight feeding. He thought about clean fingers and the bump of a fist on his aching shoulder, the fact that Brian didn't have to rise up onto his toes to put the pasta bowl away, the unflinching gaze of bloodshot blue eyes.

Three days later Mia took Amelia out in the new walker, promising a long walk along the downtown waterfront. Dom swept the house and dusted the living room, then rearranged the cabinet next to Amelia's changing table so Mia wouldn't have to bend down to get clean diaper cloths. He started a load of laundry and took the previous load out of the dryer, then back to the nursery to fold the clean cloths. Brian had wanted to get a housekeeper for Mia, but both Mia and Dom were still too wary of strangers getting too close, so the majority had won that argument. After weeks of chores, Dom found the routines soothing, and probably wouldn't give them up readily. He'd watched Brian fold towels one time and had been forced to chew on his cheek to keep from correcting Brian's technique.

Passing by Brian and Mia's room on the way to the nursery, he heard something instinctively familiar and paused.

Skin on skin, with a wet sound of lubrication. Uneven, heavy breaths.

Fuck. Dom forced his legs to move, to take him away before Brian realized there was someone outside the door, listening, waiting for the moment of climax, feeling the intensity with him. He dumped the cloth diapers on the changing table and numbly started folding them, making a haphazard pile. One diaper after another, clean and soft, the pile getting higher.

"Hey, you need a hand?"

Dom flinched and knocked the pile over. The last thing he needed was to think about what kind of hand Brian thought to lend.

"Hey, sorry—didn't mean to startle you." Brian came up beside him and picked up the scattered cloths. They finished folding the diapers, and then Brian said, "Hey…you okay?"

"Yeah." Dom glanced at him. "Are you?"

"Y-yyeah…" Brian said tentatively, watching him. "You're being weird."

"Sorry." Dom backed away from the changing table. "I'm… We need some space. I'll get out of here for a little while."

"Hey—did you—" Brian gestured at the wall with a bemused smile. "Did you hear me?"

Dom felt his face burn. "I wasn't listening or anything."

Brian laughed, sounding a little embarrassed and wiping his face with one hand. "It's cool, man. Didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. You don't have to go anywhere."

"Okay." Dom retreated to his room and Brian turned on the TV, and they didn't see each other again until Mia got home.

That night, after everyone had retired to their respective rooms and the lights were out, Dom gave up on sleeping and went to the kitchen for a drink of water. He stood in the dark and looked out the little window over the sink as he sipped, examining the worn siding of their neighbor's house and the little row of herbs Mia had started on the windowsill. He heard a faint sound from back down the hallway and automatically put his glass down, going to check on Amelia.

Mia was already in the nursery, hair in a tidy braid that fell to her waist, too-slender frame engulfed by a nightgown. Dom stood in the doorway and watched her back as she went through the motions of getting ready to breastfeed, unbuttoning her gown and settling Amelia in the crook of one arm. Amelia stopped fussing, and the soft sounds of nursing started immediately. Mia had her head turned, looking down at her daughter's face, shafts of moonlight giving her silhouette a silver edge.

He didn't make a sound, but she must have sensed him, because she glanced over her shoulder and let out a breath. "Hey. What are you doing back there?"

"I was up already."

Mia settled in the rocking chair and shook out a burp cloth, covering Amelia's face and her breast. "Come on in. I want to talk to you."

Dom took one step in and to the left, planting himself against the wall. He was sure he looked ridiculous, a six-foot man, two hundred and twenty pounds of muscle, bane of law enforcement and high-level criminals alike, but he couldn't bring himself to relax in simple domesticity. Mia eyed his stance and sighed.

"Brian told me about today. How you were acting."

Dom felt his face seize in an expression that couldn't decide between shock and affront. "What? Why did—"

"Shh," Mia said quickly, gesturing at Amelia. He watched the little fat baby legs kick once before Mia put her arm back under Amelia's bottom, and forced the rest of his words back.

"A blind man can see you guys have something," she continued. "You always have. I didn't run back into Brian's arms two years ago because I wasn't sure I was what he wanted." She bent her head and when she spoke again, Dom heard her voice thick with tears. He felt sick, unable to comfort his sister, to even move. "I don't know if I've ever been sure. Not until Ami."

She took a minute to cuddle Amelia closer, adjusting the cloth and switching her to the other breast. Dom heard her take a few steadying breaths.

"I think we're in a good place now," she said, swallowing and clearing her voice. "I know he's good for us." She looked up at Dom again, pushing the rocking chair into motion. "But he wants you—no, he needs you. In a way I can't do anything about."

"You don't know what you're talking about," Dom muttered, the words falling out before he could think to stop them.

"Yes, I do. He told me. We’ve talked about it."

Dom pushed off the wall and turned to brace his arms against it, embarrassed beyond words. He couldn't voice his own desires even to himself—hearing these words come out of his sister's mouth was beyond bearing. He curled his fingers into the plaster, watching his knuckles flex and go white.

"I'm taking Amelia downtown tomorrow, to do some shopping with all that damn money we have." Behind him, he could hear Amelia detach and the rustle of Mia buttoning her nightgown. "I'll be gone until dinnertime."

Dom couldn't nod, couldn't speak. He pushed off the wall and went to his room, closing the door quietly, and leaned his head back against it.

Dom woke before dawn and made himself breakfast before Brian and Mia emerged from their room. He went back to his own and kept the door closed while the day started, Amelia fussing for her first changing of the day, Brian murmuring to her while he got her dressed to go out, Mia fixing breakfast and cleaning up.

By two p.m. he'd reread every car magazine in his room three times over, made his bed to military standards (or rather, prison standards), folded an untouched pile of his clean laundry and sorted the dirty pile to do later, and sat with a paperback novel he'd picked up in an airport and hadn't read more than a hundred pages of. He realized he was drifting numbly when he heard a tap on his door and Mia's voice, close on the other side.

"I'm going now. See you later."

"See you," he called automatically. His heart started racing and cold sweat broke out on his palms, in his pits, across his forehead as he listened for the front door. After the familiar sound of the latch, he heard Brian's footsteps coming down the hall.

His door burst open and Brian barreled in, a streak of dirty blond hair, tan skin, and blue jeans. Brian grabbed Dom's arms and hauled him out of the desk chair, pushing him toward the bed and straddling him when Dom sank onto the mattress. The bed groaned under his added weight. Brian's lean body loomed over him, his warm hands heavy on Dom’s shoulders, and then Brian closed the space between them and kissed him.

Dom pushed up into the kiss, opening his mouth and welcoming Brian's tongue with a groan. He broke Brian's hold on his shoulders and clutched Brian’s torso, Brian sliding into him as his hands skidded across the bed. They were falling off the mattress. Dom gripped Brian's ass and pushed down with his heels, sliding them further up the bed. They broke apart and Brian reared back on his knees, hands scrabbling for Dom's thin undershirt. At the first touch of hot fingers on his bare stomach, Dom felt his aching cock jerk in his jeans.

"Off, off, fuck, Dom."

Dom tore the shirt off with one hand, swearing when it caught on his ears. Brian helped him, laughing, and threw it across the room. Dom pushed his hands under the hem of Brian's shirt and up his stomach, learning the feel of the fine hair trailing up to his chest and the sweat gathering between his pecs. Brian stripped his shirt off with a wriggling, rolling motion that made Dom's cock throb. He ran his hands across Brian's chest, testing his nipples with a light touch—Brian twitched and breathed out a low moan—and then raced down to press his palm against the hot, hard crotch of Brian's shorts.

"Yeah," Brian breathed. He fumbled at his fly, pushing his hips into Dom's hand. He looked pornographic, mouth hanging open, eyes heavy. Dom pushed his fingers into his opened fly and found Brian bare and ready underneath, smooth skin sliding under Dom's rough fingers.

"Fuck," Dom breathed through another surge of lust, getting his fingers around Brian's cock and testing the feel. It felt perfect, like a gearshift matching the shape of his palm, an extension of himself. He jerked Brian lightly, watching as Brian’s face went slack. "You're so fucking—"

Brian cut him off with another kiss. They both groaned as Brian pulled away, Dom's hand twitching on empty space. Brian stood to kick off his shorts, baring long, well-muscled legs. Dom focused on his dick, rising hard and red against his stomach. Unexpectedly, the sight of Brian's dick made Dom hornier. He took a steadying breath, knowing now that he could do this.

He quickly unfastened his own jeans, his fingers suddenly clumsy. He barely got the zipper down before Brian was on him again, hot wet mouth searing down his chest to the dust of hair below his navel, licking under his waistband. Hands helped him pull open the fly, ease the band of boxers down over his erection. Brian's breath was warm and heavy on his dick.

Dom moaned and pushed a hand against Brian's shoulders, backing his hips away. He stood and stepped out of his clothes, toeing off his sandals. Brian rolled onto his back on the bed, watching Dom, one hand going to his cock and encircling it.

"There's one thing I've been thinking about doing for a long, long time," Dom muttered, kneeling on the end of the bed.

"You don't have to ask," Brian said, watching him intently. "Whatever you want."

Dom nodded and stretched out on his stomach, nudging Brian's legs apart and wrapping his arms around his thighs. He lowered his head and experimentally licked up the length of Brian's cock.

"Aw fuck, I didn't— You—" Brian writhed under Dom. "God, Dom—"

"Be patient with me." Dom unwound one arm to hold Brian's cock and guide it into his mouth. He took another experimental lick and confirmed he liked the taste and feel. "I'm just learning."

Brian gasped and Dom felt a tremble start in his hips. "You have a permit, right?"

"In my other pants." Smiling at Brian's breathless laugh, Dom licked up Brian's length and took the shaft fully into his mouth, sucking carefully. Brian moaned and tried to lift his hips but Dom held him down, controlling the slow drag of his lips up and down Brian's cock, the play of his tongue around the head. Brian got louder, sometimes managing a word, and Dom felt himself get even harder at the sounds. This was better than he had dreamed. During all the still, hot Mexican nights, between putting in hours at the garage and hours watching the road, waiting for headlights and wondering if they would mean Brian or the federales. After that, he'd go to bed and wrap his hand around his cock, work it up to dripping hardness, bring some precome to his lips and suck on his fingers, imagining them to be Brian's cock, and come so hard he'd blow his mind right into sleep, the only way he could get there.

"Dom, Dom Dom Dom—" Brian babbled and shoved at his shoulders. Dom backed off, at once proud for getting Brian so close to coming and ashamed he hadn't been able to tell. Most of the time he could sense and anticipate Brian like he was another limb. It cut him that he couldn't read these signs. Not yet.

Brian lay spread-eagled beneath him and panted, watching him with blowtorch eyes. Dom licked his lips, tasting Brian on the back of his tongue, musky and slightly bitter. He wanted to memorize the taste. No, he wanted to taste it again, every day.

"Fuck, you're going to kill me," Brian muttered, reaching up. Dom leaned down to him, anticipating a kiss, but Brian captured his nipples in strong fingertips and tweaked them to sensitized points, then rubbed his thumbs over them. Dom sucked in a hissing breath and cupped his cock, trying to close the circuit. Brian stopped. Too soon. Dom ground his teeth together and reached for Brian's hand, trying to pull him back for more, something, anything.

"I just want it to last," Brian said.

"Same here, but—" Dom gestured at the door. "We ain't got all day."

"Fuck, don't remind me." Brian hooked a hand around Dom's neck and Dom happily leaned in for a deep, slow kiss. He felt a little flare of triumph when Brian moaned raggedly into his mouth. Mia'd had him for so long, but right now Brian was all his, and Dom was going to make sure Brian thought of no one else.

The kiss went on and Dom lay down between Brian's thighs, lining up their dicks and grinding in, slow and relentless. Brian wrapped those long legs around his thighs and thrust up into him, stomach flexing. Long arms around his back, fingers clawing into the hard muscles framing his spine, a warm palm cupping the back of his head. Finally Brian pulled back with a quick chaste peck, like the period at the end of a sentence. "Now I want what I want."

"This ain't doing it for you?" Dom mock-bit Brian's neck. He wanted to sink his teeth in, get his fill of Brian’s flesh, an animalistic urge he could never satiate.

"Fuck me, Dom."

For a second he thought Brian was just cursing, but then it sunk in. Dom raised his head.

"Seriously." Brian raised his eyebrows. "I want you to fuck me.”

"You— You got—" Apparently those were the magic words to shut down Dom's brain.

"I got stuff. Let me up."

Numbly Dom backed off and watched Brian rise, eyes automatically going to the incongruous sight of exposed skin. There were lanky legs beneath his board shorts, and a tight, pale ass. Brian was gone for only a moment before he came back, half-hard cock lying fat above full balls, dark blond hair in sparse curls around the base. This time Brian straddled his hips, pinning Dom to the bed. He smirked as Dom clutched Brian’s thighs, smoothing his palms along the roughness of skin and downy hair, to the tender skin of Brian’s hips and groin. Brian snapped open a tube and squeezed gel onto his fingers, then reached behind himself, arching a little.

Dom followed his arm, his wrist, hand and fingers, finding the tight opening of Brian's body stretched hot. Brian wriggled in reaction and handed the tube to Dom, and Dom wordlessly applied more lube, feeling Brian push in another finger, then another.

"Give me a finger too." Brian's voice was a bit strained.

Dom glanced at his face. It was red and set with concentration. He touched Brian's knuckles hesitantly.

"I need more. C'mon." Brian looked pointedly at Dom's cock, lying hard and red on his stomach. "Make some room."

Dom took a breath and pushed his finger between Brian's three. He desperately wanted to push his cock in there, fill it up and feel Brian's body merge with his. He pulled out and pushed in two fingers, forcing Brian's fingers apart and the muscles to stretch. Brian moaned and twitched above Dom, his other hand clenching convulsively on Dom’s hip.

"Now, now Dom—"

Dom didn't need to be told twice. Brian fumbled among the sheets and produced a condom. Dom's hands were shaking but he got it on, and then Brian braced himself on Dom's shoulders and adjusted his position, while Dom reached down and held his dick steady. Dom had a ridiculous moment of déja vu as he thought of the many women he’d fucked like this, but the sensation disappeared as Brian sank down, head falling back with a groan. The sight of Brian lost in pleasure replaced the memory of everyone else.

Dom ground his teeth and gripped Brian by the hips to keep from pumping into him mercilessly. Strong muscles gripped him like an enthusiastic hand as Brian shakily rose up and down. Dom panted and guided him, steadying him, encouraging the pace. Brian leaned back and braced his hands on Dom's thighs, his hips rising and falling in a hypnotizing rhythm, cock bouncing. Brian had gone soft when Dom entered him, but he was getting hard again, his eyes bright.

Dom smacked his ass, enjoying the give of flesh. "Switch it up." They quickly rearranged themselves with Brian crouching on the bed, Dom standing behind him. With more control, Dom slid into Brian’s ass without much resistance, and quickly started hammering him. Brian moaned and wrapped his fingers around his own cock, his arm jerking in time with Dom's pace.

He needed to be closer. Dom bent over Brian's back until his chest touched skin. It was harder to fuck deeply this way, but he could smell Brian's sweat and taste the damp, salty skin of his shoulder, digging his teeth in. Brian turned his head and they kissed, craning for more contact. They ended up with Brian on his side and Dom stretched out behind him on the bed, holding his legs open, fucking into his loosened hole. Brian stroked himself, breathing in short gasps.

"Gonna come soon," he whispered when Dom pressed a kiss against his cheek. "Stay inside me. Fuck me through it."

Dom moaned and increased his pace. He found an angle that made Brian whimper with every stroke, and pounded that spot. His eyes burned with sweat and his breath was raw in his throat, but Brian looked undone, like he was breaking apart at the seams with his eyes squeezed shut and low moans coming from between his lax lips. Finally he bit his lip and grunted, ass clamping down on Dom's cock, and Dom looked down to watch strands of pearly come shoot out between Brian's fingers. He slowed but Brian gasped "No," and he remembered. He gave a final burst of energy to pushing into Brian's body, his ass tight and gripping.

Finally Brian released his cock and reached back to Dom's thigh, holding on with a slick wet palm. Dom smelled the scent of come thick in the air, looked down at Brian's limp body and half-hard, come-smeared cock, and felt his orgasm tear through him. He shoved himself into Brian and stopped, shuddering, as his orgasm ravaged him. Brian rubbed his thigh through it, slowing when Dom relaxed with a sigh.

"Mmm," Brian hummed as Dom slipped out of him. "Fuck, that was good."

"Yeah." Dom was still breathless. He tied off the condom and got up to dump it in the trash. "You…want a towel, or anything?"

Brian shook his head lazily, eyes half-closed. "Gonna get a shower." He aimed a blissful smile at Dom. "You want to join me?"

"Hell no, we'd break the tub." Dom pulled a fresh pair of boxers out of a drawer and stepped into them, smiling as Brian snickered. While Dom picked out some clean clothes, Brian got up and stretched with a small sound.

"You okay?"

"A little sore." Brian grinned. "I don't mind."

"Shit. Sorry."

"No really, it's normal, and…" Brian licked his lower lip and leveled a look at Dom. "I really don't mind."

"Ah. Yeah." Even while he had no chance of getting hard again for quite some time, that look might have done it. He numbly searched for a fresh shirt while Brian headed for the bathroom. As the shower turned on, Dom's head was filled with memories of Brian pushing himself back onto Dom's cock, making hungry sounds. God, he wasn't going to be able to live in the same time zone with Brian.

Shit. That thought brought Mia back to mind. How the hell were they going to square this with her? One afternoon, given with her blessing, was all well and good, but now that Dom had taken a taste, he wasn't going to go without.

He tapped on the bathroom door and opened it a crack, waiting until Brian said, "Yeah?"

He let himself in and closed the door behind him, then sat on the little chipped toilet crammed in next to the tub. "What are we going to do about Mia?"

"Huh?" Brian said over the sound of the spray. "She's fine. She told you, right?"

"She was fine with today. But what about—" Dom cut himself with a sick realization. Maybe Brian didn't want more than one fuck.

The water shut off. Brian yanked the curtain back and reached for a towel, and Dom was distracted by all that naked skin again. He watched in the foggy mirror as Brian's cock swung loose between his legs, skin and muscle shaking as he stepped out of the tub and toweled himself dry. "What about tomorrow?" Brian offered, straightening and wrapping the towel around his hips.

"If you're okay—if you wanted—"

"Oh fuck, I want." Brian stepped between Dom's knees and cupped the back of his neck, bending to bring his gaze level. "Don't make any mistake about that."

"I love my sister," Dom said carefully. "I respect your relationship with her."

"But there's you and me, together, and we all know that you and I need this."

Dom nodded, pressing his lips together.

Brian leaned in and pressed a kiss against his mouth. Helplessly needing more, Dom parted his lips and groaned when Brian did the same. They lost minutes kissing, and then Brian pulled back and straightened, pressing a hand against the front of his towel.

"Fuck, I need more recovery time. I think I strained my balls. I'm going to need to do exercises."

Dom laughed while Brian backed off and let him stand.

"So here's what I think we should do," Brian continued, leaning his hips against the counter beneath the mirror. "When Mia gets back, we ask her how willing she would be to accommodate, uh, our regular need for guy time."

"Guy time?" Dom rolled his eyes, but it was as good a phrase as any. Brian smacked the back of his hand against Dom's chest.

"You know she's smart. She won't think this was a one-off to ease the pressure. I think she'll say yes."

Dom nodded, although his heart flipped in his chest. He didn't know what he'd do if she said no, and that filled him with a shaky panic.

They had the TV tuned to…something, Dom wasn't paying attention. He instantly heard when Mia stepped onto the front mat and turned the doorknob. "Anybody home?"

"In here," Brian called. Dom was keenly aware of Brian not looking him, and Dom did him the favor of not looking back. The energy between them felt so strong, stronger than ever, that one glance might destroy Dom's control, and he didn't want Mia walking in on them rutting on the floor.

Mia appeared at the doorway and saw Brian and Dom sharing the couch, a few feet of space between them. They both smiled and said hello.

"Oh god," she laughed. Amelia giggled and reached a chubby hand toward her open mouth. "Oh my god, I'm not sure if that was the best idea ever, or the worst."

"What?" Brian said, eyebrows drawing together. "C'mon, Mia."

"Nothing, I'm just…" Mia swung Amelia up and bounced with her, grinning into her happy face. "Mommy is so smart. Mommy is going to take you to the park so much more often."

"Geez," Brian muttered while Mia continued cooing and Amelia hooked her fingers in Mia's hair. Dom snorted.

"Parks are good for babies," he said somberly, and ducked when Brian chucked a throw pillow at him.