Man Up!

"The Bargain"

The world had slowed to a crawl.

Shrank down to a single point, just him and Nate, standing there on the sand as if time had bent to make this impossible moment happen.

Nate.

He stood a mere few feet away, his shirt hanging open and loose, revealing skin kissed by the sun, muscles taut and golden like he'd spent years molded by the sea and sky. And those stormy gray eyes that seemed to pin Caleb in place fixed on him as they could see straight through his anger, confusion, and hurt, peeling back every layer until there was nothing left to hide.

"Hey, kiddo."

The words hit Caleb like a tidal wave. Two simple syllables spoken so casually they shouldn't have meant anything, yet they meant everything. That voice. Warm and low, with just enough roughness around the edges to make Caleb's groin contract, spewing a surge of adrenaline through his body.

But now? Now, it felt like a knife twisting in an old wound.

Something inside Caleb snapped. That fragile thread holding him together unraveled instantly, a thread he'd kept tightly wound since they'd learned the truth. His chest constricted painfully as if his ribs were collapsing inward.

Before he could think, before he could stop himself, he moved.

The punch landed harder than even Caleb expected. His fist connected with Nate's jaw in a sharp crack that echoed louder than the waves crashing behind them. The impact sent Nate stumbling backward into the sand with a grunt of surprise and pain.

For a moment, everything froze.

Behind him, Ryan's shocked voice broke through the silence like a firecracker going off in a quiet room. "Jesus Christ, nerd!" Ryan hissed, his tone equal parts disbelief and exasperation. "I thought you would cry or yell at him, not deck him!" Ryan's jaw was practically unhinged as he gawked between Caleb and Nate like he couldn't decide which was more insane in this scenario.

But neither Caleb nor Nate said anything.

Nate lay flat against the sand, blinking at the sky. Slowly, a low chuckle rumbled from deep within his chest, a sound so unexpected it made Ryan's eyebrows shoot up even higher.

"Yeah," Nate muttered as he rubbed at his jaw with one hand while propping himself up with the other. His tone had no malice, just acceptance laced with something almost resembling amusement. "Probably deserved that."

Caleb didn't respond, not with words, anyway. And so, instead of saying anything or doing anything else, he turned on his heel and walked away. Ryan groaned loudly before throwing up his hands in defeat and jogging after Caleb. Nate stayed where he was for a while longer, staring after them with a faint smile lingering on his lips, a smile that wasn't about amusement anymore but something more profound.

Relief.

Minutes later, Caleb sat perched on a small stone wall near the house's edge, his elbows digging into his knees as his hands hung limply between them. His head was bowed slightly, his hair falling into his eyes as he stared at the waves rolling in and out with a mechanical rhythm.

The ocean was alive and restless, but Caleb? Caleb was still, so still, it was almost unnerving. His face gave nothing away. It was blank, a mask carved from stone. But Ryan, standing a few feet behind him, didn't need to see Caleb's face to know what was brewing underneath. It was in the way Caleb's shoulders slumped just slightly under some invisible weight, and his breathing wavered just enough to betray him.

Ryan hated seeing him like this, sinking deeper into himself, drowning in thoughts he wouldn't share aloud. He hated how helpless it made him feel to watch someone tread water in a rising tide and not be able to throw them a rope.

So Ryan did the only thing he knew how to do. He stayed. He didn't speak, didn't try to fill the silence with empty words or hollow reassurances. He just stood there. Silent, steady. Then came another sound. Ryan turned his head slightly and spotted him.

Nate.

He approached with slow steps that carried none of their usual confidence. There was no swagger in his gait now, no trace of the man who used to command every room he entered without even trying. His face was unreadable as he stopped several feet away from Caleb and Ryan, his hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets. For a moment, Nate stood silent as if trying to gather words that wouldn't come.

Finally, he exhaled heavily and rubbed the back of his neck, a gesture more human than any Ryan had seen from him in what felt like years.

"It's probably time we talk," Nate said, his voice low and rough from disuse, then turned on his heel and walked toward the house without waiting for an answer.

Ryan glanced at Caleb out of the corner of his eye. Caleb hadn't moved, flinched, or even acknowledged Nate's presence. He was still staring at the waves. Ryan let out a sharp sigh before following Nate.

Inside, the house was exactly what Ryan had expected, and that wasn't a compliment. There were no photos on the walls, no signs of life or warmth anywhere in sight, just stark white paint peeling slightly at the corners and furniture that looked like it had been picked out more for function than comfort. A small wooden dining table sat off to one side with two mismatched chairs pushed haphazardly around it. Across from it stood an old armchair, faded and lumpy, with a single-throw pillow. And near the door? A single duffel bag sat slumped against the floor like it had been packed hastily and never unpacked.

This wasn't a home.
It was a hiding place.

Ryan scoffed audibly as he took it all in. "Jesus," he muttered under his breath. "This is depressing."

Nate stood near the small window overlooking the ocean, his arms crossed over his chest as he gazed at the horizon. His expression was unreadable and stoic, but Ryan had seen enough of Nate's poker face over the years to know better than to take it at face value.

Ryan didn't bother holding back.

"Do you even know what the fuck we've been through?" he demanded sharply as he stepped further into the room. "Do you know how much shit we had to process after you left?"

If Nate felt anything at those words, guilt, pain, or regret, he didn't show it. He didn't blink or flinch or even shift where he stood.

That only made Ryan angrier. "You're a fucking coward." That got something, a flicker of emotion passing briefly across Nate's face before disappearing again. But Ryan wasn't done. His voice cracked slightly under the weight of everything he'd held back for too long, but he pushed through anyway. "You just walked away and left us behind to pick up all your fucking mess!"

His breathing was ragged now, his chest rising and falling unevenly. Nate's jaw tightened slightly at those words, but still, he said nothing. Ryan took another step closer until they were nearly toe-to-toe. His voice dropped lower now, quieter but no less fierce as he spoke again.

"Do you have any fucking idea what it was like...watching him break?" Ryan said through gritted teeth.

For a fleeting moment, it looked like Nate might finally say something back. He could finally defend himself, explain, apologize, or something. But instead, he smiled. It wasn't smug, dismissive, or mocking; it wasn't even big enough to be called a smile by most standards, but it was there nonetheless, subtle yet unmistakable.

It was pride.

Ryan froze mid-breath, confusion twisting through his anger like smoke curling around the fire. "What the hell are you smiling about?" he snapped bitterly when words finally found him again.

Nate turned his head just slightly until their eyes met fully for the first time since they'd entered the house. "You love him," Nate said simply, not an accusation but an observation spoken with quiet certainty that left no room for argument.

Ryan's throat tightened involuntarily at those words, heat rushing unbidden into his cheeks despite himself as he forced out a derisive scoff. "That's..." he muttered gruffly. "That's not the point."

But Nate didn't look entirely convinced, and before either one could say anything else, Caleb stepped inside. Tall. Unshaken despite everything swirling around him, and yet somehow resilient. Caleb owned the room now, without needing permission from anyone present, including Nate himself, who finally turned fully toward him with an expression equal parts wary curiosity and reluctant respect brewing beneath carefully controlled features meant not betray too much.

Caleb stood near the door, his shoulders almost blocking the exit. His emerald eyes, sharp and unyielding, were fixed on Nate with a laser-like intensity that made even someone as composed as Nate shift ever so slightly. Those eyes didn't just look. They dissected, probed, and demanded answers without words. Caleb's posture was deceptively casual, hands resting loosely at his sides, but something was coiled in him, something ready to strike.

Ryan lingered awkwardly between them. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets, his fingers fidgeting with loose threads as he glanced nervously between the two. He cleared his throat, the sound sharp and jarring in the oppressive quiet.

"You want me to leave?" he asked hesitantly, his voice faltering as he spoke. The question slipped out before he could stop it, and for a moment, he seemed to regret breaking the silence.

Caleb's frown deepened. He turned his head just enough to acknowledge Ryan's presence but kept his gaze firmly tethered to Nate. "Of course not," he said flatly, his tone oddly reassuring.

Ryan's lips twitched at the corners despite himself. He quickly masked the flicker of a smile by looking down at his shoes, but Caleb noticed. Caleb always noticed.

As if sensing the need to distract himself from whatever fire burned inside him, Caleb's eyes wandered around the room. "This is where you've been," Caleb said suddenly, his voice cutting through the stillness. It was too calm, controlled, forced neutrality that only made his anger more palpable. "While we were driving across the country, trying to put the pieces together, you were here."

Nate didn't flinch at the accusation. He didn't bristle or deny it or offer any explanation. Instead, he held Caleb's gaze with an unsettling steadiness. Ryan shifted uncomfortably where he stood, glancing at Nate as if hoping for a reaction. But there was none. Nate remained silent, watching Caleb with an intensity rivaling his own as though he were seeing himself.

And maybe he was.

Ryan saw it, too. This wasn't the same Caleb they'd known. This wasn't a sheltered young man anymore. The Caleb who had been quiet and cautious, uncertain of every step he took as if afraid of setting off another explosion in an already shattered world.

This Caleb stood tall. There was steel in his spine now, a sharpness in his voice that hadn't been there before. He had survived something that stripped away whatever softness he once carried, and now he stood on solid ground.

It was Nate who seemed out of place now.

"You dragged a lot of people into this mess," Caleb continued evenly, though his voice carried an edge now, a razor's edge that threatened to cut deep if provoked. The shift in Nate's posture sent ripples through the room. But Caleb didn't back down. His emerald gaze stayed locked on Nate's face, unwavering and unrelenting. "You planned all of this," he said softly, daring Nate to deny it. "Didn't you?"

Nate said nothing, but then again, he didn't need to.

"You wanted us to follow you," Caleb pressed on, stepping forward now with slow movements that made Ryan's breath catch. There was power in those steps, not just confidence or defiance but something more profound. "You knew we'd turn to each other…that we'd need each other."

Just then, unexpectedly, Nate smiled. It wasn't smug, condescending, or mocking. It was small and knowing and utterly infuriating in its simplicity. And that's when Nate's voice finally broke.

"There's nothing better to bring two people together," Nate murmured finally, his voice smooth as silk, "than something to fight for."

Caleb scoffed quietly under his breath, a short burst mixed with frustration, and shook his head slowly. "Or something to fight over," he countered dryly.

Nate tilted his head slightly at that, a gesture almost playful, and let one corner of his mouth quirk upward in response. "Love and hate are brothers, kiddo," he said.

Caleb raised an eyebrow at that. Amusement flickered briefly behind the anger still simmering in his eyes. "More like stepbrothers," he retorted coolly.

Nate's smile widened just enough to reach his eyes now, a rare thing for him, but something shifted before either man could speak again. And for the first time since Caleb had walked into the room, Nate faltered. It was subtle at first: a slight shift in weight from one foot to another, fingers twitching ever so slightly at his side. Ryan blinked in surprise but stayed silent. Even he could feel the change in dynamics between these two men who had once been so inseparable yet so destructive together.

Caleb took another step forward then, closer still, and there was no mistaking it: there was power radiating off him now. "Why now?" Caleb asked quietly, a whisper more than anything else, but there was no mistaking how much weight those two small words carried within them.

Nate hesitated, and his face changed, not dramatically but subtly enough. Lips tightening ever so slightly, jaw clenching just enough, eyes narrowing almost imperceptibly. The amusement, the teasing, the silent attitude, those familiar markers of Nate's presence, were gone. Instead, something darker coiled behind his usually steady gaze. It wasn't just sadness. It was older, sharper, an ache that had been carried far too long.

Finally, Nate spoke as though each word might crack open some forbidden truth. "The week you went on that school trip…" He paused, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. His hand flexed at his side like he wanted to punch through the tension in the air. "…Giorgio called me in. He said…" Nate hesitated again, his gaze dropping briefly before locking back onto Caleb's. "…he said he wanted to meet you."

Caleb blinked rapidly, and his skin prickled like ice water had been poured over him. He swallowed thickly, the motion visible in his taut neck. Ryan, standing just behind Caleb, shifted sharply. His fists were clenched at his sides as he bit back whatever curse or outburst had clawed at his lips.

Nate exhaled sharply through his nose, frustration and regret twisting his features. "I tried to buy time," he laughed bitterly under his breath, a hollow sound barely resembling humor. "But I knew."

He looked at Caleb then, and there was no teasing smile this time, no mask to hide behind. His eyes were dark with guilt and something deeper, close to fear. "I knew...the day I told him about you," Nate continued hoarsely, "that sooner or later...he would claim you. Just like he did me."

Caleb's breath hitched audibly at those words, and Ryan stiffened visibly beside him.

Nate's fingers curled slightly at his sides as though he were trying to hold onto something solid in a world that suddenly felt like it was crumbling beneath him. "Men like Giorgio…" He spat the name like it left a bad taste in his mouth. "… don't take 'no' for an answer."

Caleb's lips parted slightly, but no sound came out. He stared wide-eyed and frozen at Nate as the weight of his confession pressed down on him like a physical force.

And then it hit him.
The truth.

The agonizing truth settled into place like jagged pieces of a puzzle finally coming together: Nate hadn't just walked away from their lives without reason. He hadn't simply left. He had scorched every bridge behind him and burned everything to ashes, not because he didn't care but because he cared too much. Because keeping Caleb out of Giorgio's reach had been worth any price.

Even death.

Caleb stepped forward, and for the first time in as long as he could remember, Nate shrunk, not physically, but in presence. The towering figure who had always been an immovable force in Caleb's life seemed smaller. His broad shoulders sagged slightly, and his arms hung awkwardly, unsure what to do with themselves. The towering presence, the unshakable foundation that had always been Nate, wavered. His usual air of command faltered, replaced by something unfamiliar. Vulnerability? Hesitation? Caleb couldn't name it exactly, but he recognized it instantly. It was the look of a man who had carried too much for too long.

And Caleb, lean and tall, his frame wiry but strong, seemed to grow in response. His green eyes burned brighter than ever, catching the light and reflecting it with an impossible intensity. His presence expanded slowly, then all at once, until it felt like he had taken up every inch of space in the room.

Nate saw it.
Felt it.
His son was no longer a boy.
Caleb was a man.

When he spoke, his voice was even and unshaken. "He's never going to stop, is he?" The question wasn't laced with fear or doubt. It was steady, almost resigned, a statement wrapped in the guise of inquiry.

Caleb wasn't asking because he didn't know the answer. He was asking because he needed Nate to admit it aloud.

His father's lips parted slightly, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths as he searched for words that wouldn't come. For once, the man who always seemed to have an answer for everything stood speechless. So, he shook his head.

Ryan exhaled beside them, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, his fingers digging slightly into his biceps. His blue eyes stayed locked on Nate, and for the first time, Ryan saw him differently. Not weaker, but human. Fallible.

Caleb nodded once, a slight movement that carried an enormous weight as if absorbing Nate's silence had confirmed the truth. There was no escaping Giorgio Taletti. Not forever, anyway. And then something shifted again, this time within Caleb himself. His stance straightened further, and he stepped closer to Nate, closing the distance between them until they were nearly eye-to-eye. His voice softened now, not weak but purposeful, as though each word was carefully chosen. "Why didn't you trust us with this sooner?"

The question hit Nate like a physical blow, and for a fleeting moment, his face betrayed him, a flicker of raw pain darting across his features before he could mask it again. Nate's eyes shifted away, away from Caleb's piercing gaze, away from Ryan's quiet scrutiny, away from the very thing he had fought so hard to protect all these years: his family.

But Caleb wasn't having it.

"Dad," he called. Not harsh or loud but commanding in its simplicity. And like a spell spoken aloud, it worked. Nate looked up again, meeting Caleb's eyes reluctantly but fully this time. The eyes that had always seemed so unyielding were now fragile. It wasn't fear. Nate didn't know how to be afraid. It wasn't regret either, not entirely.

"What were you afraid of?" Caleb pressed gently, his voice barely above a whisper now but no less potent for it.

His emerald gaze searched Nate's face, his father's face. His brother's face. Older than him in years but suddenly level with him in spirit, he pulled Nate in with those eyes, forcing him to confront deeply buried emotions.

"Was it that I'd stop loving you?" Caleb asked quietly.

And there it was, the question that ripped through every defense Nate had left standing.

His entire body tensed, and his jaw clenched tightly enough to make the muscles along his neck stand out starkly beneath his skin. But his eyes betrayed him ultimately, breaking open like floodgates under pressure until everything poured out without control or permission. And Caleb did what came naturally, what he knew Nate needed, even if Nate couldn't admit it himself. He lifted both hands slowly and cupped Nate's face with care as though holding something infinitely precious and fragile all at once.

"How?" Caleb asked. "How could I ever love you less?" he persisted. "You saved my life," Caleb whispered firmly yet tenderly, a simple truth wrapped in layers of gratitude and love so profound they didn't need further explanation.

The dam broke then. Tears fell silently at first, one sliding down Nate's weathered cheek before another followed close behind as though they'd been waiting for years to spill over unbidden.

Ryan watched, his posture rigid, but his expression softened as he caught Caleb's glance over Nate's shoulder. He nodded once, a gesture overflowing with unspoken but deeply felt solidarity. Caleb turned back to Nate, who had been everything to him once and still was.

"You saved us both," he whispered. "It's only fair you let us save your life now," he said softly but firmly.

Nate staggered under the impact of Caleb's words. His chest rose sharply as he drew in a breath that rattled like dried leaves caught in a storm. It wasn't just air he inhaled. It was surrender, bitter and raw. He exhaled shakily, the sound hollow and fractured, as though he'd been holding his breath for years and had only now realized how suffocating it had been.

And then he fell forward.

Not with a whisper but with a thunderous crash. His knees crumpled beneath him, and in a heartbeat, his entire body fell into Caleb's waiting embrace. Caleb caught him effortlessly, and they clung to one another as if the outside world had vanished, or perhaps because it loomed beyond them, harsh and unforgiving.

And in that fierce, unyielding hug, Nate and Caleb finally regained the bond that no passage of time or sorrow could ever shatter.

Their love for one another.

*

Half an hour had passed.

Caleb occupied a small, weathered armchair near the corner of the room. His foot tapped against the floor in an erratic rhythm, impatience radiating off him in palpable waves. His jaw was set, his green eyes narrowing every so often as if he were running through a dozen scenarios, none of which ended well.

Ryan lay back on the bed across the room, his frame sprawled out yet tense beneath the surface. One knee was bent, and his jeans creased at odd angles as he absently ran his fingers through his jet-black hair. His sharp blue eyes stared at the ceiling for a long moment before darting toward the other two.

And Nate, always the quiet observer, stood by the window with one hand resting on the frame. His broad shoulders were slightly hunched as he leaned forward, watching the waves roll against the shore in their relentless dance.

It was Ryan who finally broke it. "If Taletti is following us, we need to move." The words hovered in the air for a moment before fully landing. His eyes flicked toward Caleb and then Nate, searching for their reactions.

Caleb exhaled sharply through his nose, leaning forward in his chair as if he could physically push back against Ryan's statement. He rubbed a hand over his face, dragging it down slowly before letting it fall into his lap. "How long?" Caleb asked finally, his voice rough around the edges.

Nate turned slightly from the window at the question. For a moment, he didn't answer. He let out a breath first, a long, slow exhale that spoke volumes about what he wasn't saying. "A day," he said quietly, his gaze dropping to the floor before lifting again to meet Caleb's piercing stare. "Maybe two."

Ryan sat straighter on the bed, swinging one leg over so both feet were planted firmly on the ground. "You think they got to Jenna?" Ryan questioned.

Nate didn't answer right away. Instead, he ran a hand over his face, mirroring Caleb's earlier gesture, and sighed deeply. His body shifted slightly where he stood. It was subtle but enough to betray his unease.

"Victor's a smart man," Nate said finally, though his tone had no conviction. "He'll have moved her by now."

The words were meant to reassure, to offer something solid, but they fell flat. Ryan heard it immediately. The doubt laced through Nate's words. He recoiled slightly and leaned back against the wall behind him. His jaw clenched so tightly that a muscle ticked just below his ear.

Caleb watched this exchange unfold silently from where he sat, or rather, where he had been sitting until now. Because then, he snapped. With an explosive burst of energy that startled even himself, Caleb slammed both hands down on the armchair's worn arms and shot up to his feet. The sudden movement sent a small cloud of dust rising from beneath him. "Then let's get the fuck out of here," Caleb barked, his voice slicing through their collective paralysis.

Nate turned fully from the window, his usual calm demeanor slipping just enough for surprise to flicker across his face. Ryan straightened on the bed, caught off guard by Caleb's uncharacteristic outburst. And then, they smirked. It started with Ryan, a slow curl of amusement tugging at one corner of his lips, and spread quickly to Nate. A small but knowing smile passed between them.

A silent acknowledgment that Caleb was finally speaking their language.

*

Nate moved with purpose, his broad shoulders slightly hunched. He reached for the door handle, his movements automatic, like muscle memory honed over years. Sliding into the driver's seat, he adjusted it instinctively.

Behind him, Ryan followed at a slower pace. His shoes scuffed against the gravel as he approached the passenger side. There was an uncharacteristic hesitation in his step, a pause that lingered long enough to be noticed. His hand hovered over the door handle, fingers brushing it lightly before retreating. Ryan didn't open the door. Instead, he stepped back, tilting his head slightly as if considering some private thought. Then, without warning, he pivoted on his heel and strode past the front seat. The grin on his face widened as he reached for the back door instead, yanking it open with an exaggerated flourish before sliding in.

Ryan drawled as he leaned back into the seat, stretching out as he owned it. "I'll let someone else play co-pilot."

Nate caught the movement in his peripheral vision and turned his head just enough to see Ryan settling in behind him. He reached for the ignition key hanging from its chain and waited. Seconds later, Caleb emerged from the house, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. His expression was unreadable at first, guarded in how he often was when he didn't want anyone guessing what was happening inside his head.

Nate leaned over slightly and pushed open the passenger door without looking up. The gesture was casual but deliberate, an invitation offered without words. Caleb stopped short momentarily, his eyes flickering toward Nate with something almost imperceptible amusement. It passed too quickly for Nate to pin down. But then Caleb did something unexpected.

He walked right past the open door.

As Caleb circled around, Ryan released a low whistle from the backseat and opened the rear door instead. Without hesitation, Caleb slid into the seat beside him. Their shoulders bumped briefly as Caleb settled in, and he softly closed the door behind him. Nate froze for a beat too long, a rare moment where he seemed genuinely caught off guard. His hand hovered over the key in the ignition, unsure.

Ryan turned toward Caleb slowly, one eyebrow arched high above a mischievous grin. "What's this?" he teased lightly.

Caleb shrugged as though it were no big deal, but there was an unmistakable gleam in his eye now, a spark of rebellion, camaraderie, or maybe both. "Figured I'd keep you company," he said casually before shooting Ryan a sideways glance.

Ryan snorted at that and gave Caleb an exaggerated once-over. "Right." He raised a hand dramatically to his chest like he'd been deeply moved by Caleb's selflessness.

Nate finally shook himself out of his frozen state and let out a soft laugh under his breath before leaning back into his seat and stretching across to shut the still-open passenger door himself. With one last glance in the rearview mirror, where Ryan's grin mirrored Caleb's smirk, Nate turned the key in the ignition. The engine roared to life beneath them, vibrating through every bone and sinew like it carried more than just power: it carried intention.

*

The coastline stretched endlessly beside them, golden sand melting seamlessly into the deep, shifting blue of the Pacific.

Inside the car, Caleb was sprawled sideways across the backseat, his long legs stretched lazily over Ryan's lap as though they had always belonged there. Green eyes, half-lidded beneath dark lashes, occasionally flickered to life. His fingers tapped absently against his stomach, a light rhythm that matched neither the music nor the ocean but seemed somewhere in between.

Ryan sat beside him, sinking so far into his seat that he looked like he might disappear entirely. His hands worked Caleb's feet with absentminded expertise, his thumbs pressing gently into the arches, kneading knots from muscles Caleb didn't even realize were tense until now. There was no hesitation in his movements, no second-guessing. His hands moved like they knew exactly what they were doing, like they'd done this a hundred times before. His other hand trailed over the stitching of the leather seat beside him, fingers tracing invisible patterns as though anchoring himself to something tangible.

Caleb cracked a small smile, barely more than a twitch at the corner of his lips. "Go down a bit..." he muttered softly, his voice low and relaxed as though he'd just woken from a nap he hadn't intended to take.

Ryan didn't look at him or even blink, but one side of his mouth quirked upward in a lopsided grin that Caleb couldn't see but somehow felt all the same.

For hours, they'd driven without much conversation, just the road stretching ahead and the ocean keeping pace beside them. Nate sat at the wheel. He glanced at them occasionally through the rearview mirror, not often enough to be noticeable, but just enough to notice things. Little things. Like how Ryan's fingers curled slightly under Caleb's foot without him realizing it or how Caleb didn't flinch away from being touched.

Then Ryan shifted abruptly beneath Caleb's legs. "This is getting depressing," he muttered under his breath before straightening up so suddenly that Caleb's legs bounced unceremoniously off his lap.

"Hey!" Caleb protested half-heartedly, shooting Ryan an indignant look as his feet hit the seat.

But Ryan ignored him entirely, leaning forward instead to fiddle with the car's outdated radio controls. His fingers spun through stations, static crackling through speakers interrupted sporadically by bursts of mariachi horns or crooning Spanish ballads.

"Ryan," Nate said warningly from the front without taking his eyes off the road.

"It's fine," Ryan shot back quickly before Nate could finish whatever fatherly lecture he'd been about to deliver. And then, just as Caleb opened his mouth to say something undoubtedly sarcastic, a familiar guitar riff cut through the static.

Ryan froze for half a beat before leaning back into his seat with a satisfied smirk spreading across his face. He bobbed his head lightly to the opening chords as though congratulating himself on finding something halfway decent amidst miles of lousy reception. The song swelled in volume, a classic rock anthem he and Nate had repeatedly listened to during countless evenings when life had been simpler. It filled every crevice inside the car with pounding drums and wailing guitars until even Caleb cracked open one eye again from where he'd been feigning sleep.

Ryan's fingers moved with an unconscious rhythm, kneading into the arch of Caleb's foot, where it pressed into his thigh. His touch was light but willful, his thumb tracing small circles along the bony ridge of Caleb's ankle. There was nothing hurried about it, just a slow, grounding presence that spoke louder than words could manage. It wasn't just idleness but possessiveness in its gentleness, anchoring Caleb to him.

The radio droned on.

Occasionally, Nate's gaze flicked to the rearview mirror, catching fragmented glimpses of them: Ryan's hand resting lightly on Caleb's leg, Caleb's lips parting slightly as he relaxed into Ryan's touch. Nate swallowed hard and returned to driving, but his mind lingered on what he'd seen. Their intimacy wasn't loud or ostentatious. It was quiet and unyielding like ivy creeping up a wall until it seemed like it had always been there.

In the backseat, Ryan let a smirk tug at his lips, a brief flicker of amusement as he caught Nate's glance in the mirror. He didn't bother holding Nate's gaze for long. His attention returned to Caleb. His hand drifted lower, fingers ghosting along the inside of Caleb's calf now. The warmth of Caleb's skin beneath his palm felt like reassurance, as much for himself as for Caleb.

"Where are you going?" Caleb cracked an eye open lazily, his voice teasing but edged with affection. His lips curved in an almost smile that he seemed too tired or stubborn to fully commit to.

Ryan chuckled lowly, not even attempting to deny it. "You know."

Caleb let out a dramatic sigh but didn't push him away. Instead, he shifted slightly, dragging his foot off Ryan's lap and sitting up properly. The movement was unhurried, almost feline in its grace. His green eyes met Ryan's blue ones across the narrow space between them, a meeting of contrasts: green like summer leaves after rain, blue like storm clouds over open water. For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Ryan leaned forward first, instinctually rather than a decision, and reached out without hesitation. His hand slid behind Caleb's neck, his fingers threading through curls damp from heat and humidity. The texture beneath his fingertips was familiar and grounding. Caleb leaned into the touch. His forehead rested lightly against Ryan's, their breaths mingling in shallow puffs. Ryan tilted his head slightly, and their noses brushed. It was a fleeting touch that sent sparks skittering down Caleb's spine.

"Hey..." Caleb whispered, barely audible over the music and waves outside.

Ryan smirked again at that, a flash of teeth, but softness was behind it this time. Something unguarded and raw that he didn't try to hide anymore. "Hey, nerd," he murmured.

And then he kissed him.

It started tentatively, a brush of lips. But when Caleb inhaled sharply, his fingers finding Ryan's wrist and clutching, not to stop him but to steady himself, the restraint snapped like a thread pulled too tight for too long.

The kiss deepened naturally. Their mouths moved together with an urgency tempered by care, exploratory but confident. The world outside blurred into irrelevance, the motion of the car smoothing every bump in their path. Nate exhaled sharply through his nose as he tightened his grip on the wheel again but said nothing.

There was only this moment for Caleb and Ryan: warm breaths mingling between kisses, fingertips brushing against jawlines and collarbones, hearts pounding out uneven rhythms they couldn't quite sync but didn't need to. When they finally pulled back, foreheads still pressed together, they breathed harder than they realized. Ryan was grinning now, not smug or teasing this time, but something softer. Something real.

"I bet that got him hard as fuck," he said quietly.

Caleb huffed out a laugh, small but genuine, and shook his head in mock exasperation. "Definitely."

*

The car rumbled as it veered off the main road.

Caleb stirred first, his breath hitching softly as he shifted. His emerald eyes, still heavy with sleep, blinked slowly as they adjusted to the fiery light spilling through the windows. For a moment, he looked disoriented, his brows knitting together as he took in the unfamiliar landscape stretching out before them.

"Where the hell are we?" Caleb muttered groggily, his voice roughened by sleep. He scrubbed at his face with the back of his hand, trying to shake off the lingering fog of his nap. His curls were slightly mussed from where they had pressed against Ryan's shoulder, giving him an endearingly unguarded look.

Ryan shifted beside him, groaning softly as he stretched out his arms and rolled his neck to work out the stiffness from sitting too long. He blinked a few times before turning his attention to the window. His blue eyes widened imperceptibly as they took in the scene unfolding before them.

A sprawling five-star resort loomed ahead, perched dramatically on the edge of the coastline like a crown jewel overlooking its kingdom. Its architecture was breathtaking, a seamless blend of sleek modern luxury and traditional Mexican charm. The whitewashed walls seemed to glow softly in the waning sunlight, their surfaces interrupted by graceful archways and intricately carved wooden balconies with hanging bougainvillea. Below, a pristine private beach stretched like a slice of paradise, its sand untouched and gleaming like powdered gold. Massive infinity pools shimmered in shades of aquamarine, their edges so perfectly aligned with the horizon that it seemed they spilled directly into the ocean.

Ryan blew a low whistle, leaning slightly closer to get a better view. "Shit," he breathed under his breath, his tone a mixture of awe and disbelief.

The car rolled to a smooth stop beneath an arched portico at the resort's grand entrance. Bellhops in crisp white uniforms moved toward them with genuine warmth in their expressions.

Nate was already stepping out of the car, running a hand through his dark hair to smooth it into place. He scanned their surroundings with sharp eyes that betrayed nothing of his thoughts. Without hesitation, he strode toward the concierge desk near the entrance, his deep voice carrying effortlessly across the space. Every word was laced confidently and precisely as he slipped seamlessly into Spanish.

"Buenas noches," he began smoothly, his tone polite but commanding enough to turn heads nearby. "Necesito la mejor suite disponible. Algo con privacidad."

The concierge, a distinguished older gentleman with neatly combed hair, straightened immediately at Nate's approach. His professional demeanor softened slightly under Nate's charm but remained impeccably courteous as he responded. "Por supuesto, señor," he replied with a slight nod of acknowledgment. "Tenemos nuestra villa privada con vista al mar. Cuenta con tres habitaciones, terraza privada y acceso directo a la playa."

Nate inclined his head ever so slightly in approval, extracting a sleek black credit card from his wallet before sliding it across the counter without glancing down. "Perfecto," he said.

Beside the car, Caleb and Ryan exchanged glances, one eyebrow arched higher than the other on Ryan's face. At the same time, Caleb's lips quirked upward in something caught between amusement and incredulity.

Ryan leaned slightly toward Caleb. "Since when are we vacationing?" he murmured dryly. Caleb chuckled softly but said nothing, watching Nate turn back toward them.

"Come on," Nate said simply as he gestured for them to follow him inside.

Caleb climbed out first this time, unfolding himself from the car with an exaggerated stretch that made him groan quietly in relief. The humid air hit him immediately, a thick blanket wrapping around him, but it felt strangely grounding instead of discomforting him further after hours of cooping up in a car.

Ryan followed suit moments later but kept his hands shoved deep into his pockets. His skeptical expression was more pronounced now as he glanced between Nate and their surroundings again like he was waiting for a punchline. "Shouldn't we be…you know...moving?" Ryan asked slowly after another beat of silence, a pointed edge creeping into his voice despite its even delivery.

Nate paused mid-step at that question, exhaling softly through parted lips before meeting Ryan's questioning gaze head-on. "We can afford one night."

The concierge led them through the resort's labyrinthine paths, each twist and turn revealing a new paradise pocket.

As they walked, Ryan glanced around, his gaze darting from one detail to another. He nudged Caleb lightly with his elbow, his voice low but tinged with awe. "This place is insane," he murmured, his eyes catching on a row of flickering lanterns swaying gently in the humid breeze.

The concierge stopped at the farthest corner of the property, where a secluded villa rose from the edge of a rocky outcrop. It was an understated luxury, with no garish displays or over-the-top extravagance, just a quiet elegance that whispered rather than shouted.

Inside, the suite was nothing short of breathtaking. The open floor plan spread out before them like a carefully curated painting. The warm tones of terracotta and woven rugs in intricate patterns softened the space, and crafted Mexican decor adorned every surface.

"Holy shit," Ryan said softly as he wandered further inside, his fingers trailing absently along the edge of a long wooden dining table that anchored the room.

Caleb was no less impressed. His attention was drawn to the massive floor-to-ceiling windows that dominated one wall. They framed an uninterrupted view of the Pacific Ocean, a vast expanse of blue that seemed to stretch endlessly. Beyond those windows lay sliding glass doors that opened onto what could only be described as paradise.

The terrace was expansive, its stone flooring cool beneath their feet despite the day's lingering heat. Caleb moved closer to the edge of the terrace, where a stone pathway meandered toward a pristine beach below. He turned back to Ryan, his face lit with an almost childlike glee. "Three...two...one...go," he said simply before breaking into a wide grin.

Ryan blinked once in surprise before realization dawned, and then he was off like a shot.

"Mother f..." Caleb called after him as he yanked off his shirt mid-sprint and flung it carelessly onto one of the terrace chairs.

Ryan laughed over his shoulder without slowing down. "You snooze, you lose, nerd!" he shouted just before leaping over a low stone wall separating the terrace from the stairs leading down to the sand.

By the time they hit the beach, both boys were shedding clothes like old skins, shoes kicked off haphazardly, and shirts discarded without thought until their bare bodies hit the water. The ocean welcomed them with open arms, its waves calm and invigorating against their heated skin as they dove beneath its surface. Their laughter echoed across the private cove.

Standing alone on the terrace above them, Nate watched silently, one hand wrapped loosely around a glass filled with something dark and potent. But he didn't drink it. He merely held it as if grounding himself in reality while witnessing something almost otherworldly. His gaze softened as it followed their movements, Ryan dunking Caleb under, only for Caleb to resurface moments later with an indignant sputter and an infectious grin. They wrestled playfully amid the waves like children who had never known hardship or pain, their limbs tangling and untangling with effortless ease.

Nate's chest tightened inexplicably as he watched them, those two young souls who had somehow become his reason for everything. For so long now, he had been running, chasing survival like some elusive prey always out of reach.

But suddenly, there in front of him was the reason.
Why he endured.

It wasn't for himself. It never was.

It was for them.

*

The scent of grilled seafood and fresh tortillas filled the warm evening air as Caleb and Ryan stepped onto the terrace. Their hair, still damp from the shower, clung in unruly strands to their foreheads, glinting faintly under the soft glow of paper lanterns strung overhead. The night had fully settled in, cloaking the world in a deep indigo sky.

Ryan blew an exaggerated whistle as his sharp blue eyes absorbed the extravagant spread. He dropped into a seat with a theatrical sigh, leaning back and folding his arms behind his head. "Are you expecting more people?" he teased, his tone light but edged with genuine curiosity. The flicker of amusement in his gaze betrayed how impressed he was despite himself.

Nate smirked, swirling the mezcal in his glass before taking a slow sip. He set it down with deliberate care, savoring the burn before answering. "No," he said dryly.

Caleb chuckled softly as he pulled out a chair across from Nate and sank into it. His green eyes scanned the table before landing on Nate, his expression softening into something quieter, more thoughtful. "This is…a lot," he murmured, gesturing vaguely at the feast.

Nate shrugged one shoulder, dismissive yet oddly resolute. He reached for a tortilla and began loading it with carnitas and a generous dollop of salsa verde. "Eat up," he said, taking a bite before continuing through a mouthful. He chewed thoughtfully and swallowed before adding, quieter now but no less firm, "We deserve this."

Ryan reached for a plate and began assembling his own taco with an almost reverent focus. He glanced up briefly, breaking the weighty silence with his signature irreverence. "Well," he drawled as he piled on an obscene amount of guacamole, "I'm not complaining. But if I wake up tomorrow and find out this was some elaborate death-row last meal before we hit the road, I'm gonna be pissed."

Caleb snorted into his mezcal and poured himself a glass from the bottle Nate had left uncorked on the table. "We haven't even decided where we're going yet," he countered dryly, arching an eyebrow at Ryan.

Ryan waved his taco vaguely through the air like a prophetic instrument. "Exactly my point," he said around a mouthful of food.

Nate leaned back in his chair. Without saying anything, he reached for a pre-rolled joint resting casually next to his plate. He lit it, shielding the flame from the breeze with one hand until it caught, and took a long drag before passing it to Ryan.

Ryan accepted it with his usual smirk. After inhaling slowly and deliberately, he blew out a languid stream of smoke that curled upward. He held out the joint toward Caleb with an exaggerated flourish. "Your turn, nerd," he said lightly, though there was an unmistakable challenge in his tone. Caleb took an experimental hit and immediately doubled over, coughing into his sleeve. His cheeks flushed crimson under Ryan's uproarious laughter. "That," Ryan gasped between wheezing fits of mirth, "...was embarrassing."

"I hope you choke on your churro," Caleb muttered darkly as he straightened up and took another smoother and more controlled drag. He exhaled slowly through pursed lips before reaching for his mezcal again to wash away any lingering burn.

As the night went on, the three sat sprawled around the table, their postures growing looser with each passing hour.

Ryan leaned back in his rickety chair, its legs creaking dangerously under his weight, but he didn't seem to care. His head tipped back, exposing his throat to the cool night air as he stared up at the heavens with a grin that bordered on blissful. "You know," he began, his voice slightly slurred but warm, "If you'd told me a year ago that I'd be sitting in Mexico, high as a kite, eating fish tacos with..." He paused dramatically, his gaze flicking between Nate and Caleb as if weighing his words carefully. Then, with a lopsided grin that lit up his face and softened his usual sharp edges, he finished, "...my fucked-up little family, I'd have said you were crazy."

Nate didn't even glance up from the glass he was nursing. He swirled the mezcal lazily, watching the liquid catch the light like molten gold. His silent attitude carried just enough sarcasm to make Caleb snort into his drink.

Ryan sat up in mock indignation, pressing a hand dramatically to his chest like Nate had just delivered a mortal wound. "Excuse you," he shot back, eyes wide with feigned offense. "I'm the glue holding this entire thing together."

Caleb nearly choked on his sip of mezcal. "If by glue," he managed between fits of laughter, "you mean constant source of chaos…then yeah, sure." He wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand and shook his head fondly.

Ryan turned sharply toward Nate for backup. "Tell him I'm the favorite," he demanded.

Nate didn't even bother hiding the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He took a slow sip of his drink before replying simply, "Not a chance."

Ryan gasped audibly. "Unbelievable," he muttered theatrically. Then he turned to Caleb with narrowed eyes. "Trade seats with me," he insisted, jerking a thumb toward Nate. "I can't sit next to a traitor."

Caleb rolled his eyes but didn't move an inch. Instead, he leaned back in his chair and took another leisurely sip of his drink, letting Ryan stew in his exaggerated outrage. And slowly, he grew quieter, lulled by mezcal and exhaustion, contentment or peace or whatever this rare reprieve felt like in their bones.

"We should stay here forever," Caleb murmured drowsily, almost more to himself than anyone else.

"Yeah," Ryan murmured after a beat. His voice was quieter now, too, stripped of its usual bravado. "Not a bad idea."

Suddenly, Caleb's eyes widened. "Fuck, I love this song!" he exclaimed, standing up and pulling away from the table.

The bassline thrummed, a sultry rhythm pulsing like a heartbeat. Caleb's body began to move, every arch and twist of his hips a deliberate tease. His shirt clung to his sweat-slicked chest, the fabric translucent. His fingers trailed down his torso as if inviting all eyes to watch. Nate's breath hitched as he sat stiffly in his chair, his pants tightening painfully around his growing erection. He swirled the whiskey in his glass, but his eyes were locked on Caleb. The way Caleb's body moved was hypnotic, his every motion a seductive invitation, his lips curved into a knowing smile.

Ryan couldn't resist.

He rose from his seat, his body gravitating toward Caleb as if pulled by an invisible force. Their bodies met, and their chemistry was electrically undeniable at this point. Ryan's hands found Caleb's hips, gripping them with a hunger that made Nate's cock twitch in envy. Their swaying became a full-on rhythm, their bodies grinding together in a way that left nothing to the imagination. Caleb's head tilted back, exposing the column of his neck, and Ryan's lips descended on that vulnerable skin. The sound that escaped Caleb's lips, a low, throaty moan, made Nate's knuckles whiten around his glass. He shifted in his seat, his cock straining against the fabric of his pants, desperate for relief.

The kiss was inevitable.

When their lips finally met, it was like fireworks, slow at first, a tentative brush, then deepening into something hotter, wetter, more urgent. Caleb's tongue slid against Ryan's, their mouths moving in a rhythm that mirrored their bodies. Ryan's hands roamed Caleb's back, pulling him closer until there wasn't an inch of space between them.

Nate couldn't take it anymore, so he stood. His cock was aching now, throbbing with every pulse of his heartbeat. He began to pace along the terrace's perimeter, his eyes never leaving the two boys. Every step felt like agony, his body screaming to join in, to feel what they were feeling.

Finally, Nate settled on the edge of the coffee table near the balcony, his back facing the ocean, legs spread wide as he stared at the scene before him. Caleb and Ryan were lost in each other now, their movements growing more frantic, more despairing. Caleb's hands were tangled in Ryan's hair, pulling him closer, while Ryan's hands slid down to grip Caleb's ass, squeezing it hard enough to draw another moan from those perfect lips.

Nate's hand drifted to his own lap, his fingers brushing over the bulge in his pants. As he watched Caleb and Ryan lose themselves in each other, his hand began to move slowly and deliberately, already imagining what it would feel like to be between them, feel their bodies against his, and taste the sweat on their skin. The scene was raw, unbridled, a dance of bodies and desires that left no room for thought, only sensation. And Nate was trapped in the middle of it, a willing prisoner to its beauty and the heat it created.

Caleb's gaze slithered over to Nate, his eyes smoldering like two emerald jewels ready to swallow him whole. "Does this remind you of something?" he purred, his voice dripping with a sultry heat that could melt steel. His lips curled into a wicked grin, his tongue darting out to wet them just enough to make Nate's cock twitch in his pants. Ryan, meanwhile, was too busy suckling on Caleb's neck like a starved animal, his lips locked onto the tender flesh as if he was trying to leave a permanent mark. The sound of his wet, hungry kisses filled the room, stoking the fire in Nate's lower abdomen. Nate's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, his fingers unconsciously drifting to rub at the growing bulge in his jeans. He smiled then, an acknowledgment of his son's empowerment. He couldn't help but let a soft breath escape his lips, one that carried the pride of finally witnessing Caleb's coming of age.

"Alright...what are the rules?" he asked, his voice trembling with a mix of nervousness and raw, unbridled arousal. His cock was already straining against the fabric, begging for release, but Caleb wasn't about to make this easy for him.

Caleb tilted his head back, giving Ryan more access to his neck, and let out a low, guttural moan that made Nate's balls ache. "The rules are simple," he breathed, his voice thick with lust. "You sit there and watch him fuck me. No touching yourself. No moving. Just watch." The words rolled off his tongue like honey, sweet and sticky, and Nate felt like he would explode right then and there.

Ryan pulled back from Caleb's neck with a wet pop, his lips glistening with spit. "Damn, nerd…savage," he chuckled, his eyes locked on Caleb's.

Nate's hand hesitated for a moment before he reluctantly pulled it away from his crotch, his fingers clutching the edge of the table. His cock throbbed in protest, but he knew better than to disobey Caleb. Not when the boy was looking at him like that, his eyes demanding, his body moving with grace as he began to undress.

Caleb's fingers made quick work of the buttons on his shirt, revealing a lean and perfectly sculpted chest, his skin smooth and begging to be touched. Ryan wasn't far behind, his hands trembling as he yanked off his own shirt, revealing a torso that was just as delicious. The two rubbed against each other as they stripped down to nothing, their dicks already hard and aching as they moved to the sofa smack in front of where Nate sat.

Caleb pushed Ryan onto it, his hands sliding down Ryan's chest as he straddled his thighs. The sight of their naked bodies pressed together was almost too much for Nate to handle, Caleb's toned ass perched on Ryan's muscular legs, their cocks brushing against each other as they shifted slightly. Caleb looked back at Nate over his shoulder, his lips curling into a wicked smirk. He reached back and wrapped his hand around Ryan's cock, giving it a few lazy strokes that had Ryan groaning and thrusting up into his hand. Caleb's other hand gripped Ryan's thigh for balance as he shifted his hips, grinding his ass against Ryan's erection.

Nate's fists clenched at his sides, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps as he watched Caleb take control. His sexual nature was unforgiving and majestic, his movements calculated and precise yet naturally charming, designed to drive Ryan and Nate insane. Caleb's ass bounced as he continued to grind against Ryan. Ryan's hands gripped Caleb's hips, his fingers digging into the flesh as he tried to push him down harder, desperate for more friction. Caleb's body was a chef-d'oeuvre of raw desire, every inch of him radiating heat like a furnace begging to be stoked. His chest, heaving, crushed against Ryan's in a collision of muscle and need. Caleb's lips were a breath away from Ryan's ear, his hot breath ghosting over the sensitive skin as he murmured something so filthy, so unhinged, that Ryan's groan rumbled deep in his chest, a sound so loud it could've shattered glass.

But Caleb wasn't done.

With a smirk that could make a saint sin, he pulled back just enough to hawk a thick glob of saliva into his palm, the sound wet and obscene. The spit glistened as he reached down, his fingers wrapping around Ryan's cock with the kind of confidence that left no doubt about who was in charge. Ryan's dick was already dripping with precome, just begging to be taken. Caleb teased him mercilessly, stroking once, twice, just enough to make Ryan swear under his breath, before guiding the swollen head to his tight, fluttering entrance. The pressure was electric, the tip nudging against Caleb's rim, slick with spit and need.

And then Caleb began to sink down slowly, his ass swallowing Ryan's cock inch by inch. The stretch was deliciously brutal, his tight hole yielding to the intrusion with pleasure and pain that had him keening, his head thrown back in ecstasy. Ryan's hands gripped Caleb's hips as he fought the urge to thrust up and bury himself to the hilt. Caleb's muscles were a labyrinth of raw power, every tendon and vein flexing as he thrust himself down onto Ryan's throbbing cock. The room was a cacophony of wet, sloppy slaps, the low, guttural groans of two young men losing themselves to pleasure. Caleb's cock, rock-hard and glistening with pre-cum, slapped against his abs with every brutal bounce. His hole was stretched wide around Ryan's dick, his tight, pink rim pulsating as it took every inch, welcoming the invasion with obscene greed.

Caleb slowed for a moment, pulling off Ryan's cock with a wet schlick, his hole gaping and twitching, begging to be filled again. He turned to face Nate, his emerald eyes burning lustfully and smirking. "Enjoying the show?" he purred, his voice dripping with wicked intent. Without waiting for an answer, Caleb positioned himself over Ryan's cock again, guiding the slick, swollen head to his entrance. He pressed down slowly, hissing as it breached him, the stretch making his cock jerk and leak. Once fully impaled, Caleb paused, letting Ryan feel every clench of his tight, hungry hole.

Then, with a deep breath, Caleb started moving again, his hips rolling in a way that made Ryan's cock grind against his prostate with every motion. His ass cheeks jiggled with each bounce, the sound echoing through the room like a drumbeat. Caleb's cock swung wildly, slapping against his stomach, leaving streaks of precum in its wake. His balls tightened, a sure sign he was getting close, but he wasn't ready to finish yet. Caleb reached down and gripped Ryan's thighs, using them for leverage as he slammed himself down harder, faster. The couch rocked violently, threatening to give out under their reckless fucking. Caleb's hole was a swollen, wet mess, stretched to its limit around Ryan's cock.

Nate sat frozen, his own cock straining against his pants, but Caleb wouldn't let him touch himself. "Keep those hands where I can see them," Caleb growled, his voice low and commanding. "You wanna fuck this ass?" he questioned in between heavy panting. "Bet you're remembering...how tight it is... aren't you...Daddy?" Caleb's pace became erratic, his body trembling as he edged closer to his release. His cock was leaking like a broken faucet, precum pooling on his stomach as he continued to bounce. Caleb's moans grew louder, his voice breaking as he neared the edge. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum," he gasped, his hole clenching around Ryan's cock.

And then it happened. Caleb's cock erupted like a geyser, thick ropes of cum shooting out in hot, sticky bursts. The first spurt landed on his chest, painting his pecs with creamy streaks. The second splattered across his abs, sliding down his skin in rivulets of pure filth. His body convulsed, every muscle tightening and releasing as his hole clenched around Ryan's cock, milking it.

Ryan wasn't far behind. The feel of Caleb's tight ass clamping down on him sent him over the edge. With a guttural groan, he shoved himself balls-deep and came hard, his cock pulsing as he pumped Caleb full of his seed. The warmth flooded Caleb's ass, dripping out around Ryan's shaft and pooling on the couch's fabric beneath them.

Caleb collapsed onto Ryan's chest, his body still twitching with the aftershocks of his orgasm. His skin was slick with sweat and cum, his breath coming in ragged gasps. But the look on his face? Captivating. His lips curled into a grin as he locked eyes with Nate, whose gaze bordered on feral.

Caleb pulled Ryan's throbbing cock out of his gaping hole with a wet sound, leaving Ryan sprawled and panting on the sofa. Ryan's chest heaved, his pecs glistening with a sheen of sweat, his cock still hard and twitching against his stomach like it was begging for more. Caleb didn't waste a second. He leaned forward and reached for Nate, his massive frame looming over his father. Caleb's grip clamped around Nate's neck, pulling him close enough to feel the heat radiating off his father's body.

"Now," Caleb snarled, his voice low and dripping with quiet authority, "I want you to wait here for a couple of minutes." His breath was hot against Nate's ear. "Then...I want you to get naked and come meet us inside. I've got a surprise for you." His words were a threat, a promise, and a command all rolled into one.

Nate sucked in a sharp breath, his cock already straining against his jeans. "Jesus Christ…" he whispered, his voice cracking slightly. His entire body was on fire, every nerve ending, screaming for Caleb's touch.

Nate's eyes locked onto Caleb's hand as it wrapped around Ryan's wrist. The way Caleb dragged Ryan into the main bedroom wasn't just a casual tug but a primal claim, a silent declaration. Nate's pulse quickened, his dick twitching uncontrollably. He chuckled nervously, but it wasn't humor. It was the sound of a man teetering on the edge of losing his mind.

And so he waited, around one agonizing minute, before he finally stood up, his fingers trembling as they gripped the hem of his shirt. He ripped it off, exposing his sculpted chest. His abs were a roadmap, every ridge and contour begging to be touched, licked, and worshipped. His jeans came next, peeling down his thick thighs like they were desperate to release the monster they'd been hiding. And what a monster it was: nine inches of hard, throbbing cock, veins pulsing like they were alive.

He grabbed his glass, tipped it back, and let the whisky burn down his throat. He stepped across the terrace, his bare feet slapping against the cold marble, and pushed open the door to the main bedroom. The music was still playing, but it was muffled now, drowned out by Caleb and Ryan's bodies moving on the bed. The sheets rustled, soft moans escaping their lips as they writhed together in a tangle of limbs and lust. Nate paused in the doorway, his eyes devouring the scene before him. Caleb and Ryan were sprawled out naked, their bodies glistening with sweat. Ryan's chest heaved as he lay on his back, his cock still hard and dripping onto his stomach. Caleb was on his side, his ass firm and round, like two ripe peaches, facing Nate. Their legs were parted just enough to leave a space between them, an invitation for Nate to slide right into the middle of this scrumptious sandwich.

Caleb pulled himself up then, kneeling on the bed like a siren, his eyes locking onto Nate's with a hunger that made his knees weak. Caleb's cock was hard, the tip slick with arousal, and it twitched as he spoke. "I always wondered…what it would be like," Caleb said, his voice low and dripping with desire.

"What…?" Nate stuttered, his brain short-circuiting as he tried to process the sight before him.

"To have both of you…at the same time," Caleb purred, his lips curling into a smile. Ryan and Nate exchanged a glance, their lips parting as if they were about to speak, but no words came out. Caleb leaned back slightly, spreading his legs wider as he reached down to stroke his own cock. "I figured…why not just do it," he added, his voice dripping with sinful intent.

Nate's hand rose instinctively, his calloused fingers dragging through his thick, unkempt beard as his gaze locked onto the vision before him, his son, his brother, Caleb, a masterpiece of a creature, kneeling at the edge of the bed like a prayer to sin itself. Caleb's body was an altar, his lips parted as if begging to be worshipped.

Caleb moved, crawling across the mattress with an almost obscene grace. His fingers closed around Nate's throat, pulling him down into a kiss that was more teeth and tongue than anything else, a claiming, a declaration.

Behind them, Ryan lay, his hand working over his own cock. "Fuck, that's hot," he moaned, his voice low and ragged, his eyes glued as he watched Caleb push Nate onto the bed, his body hitting it with a soft thud.

"Stay there," Caleb growled, his voice a command that sent a shiver down Nate's spine. Nate's hands moved to cradle the back of his head, his biceps flexing as he braced himself.

Caleb's hand was on him in an instant, grabbing Nate's cock. His fingers wrapped around the base, squeezing just enough to make Nate hiss through clenched teeth. Caleb's eyes flicked up, locking onto Ryan's as he jerked his chin in a silent command. Ryan didn't need to be told twice, crawling over to position himself at Caleb's side. Together, they descended on Nate's cock, their mouths warm and wet as they took him in.

Caleb went first, his lips wrapping around the massive head in a slow, torturous slide. His tongue swirled around the tip, lapping at the bead of precum that had gathered there, sucking it down like it was the sweetest nectar. Ryan wasn't far behind, taking the length of Nate's shaft into his mouth with a groan that vibrated through the cock in his throat. Nate's hips bucked involuntarily, his hands gripping the pillow behind him as he fought to keep himself still.

The sensation was overwhelming.

"Fuck," Nate groaned, his voice rough and ragged. "You two..."

Caleb pulled back just enough to smirk at him, his lips slick and swollen. "You like that?" he purred, his voice dripping with mock innocence. "You like watching us do this together?"

Ryan didn't say a word, too busy choking himself on Nate's cock, his saliva dripping down the shaft as he bobbed his head with an insane rhythm whilst trying to control his labored breathing. Nate's body was on fire, every nerve ending alight as his boys worked him over skillfully. Caleb leaned in, his lips brushing against Ryan's as they both sucked on Nate's cock at the same time, their tongues tangling around the thick length of him.

"Fuck!" Nate shouted, his hips bucking off the bed. The sight of his precious boys sharing his cock, their lips meeting as they worshipped him, was too much.

But Caleb wasn't done. Not even close.

Like a maestro of desire, his every move seemed calculated to ignite the fire between them. His hand gripped Ryan's hip, guiding his body with precision onto Nate's throbbing cock. Ryan's breath hitched, his hole trembling as the swollen head pressed against his entrance. Caleb could see the tension in Ryan's shoulders, the way his body quivered with anticipation, and it only fueled his own lust.

As Ryan sank down, taking Nate's thick, pulsating length inch by glorious inch, Caleb slid up the bed. His lips crashed into Nate's, their mouths tangling in a messy, desperate kiss that left them both panting. Caleb could feel Nate's breath shuddering into his mouth as Ryan's ass finally swallowed every last inch of Nate's cock. Sensing this, Caleb broke the kiss, his lips slick with saliva, and moved up to Ryan. Their mouths met in a moan-filled collision, tongues wrestling as Nate began to move, his hips rolling in slow, deliberate thrusts. Ryan's hole clenched around Nate's cock, the wet, sticky sound of their joining filling the room.

Caleb pulled back, his eyes dark with hunger. "Kiss him," he whispered.

Nate hesitated, his cock buried deep in Ryan's ass, his lips still wet from Caleb's kiss. "What…?" he stammered, his voice thick with arousal and confusion.

"I want you to kiss him…like you kiss me," Caleb demanded. The words came like a wind whisper. Light yet inevitable.

Nate and Ryan locked eyes, the air crackling with unspoken desire. It felt like the world had stopped for a moment, and then, like a dam breaking, their lips crashed together.

The kiss was gentle, tentative. But also raw, volcanic. Nate's tongue plunged into Ryan's mouth, their moans mingling as Nate's cock pistoned in and out of Ryan's willing hole. And that's when the boy's tears streaked down his cheeks, not from pain but from the overwhelming ecstasy of it all. Nate's lips moved with hunger, their kiss an unrelenting declaration of possession.

One that Ryan had longed for.

Caleb's hand snaked down to grip his own cock as he watched the two people he loved most in the world finally lose themselves in each other. "That's it," Caleb sizzled. "Love him. Make him feel it."

And so, Nate did.

His thrusts grew harder, faster, his balls smashing against Ryan's ass with a wet, rhythmic slap. Ryan's moans turned into screams as Nate's cock hit that sweet spot deep inside him, his body convulsing with pleasure.

And that's when it happened. Caleb moved like a shadow, his body sliding into position behind Ryan with the precision of someone who knew exactly what he wanted.

Nate, ever the commanding presence, held Ryan in his arms, his thick, veiny cock pistoning into Ryan's hole with a rhythm that was both merciless and intoxicating. "Nate…fuck…I missed you," Ryan gasped, his voice trembling, his body quivering like a leaf in a storm.

Nate's grip on Ryan's neck was firm, his fingers pressing just enough to make Ryan's breath hitch, his pulse thrumming wildly under the pressure. "I...missed you, too," Nate growled, his voice a low, guttural rumble that sent a shockwave of heat straight to Ryan's cock. His lips crashed into Ryan's with a ferocity that left no room for hesitation, tongues clashing, teeth nipping, the slick sound of their mouths working each other into a frenzy echoing in the room. Nate tasted like whiskey and sin, his tongue fucking Ryan's mouth with the same intensity with which his cock was burying itself in Ryan's ass. Ryan's moans were muffled, swallowed by Nate's relentless kiss, his hands clawing at Nate's back like he was afraid the man might disappear.

But then, Caleb was there.

Suddenly, Ryan's world tilted as Caleb's body pressed against his back, a solid wall of skin and heat. Caleb's breath was hot against Ryan's neck, his lips brushing the sensitive skin before his teeth sank in, marking Ryan as his own. "You're ours," Caleb whispered, his voice dripping with possessiveness as his hands roamed Ryan's body like he was mapping every curve, every ridge.

Caleb's fingers tugged at Ryan's waist. Ryan gasped, but there was no time to adjust. Caleb's cock was already there, insistent, pressing against Ryan's hole. "Relax," Caleb murmured, but it wasn't a request. It was a command, and Ryan's body obeyed, trembling as Caleb's slicked-up cock pushed inside, stretching him wider with a slow, burning intensity that made Ryan's eyes roll back.

"Fuuuuck!" Ryan choked out, his voice breaking as Caleb filled him, the sensation so overwhelming it bordered on pain. But then Nate was there too, his mouth moving down Ryan's chest, his tongue flicking over a nipple before sucking it hard, making Ryan's back arch. Nate's hand slid down Ryan's abs, fingers wrapping around his aching cock, stroking him in time with Caleb's thrusts.

Ryan was caught between the two of them, his body trembling as they worked him over with ruthless precision. Caleb's cock was a relentless force inside him, hitting Ryan's prostate with every thrust, while Nate's dick pulsated inside him, unmoving yet present, the pressure just enough to drive Ryan insane but not enough to let him come. "Nate...Caleb...I can't..." Ryan babbled, his words dissolving into incoherent moans as they played his body like a goddamn instrument.

"Yes, you can," Nate groaned, his voice dark and commanding as he leaned in to bite Ryan's earlobe.

Caleb's thrusts grew harder, deeper, his hands gripping Ryan's hips. "So fucking tight..." Caleb groaned, his voice rough with lust as he buried himself to the hilt, grinding against Ryan's ass to savor the way he clenched around him. "You feel that?" Caleb questioned, his voice waning.

But it wasn't Ryan he was talking to now. It was Nate. Who immediately nodded, unable to form words in the face of the overwhelming sensation of Caleb's cock rubbing against his inside Ryan.

Ryan's head fell back against Caleb's shoulder, his body entirely at their mercy as they drove him closer and closer to the edge. "Please," Ryan whimpered, his voice broken and pleading. "I need...I need to..."

"Caleb..." Nate said firmly, his eyes locking with Ryan's as he leaned in to kiss him again, swallowing his cries as Caleb pounded him into oblivion.

It was raw, it was primal, and it was beautiful. Ryan was theirs, body and soul, and they weren't letting go.

And then, it happened.

Caleb's rhythm faltered, his eyes rolling back as a low, primal growl tore from his chest. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum," he snarled, his voice raw and guttural. His hips stuttered, slamming forward one last time as his cock exploded deep inside Ryan's ass.

Nate wasn't far behind. With a groan that sounded like it came from the depths of his soul, he started to unload. The cum discharged in thick, glistening stripes, splattering into Ryan's swollen hole, making him whimper and buck his hips desperately.

And as for Ryan. Well, his body convulsed as he came untouched, his cock jerking and spilling cum all over himself. It was messy, filthy, and perfect.

They all finally collapsed into the bed, the mattress groaning under the weight of their collective exhaustion. Their limbs sprawled in chaotic disarray, as though gravity had claimed them in unison, pulling them into a shared orbit of fatigue and relief.

Ryan was the first to break the silence. A low chuckle bubbled up from his chest, unbidden and uncontrollable, until it spilled out in a full-bodied laugh. He turned his head toward the others, his face flushed and his dark hair sticking up at odd angles. His laughter was infectious, rough around the edges but warm. "Fuck…that was insane," Ryan gasped between breaths, his hand coming up to his quivering hole.

Sitting on his stomach with one arm thrown over his head, Caleb let out a muffled groan before turning to face Ryan. His lips twitched upward despite himself, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. He mentioned to retort but was interrupted by Nate's snort of laughter. Nate had been silent up until now, lying flat on his back with one arm draped lazily across his forehead. That was enough to send Ryan into another fit of laughter, his shoulders shaking as he fell back onto the mattress. Caleb finally gave in, too, the sound of his laughter low and rich, filling the room like a melody harmonizing with Ryan's sharp bursts.

And for a few minutes, they let it all out.
A beautiful, poetic moment of unbridled joy between three men.

Eventually, the room settled into a comfortable quiet. After that, their breathing began to even out as weariness overtook their lingering adrenaline. For now, for this fleeting moment, they didn't need to say anything more.

The last remnants of laughter lingered in their chests like an ember refusing to die out entirely, warming them from within as they drifted toward sleep.

*

The room reeked of sex, thick, musky, and intoxicating. Caleb lay sprawled on the bed, his body stretched like a sluggish cat, his feet kicking up lazily in the air as he read his book. But his eyes? His eyes kept flicking down to the real show, which had been grinding on for hours like a broken record of moans and skin smacking skin.

Nate had Ryan pinned against the wall, their sweaty bodies colliding, echoing like a drum solo. Ryan's legs were hooked around Nate's waist, his hole stretched wide around the brutal thickness of the hunk's cock. It was a fuckfest of epic proportions, and Ryan's ass was taking it like a champ, loose now, greedy, making obscene wet sounds every time Nate pulled out, only to slam back in.

"Fuck… Nate… dude," Ryan slurred, his voice trembling like he was about to cry. His cock was rock hard, leaking precum all over Nate's abs as they ground together. "You're wrecking me…Jesus Christ…" His head lolled back, his mouth hanging open as Nate pistoned into him with the precision of a jackhammer on overdrive.

Nate grinned, all teeth and raw fucking hunger, and leaned in to silence Ryan's babbling with a filthy, sloppy kiss. Their tongues clashed, spit dribbling down Ryan's chin as Nate's hips refused to stop. It was animalistic. It was perfect.

"Can you guys keep it down?" Caleb drawled from the bed, his voice dripping with sarcasm, but his eyes glued to the spectacle. "I'm trying to read here."

Nate chuckled, a deep, throaty sound that rumbled through Ryan's body as he carried him to the bed like a trophy. He dumped him right next to Caleb, the mattress bouncing under their weight, and plunged back into Ryan's hole without missing a beat. Caleb rolled his eyes but was already scooting closer, his book forgotten as he stared down at Ryan's blissed-out face.

"Nerd…" Ryan gasped, his lips curling into a weak smirk even as Nate's cock pounded him into the mattress. His body was trembling, sweat pooling in the dips of his abs, his cock twitching with every brutal thrust.

Caleb smirked back, his fingers trailing down Ryan's chest. "Are you gonna shoot?" he asked, his voice low and teasing.

Ryan nodded frantically, his hands fisting the sheets as he choked out, "Yeah…fuck, yeah…"

Caleb didn't waste a second. He shoved his head between them, his lips wrapping around Ryan's cock like he was starving for it. Ryan gasped, his hips bucking instinctively as Caleb sucked him deep, his tongue working the underside of Ryan's shaft like a pro. Nate didn't slow down, his thrusts growing more erratic, his balls slapping against Ryan's ass as he chased his own release.

Caleb bobbed his head, his cheeks hollowing as he sucked Ryan off with expert precision. Ryan's back arched off the bed, his toes curling as he came hard down Caleb's throat. Caleb swallowed every drop, his tongue milking Ryan's cock until he was twitching and whimpering from oversensitivity.

Nate wasn't far behind. With a guttural groan, he buried himself to the hilt in Ryan's ass and came, his cock pulsing as he emptied himself deep inside Ryan's hole. The sweat dripped off his brow as he collapsed onto Ryan's trembling body, their chests heaving in unison.

Caleb slowly pulled up, walking across the room as Nate's eyes followed him. As he was about to slide inside the bathroom, he turned. "You got some of that left for me?" Caleb murmured, his voice teasing.

Nate smiled.
He knew the question was just a courtesy.

*

An hour later, the steam from the shower wasn't the only thing fogging up the room. Nate and Caleb were turning that main suite into a goddamn sauna of sin.

Nate, all muscle and sweat, had Caleb pinned against the tiled wall, his hands gripping those slender hips hard enough to leave bruises. Caleb's legs were splayed wide, trembling with every brutal thrust of his father's cock.

"Oh fuck, Dad…your dick... it's so fucking deep," Caleb whimpered, his voice breaking as Nate buried himself balls-deep in his tight asshole. His own cock was leaking like a broken faucet, precum dribbling down onto the wet floor below.

Nate growled, his voice rough and primal. "That's it, baby. Take that cock." His thrusts were relentless, each one driving harder and deeper, splitting Caleb open. The head of his dick was brushing against Caleb's prostate with every plunge, sending shockwaves of pleasure through his body.

Caleb's hands scrambled for purchase on the slick tiles, but it was useless. He was entirely at Nate's mercy. His hole clenched around his father's cock, greedy and desperate, betraying just how much he fucking loved every inch of Nate's beast. "I...I can't...fuck, it's too good," he babbled, his voice cracking under the weight of his own pleasure.

Nate leaned in, his hot breath ghosting Caleb's ear as he whispered, "You love it, don't you?" His words were laced with intent, and Caleb shuddered, nodding frantically.

"Yes, yes...I love it," Caleb endeavored to respond before his voice dropped to a low whisper. "Dad...I...I love you...so fuckin' much," Caleb confessed, his voice a desperate cry. His own dick was throbbing, untouched, and begging for release, but Nate wasn't done with him yet. His hands slid up Caleb's rough and possessive sides before resting on his shoulders. Nate pulled out almost completely, leaving just the tip of his cock inside Caleb's abused hole, before slamming back in with a brutal thrust that had Caleb crying out.

"You're mine, kiddo," Nate growled, his rhythm becoming erratic as he neared his own climax. "I'll always be there..."

Caleb could feel it, the way Nate's cock twitched inside him, the way his thrusts became jerky and uneven. He knew Nate was close, and the thought of being filled with his cum sent him over the edge. His cock erupted untouched, ropes of white splattering against the wet tiles as he came harder than he ever had before.

"Fuck...!" Nate roared, burying himself one last time as his cock pulsed, flooding Caleb's guts with thick ropes of hot cum. The boy moaned, feeling every drop as Nate filled him to the brim.

The water kept pouring down over them, washing away some evidence of their sin, but not all of it. Nate stayed inside Caleb for a moment longer, letting his softening cock rest in that tight, warm hole before finally pulling out. Cum leaked out of Caleb's ass almost immediately, mixing with the water and running down his thighs.

"Good boy," Nate murmured, pressing a kiss to the back of Caleb's neck and slapping his ass before leaning against the wall, spent and trembling.

*

Ryan lounged on the terrace's plush sofa, its cushions molding around him as if inviting him to sink deeper into the night's quiet magic. His legs stretched out lazily, crossed at the ankles, while his hand cradled a glass of mezcal. He wasn't drunk, well, not entirely. He was caught in that perfect middle ground of intoxication where the edges of reality blurred just enough to make everything softer. The world felt lighter in this state, the weight of his thoughts dulled by the mezcal's smoky warmth sliding down his throat.

The glass clinked softly against the wooden table as he set it down, the sound barely audible over the ocean's lullaby. He leaned back further into the cushions, his head tilting up until he could see nothing but stars, a sprawling expanse of them, so many they seemed to swallow the night sky whole. Ryan exhaled deeply through his nose, his chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm that matched the waves.

Then came a sound, a soft creak that cut through the stillness like a whisper.

Ryan didn't move at first. He didn't need to. That particular sound, the subtle groan of wood shifting underweight, was one he'd instantly recognized. He knew who it was before he even turned his head.

Nate stepped onto the terrace quietly. He carried a fresh drink in one hand, something clear with ice cubes clinking softly in sync with his steps. His hair was tousled by the sex marathon they were engaging in, which gave him an unguarded look that Ryan rarely saw. Nate paused near the edge of the terrace for just a moment, his gaze sweeping over the ocean before turning toward Ryan. Without a word, he crossed the space between them and lowered himself onto the sofa beside him. The cushion shifted slightly under Nate's weight but quickly settled again as they sat side by side.

For a while, neither spoke. They didn't need to. The waves filled the space between them with their steady song, each crash against the shore, punctuating moments of shared silence. Ryan's fingers resumed tracing lazy circles along his bare knees while Nate nursed his drink with measured sips.

It was Nate who finally broke the quiet.

"Couldn't sleep?" His voice was low but carried easily in the stillness of the night.

Ryan smirked faintly without looking at him. His fingers drummed idly against his knee before he replied, "Too much excitement." He turned his head just enough to catch Nate's eye and added with a wry grin. "I mean, Caleb actually got stoned tonight. I might never recover from that."

Nate chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Yeah," he said, his tone laced with amusement and just a hint of disbelief. He took another sip from his glass before setting it down on the table beside Ryan's abandoned mezcal. "I just...thought I'd check on you."

Ryan raised an eyebrow at that, finally turning fully toward Nate. "Check on me?" He scoffed lightly but not unkindly, shaking his head as if dismissing the notion outright.

Nate didn't answer right away, at least not with words. Instead, he gave Ryan a knowing look that said more than words ever could. It wasn't mocking or judgmental. It was simply honest. "You're a lot of things, Ryan," Nate said at last, leaning back against the sofa with an easy confidence that only made his following words land harder. "Subtle isn't one of them."

Ryan rolled his eyes but let out a soft laugh despite himself. He didn't argue because he knew Nate was right. He always was when reading him like an open book. His fingers resumed their aimless tracing along his legs as something quieter settled over him, a vulnerability he rarely allowed himself to feel. Much less around Nate.

Silence followed before Ryan's soft voice broke. "I love him," he said suddenly, softly, as if testing how those words felt hanging between them.

Nate didn't react immediately, not visibly anyway, but when he spoke again after what felt like an eternity, it wasn't what Ryan had expected.

"I know," Nate said, yet so much was packed into those two words: understanding, acceptance, even encouragement. Ryan blinked at him, caught off guard by how easy Nate made it seem, how natural those words sounded coming from him when Ryan had spent weeks agonizing over saying them aloud even once. "I'm glad," Nate added after another beat of silence, and this time, there was no mistaking how genuine he sounded.

Ryan exhaled slowly as if releasing something he'd been holding onto for far too long, a tension buried deep within him, finally coming undone under Nate's quiet reassurance. He swallowed hard before speaking again. "I don't know what this is...but...I don't want to go through any of it without him."

Nate nodded thoughtfully at that, not dismissively but as though weighing those words carefully against whatever unspoken thoughts lingered behind his calm exterior. "Good," Nate said eventually, and this time, there was something heavier in his tone: something Ryan couldn't quite place but couldn't ignore either. "Because...Caleb's going to need that," Nate continued after another pause, his gaze now fixed firmly on some distant point beyond where the sea met the sky. "Your love."

Something about Nate's words sent a ripple through Ryan's chest, an almost imperceptible shift that felt like a stone skipping across the surface of still water, leaving behind uneasy ripples. Foreboding. That was the word for it, though Ryan hated how dramatic it sounded in his mind. His brow furrowed, and he shifted in his seat. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Ryan asked, his voice sharper than he intended. He turned his head toward Nate, eyes narrowing slightly as if to dissect every nuance of his friend's expression.

Nate didn't answer immediately. Instead, he leaned forward and set his glass down on the small wooden table between them with deliberate care. The condensation from his drink left a faint ring on the weathered surface, a fleeting mark of something that would evaporate and disappear before anyone could notice. He rubbed his palm over his jaw, a nervous gesture Ryan had come to recognize over the years, and exhaled slowly.

When Nate finally looked up, his eyes were different. Softer now. Warmer. Like embers glowing faintly after a fire had burned low. "I just…" Nate began, hesitating as if testing how much weight his words could carry without breaking. "I'm glad he has you." His voice dipped slightly, and after a beat that felt like it stretched far too long, he added. "And I'm glad I had you, too."

Ryan froze. His throat tightened almost instantly, making it hard to swallow. Something about how Nate said it made it feel heavier than it should have been like there was something else buried underneath those simple sentences, something Nate didn't want to or couldn't say outright.

Ryan forced a smirk onto his face like armor against whatever was trying to crawl its way into his chest. "Jesus, Nate," he said with a forced chuckle that came out weaker than he'd hoped. "You're making this weird."

Nate's laugh was softer this time, quieter, as if he knew Ryan's deflection for what it was but chose not to call him out on it. He shook his head lightly before shifting closer in his seat and reaching out to drape an arm around Ryan's shoulders. The gesture caught Ryan off guard. Physical affection wasn't exactly their thing, not like this, anyway. Ryan stiffened instinctively under Nate's touch, his muscles locking up as if bracing for something unknown. But Nate didn't pull away. Instead, he tightened his hold just slightly, a reassurance rather than restraint, and leaned in close. Then, unexpectedly, Nate pressed a firm kiss to the top of Ryan's head, lingering just long enough for it to feel intentional.

"Listen to me," Nate murmured against Ryan's hairline. "No matter what happens...." He paused briefly as if searching for the right words or perhaps gathering the courage to say them aloud. "You're my family. You always have been."

Ryan stared straight ahead at the stretch of ocean, its endless expanse suddenly feeling suffocating instead of freeing. His body remained tense beneath Nate's arm, every muscle coiled tight. He wouldn't let Nate see how his eyes burned from the weight of those words, words that felt more permanent than anything else ever had. He wouldn't let him see how his fingers curled into fists against the coarse fabric of his shorts. And he sure as hell wouldn't let him see the silent tears slipping unbidden down his cheek because he couldn't believe Nate would ever say anything like that to him.

For as long as Ryan could remember, love had always felt conditional, something earned through action, enactment, or sheer necessity. But sitting there on that deck with Nate's arm wrapped around him and those words hanging heavy between them like a lifeline tossed into deep waters, Ryan felt something unfamiliar and terrifyingly raw.

Nate's love.

 

*

The sun was still rising, its golden rays stretching lazily as they packed their bags and left the resort behind. Each step toward the car felt like shedding a layer of tranquility, slipping back into the world beyond the retreat's serene embrace. The engine purred, a low, steady hum breaking the early morning stillness.

The road ahead sprawled endlessly, ribbons of asphalt winding along the rugged coastline. To their right, the ocean stretched vast and glittering, its surface catching shards of sunlight that danced like diamonds on water. To their left, towering cliffs loomed, their jagged edges shadowed by early morning light. The contrast between the sea's calm expanse and the mountains' brooding presence was striking as if nature held its breath.

Inside the car, silence reigned. But it wasn't the kind of silence that pressed down with weight or tension. It wasn't awkward or suffocating. It simply existed, a quiet understanding shared among them, unspoken but deeply felt.

Caleb sat in the passenger seat, his knees drawn up as he cradled his book against them. The pages rustled softly as he turned them, his gaze skimming the words without urgency. His hair fell messily over his forehead, and he'd push it back absentmindedly occasionally with a faint sigh. Whatever emotion stirred within him, he kept it guarded and private.

In the backseat, Ryan sprawled lazily like a cat enjoying the last tendrils of morning sun. One leg stretched across the seat while the other rested on the floorboard. His head leaned against the window, eyes half-lidded as he watched the scenery blur past in streaks of gold and green. His fingers tapped rhythmically on his knee, a habitual beat more than anything else, his mind seemingly elsewhere.

And Nate.

Nate just drove. His hands gripped the wheel loosely. His posture was relaxed yet purposeful. His eyes focused on the road but carried an intensity that never fully abated. Behind those eyes lurked something deeper, something unspoken but ever-present. There was an ease in that moment, a rare kind of peace that felt fragile, like glass balanced on the edge of a table.

It was impossible not to feel it: that fleeting perfection.
But perfection can unsettle those who know how quickly it can shatter.

Nate's hands tightened on the wheel, knuckles shifting momentarily before he slightly eased off the gas pedal. His body language changed, not dramatically, but enough that Caleb's attention briefly flickered upward from his book before returning to the page.

Ryan noticed first. The change in speed was subtle but perceptible. After all, Ryan had spent years honing an instinct for noticing things others missed. He straightened slightly in his seat, his fingers halting mid-tap as his gaze slid toward Nate.

"Nate?" he asked softly, his tone curious but edged with caution.

Caleb's brows furrowed at Ryan's tone, which he recognized instantly as one born from uncertainty. He finally looked up properly this time. His emerald-green eyes followed Ryan's line of sight toward the road ahead.

And then he saw it.

Where the road curved gently before stretching out into another long straightaway, a blockade stood waiting, a row of sleek black cars aligned with military precision across both lanes of traffic. Their polished exteriors gleamed beneath the sun like dark mirrors reflecting menace itself. Caleb's stomach twisted into knots at once.

No one needed to say it out loud: this wasn't an accident.

Ryan leaned forward now. All pretense of relaxation evaporated from his posture as tension rippled through him like an electric current. "What is that?" he muttered sharply.

Caleb shot Nate a sharp look, desperate for reassurance, but Nate didn't flinch under his gaze. If anything, Nate seemed calm. Too calm.

The car slowed further as they approached the blockade.

Figures emerged clearer now. Men dressed impeccably in dark suits that fit too perfectly to be off-the-rack. Some stood casually leaning against their vehicles. Others stood rigidly upright with hands resting near weapons strapped conspicuously across their bodies. They weren't trying to hide their intent. They didn't need to. This wasn't an ambush born from desperation. This was control personified.

Ryan's voice dropped, now tinged with urgency rather than curiosity. "Nate…what do we do?"

Nate inhaled deeply through his nose before releasing it in a slow exhale that barely moved his chest. He rolled his shoulders back once, a subtle gesture, and finally answered, his voice solid and unwavering. "It's okay. I'll handle it," Nate replied, not dismissively but with such quiet conviction that neither Ryan nor Caleb could immediately argue further.

The car came to an unhurried stop several yards from where the blockade began.

Silence fell again. And then they moved, the men by the cars peeling away from their positions like predators circling prey.

The moment Nate stepped out of the car, the world seemed to hold its breath. As his boots hit the cracked asphalt, a dust cloud puffed beneath his feet. It was a blinding midday heat that made the horizon shimmer like molten glass, and yet Nate moved with steady purpose, his face unreadable beneath the sheen of sweat beginning to form.

Then they came. The men swarmed him like a pack of wolves, each move calculated, each step sharp. Hands shot out with brutal efficiency, clamping onto his arms and jerking him forward with enough force to make him stagger slightly. Dust stirred under their boots, curling into the air in dry spirals caught in Nate's throat. The cold gleam of polished metal glinted under the sun as rifles and pistols were raised, their barrels unwavering as they focused squarely on his chest.

Nate didn't flinch. His expression remained calm, almost detached as if he were assessing every detail, the position of their feet, the nervous flicker of their fingers hovering near triggers.

In the car, Caleb's heart pounded like a drumbeat in his ears. Each thud echoed through his ribcage, drowning out the oppressive silence outside. His palms were slick against his thighs as he stared through the windshield, watching helplessly. His fingers twitched toward the door handle, an instinctive urge to act warring against the icy grip of fear that rooted him in place.

"Do what he said," Ryan hissed from beside him. His hand shot out, clamping around Caleb's wrist with a firm and desperate grip. His jaw was clenched so tightly that Caleb thought he might crack a tooth. "Stay put."

Caleb yanked his arm free with a sharp jerk, his eyes blazing with defiance. "They're gonna kill him..." His voice cracked under the strain, rising above the suffocating quiet like a match struck in darkness.

Ryan's face darkened. "He said he'd handle it," he bit out.

Outside, Nate's voice broke. It was calm and steady, deliberate in its cadence as he spoke. Each word rolled off his tongue without hesitation, carrying an air of authority that demanded attention. "Non voglio problemi."

The men exchanged glances, their expressions a mixture of skepticism and disdain. One man scoffed audibly, a derisive sound that cut across Nate's words like a slap. Their leader stepped forward then, a thick-set man whose presence alone seemed to shift the dynamic. His eyes were hard and calculating as they bore into Nate. "Troppo tardi per quello," he said coldly.

The men surrounding Nate barked orders toward the car now, their voices sharp and guttural as they gestured wildly with their weapons. "Di’ ai ragazzi di uscire."

Nate's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. A muscle ticked below his temple as his gaze flickered toward Caleb and Ryan for a second. "No," he replied flatly, his voice devoid of emotion but brimming with defiance.

As he took another step closer, the leader's sneer twisted into something darker, a snarl more than a smile. "Ora!" he barked.

One of the gunmen moved then, stepping toward the car. He motioned sharply with his rifle toward Caleb and Ryan inside.

And that's when everything snapped.

Nate moved like lightning, no hesitation, no warning. In one fluid motion, he twisted out of their grasp with terrifying precision, his movements so fast they blurred against the static backdrop of heat and dust. His elbow shot back with brutal force, connecting with the nose of the man to his left. The sickening crack echoed through the stillness as blood sprayed into the air. Before anyone could react, Nate spun on his heel and hooked an arm around another man's wrist mid-motion, wrenching it upward with such force that the rifle clattered to the ground. In one seamless motion, Nate flipped the weapon into his own hands and slammed its butt into another assailant's temple. The man crumpled like paper beneath a hammer blow.

Three men hit the ground before they even realized what had happened.

The remaining gunmen froze where they stood, caught between fight and flight, as Nate turned on them with predatory grace. His breathing was heavy but measured as he leveled the rifle at their leader's head with unerring precision. The barrel pressed against scarred flesh.

In the car, Caleb sat frozen in place as if paralyzed by what he'd just witnessed. His wide eyes mirrored every ounce of chaos that had erupted before him, chaos that now seemed impossible to reconcile with Nate's calm demeanor moments earlier. Even Ryan looked shaken despite himself.

And then, a voice.

"Nathaniel."

It sliced through the tension, smooth yet impossibly sharp. It carried an unmistakable authority that sent ripples through everyone present. All heads turned toward one of the sleek black cars parked nearby as its door swung open, revealing Giorgio Taletti.

Dressed impeccably in a black suit that seemed impervious to dust or heat, Giorgio exuded power with every step he took toward them. Despite the oppressive heat, his hair was slicked back neatly, not a strand out of place. There was something unnervingly composed about him, something about how his sharp eyes swept over the scene without surprise or alarm. If anything, he looked amused.

"Sempre così teatrale..." he said. Nate didn't lower the gun. If anything, his grip tightened. "Lascia andare il ragazzo," Giorgio said smoothly and calmly, but there was no mistaking it for anything other than an order.

The silence stretched thin and taut between them until Giorgio finally exhaled, a slow and deliberate release of air that sounded almost like a sigh. He took one measured step forward, his polished heel clicking softly against the ground. "Out of all the boys I nurtured..." His voice was smooth, deep, and steady, an instrument finely tuned for command. "You were by far my biggest disappointment, Nathaniel."

The words landed heavily, but Nate's expression didn't falter. His jaw remained set like stone, his face impassive. And yet, just for a moment, there was a flicker in his eyes. A faint tremor.

Giorgio tilted his head slightly, studying Nate. Then he shook his head slowly, almost wistfully, as if what he found there truly pained him. "I gave you everything," he said, his voice softening slightly. "Purpose. Power. Respect." The corner of his lip twitched upward in what might have been a smirk but felt more like a sneer. "You were meant to be a king." He let the words hang in the air for effect before continuing, his tone growing sharper now. "And you threw it all away... for a child."

Nate didn't flinch at the accusation, but there was no denying the tension rippled through him, a tightening of his shoulders, a subtle shift in how he held himself. Still, he stayed silent.

Giorgio's eyes narrowed as he took another step closer, clasping his hands neatly behind his back like a professor about to deliver a harsh lesson. "Loyalty," he said with quiet venom. "Above all things...loyalty." His gaze bore into Nate like an iron brand searing flesh. "Without loyalty, you're nothing. Just another lost little boy pretending he can outrun fate."

Nate inhaled deeply through his nose, a slow and deliberate breath, but his voice was calm and steady when he finally spoke. "You always did like the sound of your own voice, old man," he said dryly.

The men surrounding them, Giorgio's enforcers, shifted uneasily at Nate's audacity, their hands twitching toward their weapons. But Giorgio raised one hand, a simple yet commanding gesture, and they froze instantly. "There's that tongue of yours," he murmured almost appreciatively before his expression darkened. "I knew," Giorgio continued slowly, drawing out each word with surgical precision, "The day you walked into my office asking to take the boy in...that sooner or later, you'd betray me."

Inside the car, Caleb stiffened at the mention of his name. His hands clenched into tight fists on his lap as he tried to steady his breathing, but each inhale came shorter than the last.

"You should've known better," Giorgio said softly, now, a tone so deceptively gentle it made the words even more cutting. "There's no running from this life, Nathaniel."

Then Nate spoke again, his voice lower now but no less firm. "Where's Victor?"

Giorgio hesitated for the first time since their exchange began, but only briefly. A slow smile spread across his face again, a cruel thing that didn't touch his eyes, and when he finally answered, there was almost a note of satisfaction in his tone. "Victor," he repeated as though savoring every syllable like fine wine before delivering the final blow. "...is resting comfortably...six feet under."

Ryan's breath caught sharply in his throat at those words.

"And Jenna?" Nate's voice was hoarse now, roughened by something raw.

Giorgio chuckled softly, devoid of warmth or mirth, and clicked his tongue disapprovingly like an indulgent parent scolding an errant child. "Come now, Nathaniel..." He shook his head slowly again before delivering another devastating truth. "You know where this is heading. The bitch is dead."

A weight crashed over Ryan's chest, not like a physical blow, but something far heavier, an emotional collapse that stole the breath from his lungs and left his ribs aching as if they'd been caved inward. Each beat of his heart felt like it was trying to break free from a cage too small to contain it.

His mother was dead.

Nate inhaled deeply through his nose, the air rattling slightly in his lungs as if even breathing took effort now. His jaw clenched tight enough to make the muscles along it jump, and his fingers flexed against the gun in his hands, not gripping it yet, but ready. Always ready.

"And Enzo?" Nate's voice came out low and measured, but there was a note beneath it, a tremor so faint you'd miss it if you weren't listening closely enough. He wasn't asking for information.

He was bracing for impact.

For the first time, Giorgio hesitated. It was subtle, just the briefest flicker in his expression, gone so quickly it could have been imagined, but Nate caught it. He saw how Giorgio exhaled slowly as if weighing his next words carefully. As if whatever he said next mattered more than anything else he'd ever uttered.

"Enzo...bought you a couple of hours," Giorgio said. "Unlike you," he said softly, "My son was weak. Not fit for this kind of life." He shook his head slightly and sighed, a slight sound that carried an edge of what might have been a disappointment. "Pity."

Nate's heart cracked open then, not like glass shattering but like an old wound tearing itself back apart after years of trying to heal. His mind raced with memories of Enzo. Memories that now felt tainted by a guilt he couldn't shake.

Giorgio stepped forward again, slowly closing the distance between himself and Nate. His voice softened almost imperceptibly as he spoke, a tone laced with something resembling regret but twisted into something far colder. "It pains me to do this, Nathaniel," he said quietly, tilting his head slightly as if studying Nate's reaction. "I had such high hopes for you." He paused, a heartbeat of silence that felt agonizingly long, before exhaling sharply through his nose. When he spoke again, his tone was final. "But this is the end of the line."

And then, a door creaked open behind them.
Caleb stepped out.

The entire world stilled around them.

Nate spun on instinct, pivoting toward the sound and dragging the man under his gun with him. "Caleb..." His voice cracked on the name.

But Caleb's gaze was locked on Giorgio now, unwavering. Then, a slight breeze stirred around them, ruffling Caleb's curls just enough to catch the sun's light behind him.

Giorgio's lips curved upward into an almost imperceptible smile, which might have been amusement, intrigue, or both at once. His voice was softer when he spoke again. "Ah," he murmured as if greeting an old friend instead of meeting someone for the first time. "So we finally meet."

Caleb tilted his chin ever so slightly, a subtle act of defiance that carried the weight of centuries of rebellion in its simplicity. He didn't tremble. He didn't blink. Every fiber of his being screamed strength, even as his pulse thundered in his ears. "Let him go," he uttered.

Giorgio exhaled slowly, an almost amused sound, as though Caleb's audacity was some private joke only he understood. The corners of his mouth twitched, not quite a smile, but close enough to send a chill down anyone's spine. "And why would I do that?" Giorgio drawled, his accent brushing over every syllable like velvet laced with steel.

Caleb didn't flinch under Giorgio's scrutiny. Instead, he stepped forward, not much, just enough for the movement to feel deliberate. "Because I'll take his place."

Even the armed men encircling them hesitated, their fingers frozen on triggers as if some invisible force had stilled their hands. The wind kicked up a swirl of dust around their boots before settling again.

Nate turned sharply toward Caleb. His voice broke through the silence like a gunshot. "Caleb, get inside that fucking car." It wasn't just anger in his tone. It was fear, raw and unfiltered. His words came fast and frantic, as though sheer volume could overpower Caleb's resolve.

"No." Caleb cut him off without turning to look at him. His voice was firm but quiet, almost too calm, making Nate stop short.

Caleb's focus stayed on Giorgio. "You want a legacy," Caleb said evenly, each word gauged as though he were laying cards on a table in the highest-stakes poker game imaginable. "You want someone to carry your empire into the future. Someone who can think. Someone who can lead." He took another step forward, slowly closing the gap between them.

Giorgio's expression remained inscrutable as he studied Caleb. There was something almost predatory in his gaze, a lion sizing up prey it hadn't yet decided whether to devour or toy with. "And you think..." Giorgio began slowly, voice dripping with condescension. "That I'd let Nathaniel walk away simply because you asked me to?"

Caleb's jaw tightened just slightly, a flicker of frustration quickly buried beneath layers of composure. "I think you're a businessman," he countered smoothly. "You make deals. You weigh options. You calculate risk." He let the words hang before delivering the final blow. "And I think you know keeping me is a far better investment than killing him."

Giorgio chuckled for the first time since their confrontation began, a low, rumbling sound that seemed to vibrate through the stillness around them. "You are," Giorgio said after a pause long enough to make everyone uncomfortable, "an impressive young man." Genuine admiration woven into his tone now, subtle but unmistakable, as he moved closer to Caleb and began circling him slowly like a hawk inspecting its next meal. "Smart. Fearless. Your father's son, no doubt." His lips curled into something resembling a smile but not quite reaching his eyes. "And more importantly…willing."

Caleb didn't move, not even when Giorgio's shadow fell over him completely as he passed behind him during his slow circle. He kept his posture rigidly straight, refusing to budge an inch. "You said yourself," Caleb pressed on carefully but firmly when Giorgio came back into view again. "You had high hopes for my father...you saw potential in him once." He paused briefly before lowering his voice slightly, just enough to make it feel personal but not weak: "You see it in me too… don't you?"

A flicker of something crossed Giorgio's face for a fraction of a second. Recognition? Approval? Whatever it was vanished almost immediately. "You think you could survive in my world?" he said, almost indulgently.

The words hung in the air like a challenge, sharp and deliberate. But Caleb didn't hesitate. He straightened his shoulders, his jaw tightening as he met Giorgio's gaze head-on with unwavering defiance. "I already have," Caleb replied firmly, the edge in his voice as adamant as steel.

For a moment, just a heartbeat, silence stretched between them. Then, a deep, resonant hum of approval vibrated through Giorgio's chest, reverberating like a low growl. "A remarkable young man, indeed," Giorgio murmured, the faintest trace of admiration coloring his otherwise detached tone. He paused for effect, letting the weight of his assessment sink in. "Anyone would be proud to have you by their side."

Caleb's heart gave an involuntary jolt at the unexpected praise. For a second, a single breath, he thought he'd won. That maybe, just maybe, he'd managed to sway the immovable will of the man before him.

But then Giorgio sighed.

It wasn't a frustrated or impatient sigh. It was measured, heavy with inevitability. "But you see, Caleb..." Giorgio's tone carried a quiet finality that chilled Caleb to his core. "A bargain was made years ago." The words landed like a blow, sharp and unforgiving. Caleb's stomach twisted violently as dread coiled around his ribs like iron chains. "You father's life for yours," Giorgio continued with an almost mournful shake of his head. "And I am, above all things...a man of my word."

Caleb's heart lurched painfully in his chest, each beat like a hammer against his ribcage. His throat tightened as panic clawed its way up from the pit of his stomach. "No." The word escaped him as barely more than a whisper, raw and desperate. He shook his head frantically, stepping forward as if closing the physical distance could somehow bridge the power gap between them.

Giorgio's gaze remained steady, cold yet calm. A calmness that stripped away any hope Caleb might have clung to. "Promises are sacred, young man. Trust is sacred." He leaned back again, folding his hands with meticulous precision. "And I cannot afford to set a precedent."

Behind Caleb came the sharp intake of breath, a sound that sliced through the suffocating silence like a blade.

Nate.

Slowly, reluctantly, Caleb turned to face him. For years, he had looked at Nate and seen one thing: a protector. A father figure who had shielded him from the worst of their brutal world time and time again. But now, there was no shield between them. Nate wasn't looking at him as a child who needed saving or even as his son. He was looking at him as an equal. A man standing on the same precipice of sacrifice.

Nate closed his eyes.
And lowered the gun.

Caleb's scream tore through, a raw, visceral sound from somewhere deep and primal, a place words couldn't reach. It wasn't just a scream. It was anguish made audible, the kind of cry that cracked something inside everyone who heard it.

"NO!" Caleb's voice broke apart as he staggered forward, his body propelled by an instinct he couldn't control.

Standing like an indifferent monarch surveying a battlefield, Giorgio barely flinched before turning his head slightly toward his men. He gave the order with a single flick of his fingers, a casual wave that somehow carried the weight of finality. The cars blocking Nate's vehicle began to lurch forward, each shifting inch by inch until they formed a narrow passage.

Caleb didn't think. He couldn't.

His legs moved before his mind could catch up, carrying him straight toward Nate with reckless momentum. His hands hit Nate's chest hard, fists pounding against him with every ounce of strength he had left. "Fuck you!" he choked out, his voice breaking as his blows landed again and again. "What the fuck are you doing?"

Nate stood there like a statue carved from sorrow itself. He didn't move. He didn't flinch. His arms hung at his sides, heavy and lifeless as if they bore the full weight of Caleb's pain. Each hit seemed to reverberate through him, not physically but emotionally, absorbing the storm of grief without protest.

Then, his eyes swerved toward the car.

Ryan was standing beside the car. Ryan's blue eyes locked onto Nate's, and in that brief second, an entire conversation passed between them without a single word.

Thank you.
I'm sorry.
Take care of him.

Ryan's lips pressed into a thin line as his jaw clenched tightly. He gave a slight nod, barely more than a twitch, but it carried a promise etched in steel. Then he turned away and ducked into the driver's seat without another glance back.

But Caleb wasn't done fighting.

"You can't do this!" Caleb's voice cracked under desperation as he clung to Nate's shirt like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to reality. His knees buckled, and he collapsed against Nate's chest, trembling uncontrollably as fresh tears streamed down his face. "I can't live without you," he sobbed, his words muffled against Nate's shirt but no less heart-wrenching.

Nate closed his eyes, exhaling slowly through his nose. His hands twitched at his sides before finally rising, firm with purpose, as they came to rest against Caleb's face. He cupped Caleb's cheeks gently, almost reverently, his thumbs brushing away endless tears. "Shhh… it's okay," Nate whispered, his voice low and steady despite the tremor beneath it. His fingers combed through Caleb's hair with slow motions meant to soothe even as everything around them fractured into chaos. "This is the only way."

Caleb shook his head violently, fresh sobs wracking his body as he gripped Nate's shirt tighter. "No…" His voice had shrunk to a whimper now, fragile and broken like glass on the verge of shattering completely.

Nate pressed their foreheads together, closing his eyes as though he could will some of his strength into Caleb through sheer proximity. "The only way for you to have a normal life," he murmured softly, each word carrying love and devastation in equal measure. "The life you deserve."

Caleb froze for a moment before shaking harder than ever. "You're my normal," he cried, his voice raw and ragged as he looked up into Nate's face with wide emerald eyes drowning in pain. "You said you'd always be there...You promised."

And that's when Nate's arms tightened around Caleb for one fleeting second, a silent apology wrapped in an embrace before he leaned closer to whisper in Caleb's ear.

And then, he sang.

His voice cracked on the first note but found its rhythm quickly enough, soft and broken yet familiar.

"Buenas noches mi amor
Cierra bien tus ojitos
Que la noche viene ya
Su canción te arrullará

Al dormir estarás entre nubes y flores
Que te invitan a soñar con su voz primaveral
Con un rayo de luz
La mañana estiba

Tan radiante y azul
En tu cuarto te esperará
Buenas noches mi amor
Con la música blanca

De la noche celestial
Duerme ya feliz en paz
Su canción es la voz
De la luna plateada

Luna buena, luna fiel
Que por ti brillando está
En sus alas de luz
Como un ángel de plata
por la aurora boreal tu carita se asomará
Duerme ya."

Caleb sagged against him completely as every sob tapered off into quiet hiccups. He melted into Nate's chest like when he was little, a child seeking refuge in the only shelter that had ever truly felt safe.

"I love you, kiddo," Nate whispered when the song ended, his voice barely more than a rasp holding back tears that threatened to spill over.

Caleb tilted his face upward again, fresh tears cutting tracks down already-streaked cheeks as he looked at Nate with something close to helplessness. "What am I gonna do without you?"

Nate pulled back just enough to fully meet Caleb's gaze as he cupped his face again with both hands. His smile was beautiful yet sorrowful, "Live," Nate said firmly, pouring every ounce of love into that single word. "Live for both of us."

And then he leaned down and kissed Caleb's forehead, long enough to say everything else he couldn't put into words but short enough not to let himself linger too long.

The moment shattered when Giorgio's men surged forward like shadows given form. They grabbed Nate roughly by both arms and began dragging him away even as Caleb screamed again, his body twisting violently against invisible chains holding him back.

"Dad!" Caleb howled, reaching out desperately.

Just like he had dreamed.
For countless nights.

"Caleb!" Ryan's voice cut through like a whip crack from inside the car where he now sat behind the wheel. "Get in! Now!"

Caleb hesitated for one agonizing second before something inside him broke entirely, not just cracked but shattered beyond repair, and somehow, he moved. Each step felt like walking underwater until he finally stumbled into the car alongside Ryan. The tires screeched as Ryan floored it without waiting for another second.

The car rolled forward slowly. Too slow.

Caleb wanted to look back.
He needed to.

The pull was magnetic and instinctual, a desperate urge to see Nate one last time. To confirm that he was still there, still whole, still alive. But then, Ryan's voice cut through like a blade slicing clean through the glass.

"Don't." The words were sharp but steady, leaving no room for argument. They pierced the thick fog in Caleb's mind, snapping him back into the suffocating present. His neck jerked forward as if yanked by an invisible thread, his breath catching in his throat like a fish caught on a cruel hook. "Look at me." Ryan's voice softened, but it didn't waver. There was steel beneath the velvet, a command wrapped in care. "Caleb, look at me."

Slowly, reluctantly, Caleb obeyed.

And then it happened.

The sound shattered like glass dropped from a great height.
Gunfire. Loud and brutal and merciless.

One shot rang out, a sharp crack that echoed across the cliffs.
Then another.
And another.

Three shots in total, each one louder than the last, until they seemed to reverberate inside Caleb's skull like cannon fire. His body seized involuntarily at each crack of gunpowder splitting open the air, his muscles locking up as if trying to shield him from an impact that never came.

Then, a barrage of bullets followed, an eruption so violent it drowned out everything around them. The sound was relentless, mechanical, and devoid of humanity, mercy, or anything resembling restraint.

And then, silence.

Not gradual or fading, but sudden and absolute, as if someone had flipped a switch and snuffed out every sound.

Ryan's hand tightened on the wheel again as he pressed harder on the gas pedal without saying a word. The car leaped forward faster, recklessly eating up the road ahead as they drove away.

Behind them, Giorgio carefully adjusted his tie as he turned toward his men. "What a waste," he said flatly, as though commenting on spilled wine rather than spilled blood. He sighed heavily before flicking his wrist in a gesture that spoke volumes without needing words. "Clean this mess up," he added briskly before sliding into his car effortlessly. "We're done here."

His men moved quickly and efficiently, like shadows sweeping over the pavement as engines roared back to life around them.

The world moved on.

*

The rhythmic clink of the fuel pump echoed through the stillness. Ryan stood beside the car. His arms rested on the pump as if it bore the weight of something much heavier than gasoline. He exhaled slowly, his breath visible in the chilly air, before running a hand through his messy hair. The motion was instinctive as if he was trying to brush away his hair and whatever gnawed at him from within.

Inside the car, Caleb sat motionless in the passenger seat. His emerald-green eyes stared through the windshield, unfocused, seeing nothing but a void that stretched infinitely before him. The faint light from the gas station crept into the car, casting shadows across his face. Those shadows seemed to deepen the tear tracks etched into his skin, tracks he hadn't bothered to wipe away. Maybe he couldn't bring himself to. Maybe it felt like wiping them would erase too much, like letting go of something he wasn't ready to lose.

Ryan glanced toward him from outside, his jaw tightening before he tapped lightly on the car roof, a gesture that might've been meant as reassurance or a reminder that he was there. Without a word, he turned and headed toward the station to pay.

The silence inside the car grew louder in Ryan's absence, thickening until it felt almost alive. It swallowed Caleb whole, wrapping around him like a suffocating blanket. His chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, each one more labored than the last, as if even breathing had become an effort too great to bear.

His fingers twitched once, a subtle movement, but it was enough to break his stillness. Slowly, his eyes began to roam over the interior of the car. They moved aimlessly at first, taking in small details: the curve of the steering wheel worn smooth from years of use, the faint layer of dust collecting along the edge of the console where no one ever bothered to clean, and the smudge on the passenger window where his forehead had once rested during a long drive.

Then his gaze stopped.

The glove compartment.

He blinked once, twice, as if unsure whether he should reach for it. But before he could think too much about it, his hand moved independently. His fingers wrapped around the handle and pulled it open with a soft click. The small door swung down, revealing its contents: an old map folded haphazardly, a stray pen missing its cap, and a book.

His book.
"A Boy's Own Story."

It was scuffed and worn at the edges from being handled so many times, its spine slightly bent from countless hours spent reading and rereading its words. This wasn't just any book. It was the book. The one he'd read aloud to Nate back at the cabin after they made love for the first time.

His hands trembled as he picked it up, cradling it like something fragile and irreplaceable. He ran his fingers over its surface slowly, feeling every crease and imperfection beneath his touch. For a brief moment, just a fleeting second, the familiar smell of paper and ink pulled him out of his grief and grounded him in something real.

But then something slipped free from between its pages, a small piece of paper folded neatly in half. It fluttered downward like a leaf falling from a tree before landing softly on his lap.

Caleb froze.

His stomach twisted into knots as he stared at it. Slowly, painfully, with trembling fingers, he reached down and unfolded it. His breath hitched audibly when he saw what was written there.

Nate's handwriting. It was messy but deliberate, each letter etched with care despite their uneven slant.

"When the father dies, how can his ghost get warm except in a posthumous embrace? For that matter, how does the surviving son ever get warm again?"

Caleb's throat tightened painfully as he reread the exact words he had read aloud to Nate not long ago. Beneath them was an account number scrawled hastily yet legible enough to decipher.

And below that, the account holder.

CALEB CARTER.

The simple sight of his name written in Nate's unmistakable hand shattered something inside him and mended something all at once. Tears blurred his vision until everything became little more than indistinct shapes bathed in neon light. Nate had left him something, not just money or possessions, but something more significant.

A legacy wrapped in love and devotion that reached beyond death itself.

The sound of the car door opening jolted Caleb from his reverie. Ryan slid into the driver's seat but froze mid-motion when his sharp blue eyes landed on Caleb's face and then on what Caleb held in his hands. Still clutching the note tightly against his chest like a lifeline, Caleb managed to glance at Ryan through tear-filled eyes. His lips parted slightly as if to say anything, but no words came out.

Ryan broke the silence, his words soft and gentle. "Ready?"

Caleb didn't answer right away. Instead, he turned toward the windshield again, the endless stretch of road ahead illuminated faintly by their headlights, and released a shaky breath.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he nodded.

 

*

 

(20 years later)

"Are you fucking blind, ref?" Ryan's voice broke through the crowd.

The voice erupted like a cannon blast, booming above the rest of the noise. It wasn't just loud but raw with indignation and laced with enough venom to make heads swivel. A few nearby parents turned toward the source of the outburst, their expressions ranging from mild amusement to outright disapproval.

On the sidelines, Ryan sat on the weathered wooden bench, his arms folded tightly across his chest as if bracing himself against an invisible opponent. His body leaned forward slightly, tension coiling in his frame. Once lean and razor-sharp in his prime, time had softened him, his belly rounded ever so slightly under his navy sweatshirt, and his jawline bore the evidence of middle age beneath a scruffy beard streaked with silver. Yet despite these changes, there was something undeniably vital about him. His ocean-blue eyes burned with a fire that refused to dim, their intensity undiminished by the years etched into his face. His raven-black hair was now peppered with gray, giving him a rugged charm that might have been endearing if not for the scowl tugging at his lips.

"Ryan," came a voice beside him, calm but firm. Caleb reached out, his long fingers wrapping lightly around Ryan's arm as he gave it a subtle but insistent tug. "Sit down before they throw you out again."

Ryan resisted momentarily, his jaw tightening in defiance as he glared at the referee on the field. "I'm just saying," he shot back, his voice dropping to a growl that still carried an edge of frustration. "That's the second time he's been knocked down and nothing? This mother fucker is getting on my nerves."

Caleb sighed deeply and shook his head, the kind of exasperated gesture that only years of familiarity could evoke. "And I'm saying," he replied evenly, his tone laced with quiet authority, "this is a kids' game. Not the World Cup."

Ryan muttered something unintelligible under his breath but allowed himself to be pulled back onto the bench. He crossed his arms again, sulking like a reprimanded teenager rather than a man hitting his forties. Caleb watched him briefly before returning to the field, his expression softening.

Unlike Ryan, Caleb had aged with remarkable grace, a quiet elegance that seemed almost unfairly effortless. Gone was the boyish beauty that had once defined him. In its place was something deeper, more striking. His emerald-green eyes still sparkled with an intensity that spoke of wisdom, though faint lines now crinkled at their corners. His hair had darkened slightly with age but retained its warmth, catching hints of sunlight as he shifted on the bench. Where Ryan exuded fire and chaos, Caleb emanated calm strength, a man who had weathered storms and emerged not unscathed but undeniably whole.

"Unbelievable," Ryan muttered again under his breath. "I'm talking to him after this game."

Caleb didn't bother responding this time. He arched an eyebrow and sighed, already imagining the inevitable confrontation that would follow. But before he could dwell too long on how to contain Ryan's temper or whether it was even worth trying, his attention was caught by movement on the field.

There was a boy standing near midfield with his shoulders hunched and fists clenched at his sides. He was barely ten but held himself with a tension far beyond his years. His dark curls were wild and untamed, falling into eyes that mirrored Ryan's piercing blue gaze but carried Caleb's sharp cheekbones. He was strikingly familiar, a living echo of Caleb's youth, but there was no mistaking where he got that simmering fire.

Caleb cupped his hands around his mouth and called out across the field. "Hey!" The boy turned sharply at Caleb's voice, frustration etched into every line of his young face. Without hesitation, he jogged over to where Caleb stood, waiting at the edge of the sideline. Caleb crouched slightly to meet the boy at eye level, resting one hand lightly on his shoulder while studying him carefully. "What's going on?" he asked gently but firmly.

The boy huffed out a heavy breath through flared nostrils and crossed his arms over his chest in a gesture so reminiscent of Ryan that Caleb almost laughed. "Thomas," Nathaniel began, jerking his chin toward one of the opposing players on the field. "He's been all over me since we started! I can't get to my position and even go for the goal."

Caleb nodded slowly as he listened, taking in not just the boy's words but also his body language, the taut set of his shoulders, the way his hands twitched like they wanted to punch something but didn't dare. There was more here than just frustration. Beneath it all lurked doubt.

"And?" Caleb prompted after a beat, tilting his head slightly as if coaxing an answer out of him.

The boy's jaw clenched visibly before he spat his reply through gritted teeth. "And I can't do anything about it!"

The words hung between them like a challenge or perhaps an admission, and for a moment, Caleb said nothing. He simply looked at Nathaniel with those steady green eyes that seemed to see everything all at once. "You're letting him get inside your head," Caleb said finally, his voice calm but laced with an edge that made the child pause.

The boy's frustration boiled over then. He threw up his hands in exasperation before turning abruptly as if to walk away from both Caleb and whatever advice he thought was coming next.

"Nathaniel Enzo Carter!" Caleb's voice rang out sharper now, not angry but commanding enough to stop the boy mid-step.

The name roared over the field, cutting through the crisp autumn air like a crack of thunder. Caleb's deep voice boomed with an intensity that stilled his son and the entire sideline. The boy, mid-sprint, froze as though the sheer force of his father's call had physically anchored him in place. The soccer ball rolled lazily away, forgotten momentarily, as Nathaniel turned his head toward the source. A few parents on the sidelines exchanged startled glances, some murmuring to each other.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, the boy trudged back toward Caleb, his cleats crunching over the damp grass. His shoulders hung low, and his flushed face betrayed a swirl of emotions, embarrassment, frustration, and perhaps a flicker of shame. Caleb was already walking toward him, meeting him halfway across the field. He knelt down, his knees pressing into the cool earth as he placed himself at eye-level with his son. His expression softened as Nathaniel stopped a foot away, close enough that Caleb could see the faint sheen of sweat on his brow and how his lower lip trembled ever so slightly.

"Hey," Caleb said quietly, his voice now steady but far gentler than before. He reached out and cupped Nathaniel's chin with one broad hand, tilting the boy's face upward until their eyes met. Caleb's gaze was firm but warm, carrying none of the anger Nathaniel had feared. "You listen to me," Caleb began, his voice lowering to an intimate murmur meant only for his son. "Do you know why we named you Nathaniel?"

The boy blinked up at him. He opened his mouth as if to answer but closed it again, unsure what to say.

Caleb smiled faintly and looked his son straight into his blue eyes. "You were named after the man who raised me," he said, his thumb brushing gently against Nathaniel's chin before letting go. The boy's lips parted slightly, and something in his expression shifted, a curiosity ignited by this glimpse into a part of his father's life he'd never known. "And he was...the bravest person I ever met," Caleb continued, his eyes glistening now, though he refused to let them brim over. "He taught me what it means to stand tall when things get tough. To never give up." He leaned in closer, his voice dropping even lower as if sharing a secret meant only for Nathaniel's ears. "I see that same fire in you."

The boy's breath hitched at those words, simple but powerful, and for a moment, all the noise of the game around them seemed to fade away.

Caleb straightened slightly but kept one hand resting on Nathaniel's shoulder. "Now," he said firmly but not unkindly, "I want you to man up. Get back out there on that field and show me, and everyone else, what you're made of." A flicker of doubt passed over Nathaniel's face before something else took its place: determination. His father's words had lit a fire in him that chased away the lingering shadows of fear and hesitation. "Can you do that for me?" Caleb asked with a slight smirk, tugging at one corner of his mouth.

Nathaniel nodded once, then twice more emphatically as a grin broke across his face, tentative but growing wider with each passing second.

"That's my boy," Caleb said with a chuckle as he ruffled Nathaniel's hair before standing up again. "Now go."

Without another word, Nathaniel turned on his heel and bolted back toward the field with renewed energy. His cleats now struck the ground purposefully, each step more confident than the last. Caleb watched him go before turning and returning to the bench where Ryan sat waiting. Ryan raised an eyebrow as Caleb plopped down beside him.

"So?" Ryan asked casually, though his tone had a note of genuine curiosity.

Caleb leaned back against the bench with an air of quiet satisfaction. "Just wait," he said cryptically, a knowing smirk on his lips.

Moments later, the referee blew the whistle, signaling the game to resume. The ball was back in motion, rolling smoothly across the field as players scrambled for control. Nathaniel moved differently, this time like a shadow cutting through light. He darted around opponents with an agility that belied his small frame, weaving through defenders as though they were no more than obstacles in an obstacle course he'd mastered long ago.

"Go, go, go," Ryan muttered, leaning forward slightly. Caleb didn't respond. He watched with quiet pride as Nathaniel approached the goal with single-minded focus.

And then it happened.
The shot.

The ball left Nathaniel's foot with precision and power, rocketing through the air in a perfect arc. Time seemed to hang suspended for a split second as every eye followed its trajectory. When it hit the back of the net with a satisfying thud, the crowd exploded with sound, a collective roar of triumph that echoed across the field.

"GOAL!" someone shouted from the sidelines.

Ryan shot up from the bench like a spring uncoiling, fists pumping wildly in celebration. "Yes!" he bellowed at full volume. "That's my boy!"

On the field, Nathaniel turned toward the sideline with a wide grin that threatened to split his face in two. Before he could react, Ryan was already charging onto the field like an overexcited puppy let off its leash, scooping Nathaniel up and hoisting him onto his shoulders without breaking stride. Nathaniel laughed, a pure and unrestrained sound, as he stretched his arms out like wings while Ryan paraded him around triumphantly.

Perched on his bench seat, Caleb took in the scene before him, a warm glow enveloping him from the inside out. His heart swelled with each exuberant cheer from Ryan and every bright smile that lit up Nathaniel's face.

"You did it, kiddo," Caleb murmured under his breath as a slow, proud smile took hold of him.

THE END

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