Sub-Culture by Sage Marlowe

Author:Sage Marlowe [Marlowe, Sage]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Published: 2012-12-09T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

“So, how are things between you and my favourite brother-in-law?” Francis asked in a light-hearted tone as he poured Pierce a glass of wine.

Pierce let out a non-committal snort and took a rather large gulp. The two didn’t really go together, and some of the wine went down his windpipe. Although he managed not to choke on it, the resulting little cough that slipped out of his burning throat didn’t escape Francis’ attention.

“That good, huh?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Pierce admitted. “Maybe you should ask Shae that.”

Francis’ eyebrows went up a notch. “Why Shae?”

“Because he seems to be seeing a lot more of Noah recently than I do. At least I hope it’s Shae who Noah’s spending his time with.”

“Ah, I see.” A knowing smile on his face, Francis nodded compassionately. “Jealous, are you?”

“Yes. Yes, I am jealous.”

“Pie, sweetheart, they’re friends. And sometimes a friend is the most important person in a man’s life.”

“More important than the man he lives with? More important than his husband?”

“Yes.” Francis made the statement without batting an eyelid. “Noah is an exceptional man, Pierce. We both know that. But he is a man. Don’t forget that. He’s got his faults and weaknesses, just like everybody else. Don’t deny him that.”

“I’m not denying him that. But… I wish he’d just talk to me about whatever is bugging him, not spend his time talking to Shae about it. If that really is what he’s been doing lately.”

“Sometimes the ones we are closest to are not the ones we can confide our deepest secrets in,” Francis said.

Pierce glared at him. “Oh, you’re so fucking sage, aren’t you? I know that and, believe it or not, I’m absolutely okay with him and Shae doing their thing together, I—”

“Funny how you don’t sound like it at all.”

“I am okay with it,” Pierce insisted. “I just want to know what’s going on inside that fucking mulish Irish head of his. He used to be able to talk to me, but recently it’s like—”

“Like what?” Francis pressed but Pierce found that he couldn’t finish the sentence. Soft, but strong fingers closed around his. Fingers used to swinging a whip or paddle for minutes on end, Pierce thought irrationally. So efficient in dealing out pain and yet so capable of bringing comfort with the gentleness of their touch. In a way, it was characteristic of Francis himself. He knew how to inflict excruciating physical pain on a willing sub, but could just as well soothe the aches of a soul in distress.

“Like when you started going out, you mean?” he said, once again proving his unerring talent of knowing precisely what was going on inside his brother’s head.

“Yes,” Pierce whispered, feeling dreadful.

“And what do you think is his reason for that?”

“I don’t know.”

“I see. Well, it’s not that bad then, is it? After all, what you don’t know can’t hurt you, can it?”

“Francis, you’re an evil old bugger.” Pierce groaned. “You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t,” Francis objected. “Because you’re not telling me.

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