Goldilocks and His Three Bears by AM Riley

grinned. “You cooking?”
    In the kitchen, they found Jim alone making eggs.
    He was clothed only in boxers and there were scratches all over his back. His beard and hair were wild. He looked like he'd crawled out of his cave, thought Brian, sidling up to him. He buried his nose in his Momma Bear's arm and inhaled. Jim smelled like Scott.
    “Hi, Brian.” Jim's eyes were as soft as warm maple syrup, his voice a happy rumble.
    There was a thump from his bedroom. “What the hell is taking so long?” Scott's voice called out.
    “Be quiet,” Jim called back happily. He relinquished Brian, picked up two plates, and headed back toward his bedroom. “Or I'll put the gag back on.”
    As Jim disappeared through the bedroom door, Brian turned wide eyes on Paul. “Gag?” he squeaked.
    Paul laughed. “I have fresh salmon here,” he said, bringing a package out from the refrigerator. “And asparagus.” At the expression on Brian's face, he continued, “Green doesn't automatically mean poison, honey. You'll like it.”
    “Okay,” said Brian, distracted and blinking at the door through which Jim had exited.
    As Paul cooked, Brian hovered about until finally Paul frowned at him. “Sit down, Brian. What's wrong with you?”
    “You aren't going to want to... gag me, are you?” asked Brian worriedly.
    Paul stared. He put down what he was holding and came to Brian, held him, kissed him, pushed his hair back from his face. “Brian, have we ever done anything you didn't want to do?”
    Brian studied him, brows serious. “No... ”
    “And we never will. You promised me you'd tell me if something bothered you, Brian. I am counting on you to do that. Do you understand?”
    Brian nodded, eyes wide and solemn as a choirboy's. “Yes, sir.” A flick of his lashes, and the innocence turned a little saucy.
    Paul gripped him tighter and rumbled a little in his chest. “You keep looking at me like that, we aren't ever going to eat.”
    Brian made his lips tip up in a tiny provocative smile. “Yes, sir. I'm... sorry... Daddy.” The last whispered.
    Paul growled and dived down to devour his mouth. When they broke away, Brian felt ravaged and flushed and very satisfied with himself.
    “Brat,” said Paul, giving his bottom a little slap. “Eat your dinner.”
    “That's good.” Scott watched Jim scoop another bit of egg up from the plate and eat it. “What'd you put in it?”
    “Peppers.” Jim offered another bite to Scott, who opened his mouth dutifully and lapped it up. Scott was propped comfortably on two pillows, his wrists securely tied to the headboard, a napkin arranged across his naked lap. He chewed at the eggs contentedly, swallowed.
    “Can I have some more of that tomato juice?”
    Jim stirred the juice with the celery and held the straw so Scott could catch it between his lips. “How's your eye?”
    “Still stings a little, but not bad.”
    “We'll have fish tomorrow. The oils and A will help you heal.”
    “Thanks.”
    “I'm going to untie you so you can sleep now. But I'd like you to stay here with me tonight.”
    Scott nodded, eyes wide. Jim captured Scott's head with one big hand and gently brushed the fuzz of short hairs at the nape.
    “No more getting yourself beat up.”
    “I didn't,” protested Scott immediately. “You should have seen the other guy.”
    “I thank God I didn't,” said Jim honestly. “I don't know what I might have done to him.”
    Scott blinked. One of his unbound hands moved restlessly on the bed beside him until Jim captured it in his own. “Do I need to tie you up again?”
    Scott shook his head slowly. “No. Not... at least not now.”
    “Good.” Jim leaned forward and kissed him. With only an inch between their lips, he whispered, “And you're not going to the Faultline anytime soon.”
    Scott blinked again. “What? I'm grounded?”
    “Something like that.” Jim watched him, waiting. He saw Scott absorb this. Easily, smoothly. Like earth absorbing rainwater.
    “You