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Tales told - a.k.a free reads > May 2014 Creative Writing prompt M/M/M - Stories

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message 1: by Kaje (last edited Jul 06, 2014 12:08PM) (new)

Kaje Harper | 16460 comments We have our winner for May:



Please post or link your creative writing of any type, length or variety. Just remember we are YA.

Let the fun begin...

Stories:
Jay D part 1
JayD part 2
Jay D part 3
JayD part 4
Kaje
Julia


message 2: by Kaje (new)

Kaje Harper | 16460 comments ** Three **

When Fate lifts her sword
Perhaps answers can be found
In three minds, three hearts


message 3: by Riina (new)

Riina Y.T. (ibxxxriina) | 469 comments Aww lovely ! :)
Look at them boys <3


message 4: by Jay (last edited May 10, 2014 02:13AM) (new)

Jay Clark (jaydclark) | 488 comments A Therianthropic Threesome: Part 1--Two Parts of Three

The power of three ruled my world within the world. There were three Tribes of Therianthropes: the Nephs, the Lobos and the Dolphs. There were three morphs: Human, Blend and Beast. There were three psi-powers: Telepathy, Telekinesis and Teleportation. There were three levels of psi-talent: Gamma, Beta and Alpha. There were three levels psi-training: Apprentice, Journeyman and Master. There were three psi-domains: Air, Land and Sea. There were threes in every aspect of our lives. The list was long and thought all-inclusive until there came we three to unite and divide all threes.

Trace Trueblood was trouble from the moment I first laid eyes on him in high school. Like many of our local Lobos, he looked vaguely Latino or Native American in human morph. He was tall, built, chiseled and every inch a total stud and knew it. The moment our eyes met we both knew that we would either be best of friends or the worst of enemies.

Trace's chiseled torso filled of those tight sleeveless shirts with a buttoned placket, banded collar and deep arm holes. His Wranglers highlighted his powerful ass, thighs, and man pack. His well-worn cowboy boots gave his ass just enough wiggle as he walked to make gay jocks like me very thirsty for his company. Dating between Tribes was forbidden in male-female relationships, but not in same gender ones. For me, he was hot and fair game.

I stepped out from my knot of friends, several of whom were also gay, as he passed in the hall and said, "Hello, Trouble. Did someone stray a bit too far from the kennel?"

Trace grinned at me and said, "Albacore, Albacore, who's your friend for ever more?"

"Cute," I grinned back.

"That's what the mirror tells me," Trace agreed.

"And your mirror does not lie," I assured him, "but I was being a bit sarcastic about your sense of humor."

"Ease up on the dog jokes and I will ease up on the fishy ones," he suggested.

"Truce?" I asked.

"Truce, for now," he said. "You can be as hands on as you like when we go on our first date, blonde boy."

"If we have a first date, you can count on me being more than just hands on, cinnamon stick," I assured him. "Guys I date have to be more than just eye candy."

"My thought exactly," Trace agreed. "Although you are easy on the eyes. Got a name to go with that pretty face?"

"Troy Evans," I told him. "And you are Trace Trueblood. I am your official welcome wagon. I have your class schedule, your locker number, your combination and instructions to show you around."

"You can show me around as long as I can have the chance to show you a good time, come Friday night," Trace told me. "Otherwise, I can take the tour solo."

"That is so not how things are getting sorted out between us," I assured him. "Consider yourself to be auditioning to be my arm candy for a first day while we take the tour. No tour, no chance ever of dating me."

"I don't do ultimatums, Troy boy," Trace told me, "So just hand me the paperwork and I'll start my own tour."

"You can show me you are man enough to take it from me," I told him, folding the papers and thrusting them tauntingly into the front pocket of my jeans. "You get it out, we'll do things your way; if not, we do them mine."

Bad boy Trace leaned in as if to honor me with a kiss and instead brought his knee up to get me in the balls. I resisted grabbing my crotch and grabbed him by the arms instead. Balls ablaze with pain, I was simply not letting him get his hand in that pocket. Aside from swimming, I wrestled and knew how to manage pain better than most. But Trace was also a grappler and he countered nearly every move to take him down until I double-winged him and kicked his legs out from under him. We went down hard together, me landing right on top of him. I pinned his arm back, leaned into him and kissed him full on the lips.

After we finally ended our first kiss, I told him, "You lose."

Trace, however, simply opened up the hand of the arm I had pinned down to show me he had the paperwork crumpled against his palm. "Just to make sure there are no hard feelings, you can pick the restaurant and the movie afterward."

"Surprise me," I smirked at him, enjoying contact with him, "just so long as I have reason to feel hard by dating you."

There already is, Troy-boy, Trace silently assured me.

I suddenly could feel his reaction to me as strongly as my own reaction to him and the sensation startled me. I did not let go of him or get up, but clung to him.

We should not be so quickly and completely connected like this, I silently told him.

We are not as completely connected as I would like to be, Trace told me. As for this, we are both psi-talent alphas or we would not, could not connect like this.

I did not tell him that I had been rated a beta in telepathy. Ratings change and we were clearly communicating on an alpha range. And it could also just be that we enhanced one another, but that had other implications I was not yet ready to think about.

We eventually got up from the floor, shared another kiss after making sure no adult eyes were on us and I led him on our tour. However, Trace kept my hand in his the whole time, ignoring all stares at us. It was obvious that he had already claimed me as his in his mind, at least. But my mind was full of all the reasons a Dolph and a Lobo could never be life mates, even if being gay actually made it allowable.

Did he hate to swim as much as I hated to run? Either way, he could never out-swim me in-tail and I could never out-run him when he was down on all four. It just would not, could not work beyond a casual fling. Or could it?

The moment of truth came when our tour ended and he finally let go of my hand. I suddenly felt just how much I would miss the touch of his hand and his mind until I felt both again.


message 5: by Destin (new)

Destin Hicks (dhicks) | 48 comments Oh yeah... wait until I contribute... I might be inappropriate, though. ;)


message 6: by Destin (new)

Destin Hicks (dhicks) | 48 comments Find me on Protagonize. I mean, seriously - I'm writing some good things there. We can work together on stuff! It's awesome!


message 7: by Jay (new)

Jay Clark (jaydclark) | 488 comments Jay D. wrote: "A Therianthropic Threesome: Part 1--Two Parts of Three

The power of three ruled my world within the world. There were three Tribes of Therianthropes: the Nephs, the Lobos and the Dolphs. There wer..."


I had to rewrite how this part ends before going onto write some more. I hope it now helps folks to want to read more.


message 8: by Kaje (new)

Kaje Harper | 16460 comments Jay D. wrote: "Jay D. wrote: "A Therianthropic Threesome: Part 1--Two Parts of Three

The power of three ruled my world within the world. There were three Tribes of Therianthropes: the Nephs, the Lobos and the Do..."


Well, I certainly want to read more :)


message 9: by Kaje (new)

Kaje Harper | 16460 comments Destin wrote: "Oh yeah... wait until I contribute... I might be inappropriate, though. ;)"

Just do keep it YA; these are open threads with readers as young as 13. Otherwise, have fun!


message 10: by Jay (last edited May 24, 2014 07:15PM) (new)

Jay Clark (jaydclark) | 488 comments A Therianthropic Threesome: Part 2--Connections and Confusion

The Rule of Three was so strong among us that polyandry and polygamy were pretty common arrangements, even if as secret from the mundane world as our psi-talented Therianthropic subculture. FFM threesomes were fairly common, MMF threesomes, less common, but MMM threesomes, unheard of in all our long history until there was we three.

Two new kids in two days and the principal wanted me to give both the first day tour. The second assignment felt like torture or punishment. My principal never said a word about the day before. He was not necessarily one hundred percent comfortable with GLBTQ kids and sometimes I felt he gave us openly gay kids more slack than we needed, so as to not appear anti-gay himself. And if that was the case, it was his problem not mine. I was sure not going to tell him to be any more strict with me than he already was.

"I know you missed several of your own classes yesterday," Principal Deacon told me with his usual overly affable smile. "And you will no doubt miss several of the same classes today, but I have every confidence in you Mr. Evans. I am sure you will stay on top of everything you need to."

There was just the barest up-tick of his smile as he held my gaze with his. He had to have had a full report of my hallway scuffle and subsequent PDA moment with Trace, not to mention us holding hands thereafter. So, I decided that if Deacon was going to play coy with me, turnabout was certainly fair play.

"I certainly like to be on top, Mr. Deacon," I nodded, "but I am a very egalitarian sort of guy. Everyone should have their turn on top, don't you think, sir?"

"You certainly have your own perspective on that," Deacon agreed, carefully avoiding answering me; he then handed me the same sort of paperwork as yesterday, including a photo of that day's new arrival. "Tyson Sinclair wrestles, like you do, but at a much lighter weight class than you."

Again, the principal betrayed his tell with a single upsweep of his smile. Did he see what I saw in the photo; a Neph teen in human morph? Or did he just see a short, wiry kid of blended Afro-European descent whose arm veins were like tree roots under his skin? Deacon probably did not appreciate the photo the way I did as a gay jock with an eye for fit masculinity. I doubted that Deacon noticed that the kid's hands were big and long-fingered for his stature.

"Tyson really tears it up," Deacon told me. "He really flies into his opponents. And yet he is almost angelically kind off the mat."

Mundanes, such as Principal Deacon, also many Rules of Three. The only one that counted for me with Deacon was his level of knowledge about us: Ignorant, Initiated, Informed. We rarely initiated any mundane into knowing about us. We only looked for evidence that Mundanes were initiating themselves. What came next depended entirely on their potential to help or harm our kind. Deacon could actually know something or he could just be trying to be clever with his wording, as usual. I would report the conversation to my Tribal Elders and not worry about it or Deacon.

"Will there be anything else?" I asked the principal, rising slowly to leave.

"No, but give my best to Trace Trueblood and remind him that he needs to go to class today," Deacon told me, "just don't use my greeting as an excuse for any more PDAs in the hall, okay?"

"I don't need any excuses for that, Mr. Deacon," I grinned, "just my boyfriend and no adult witnesses."

"That is dangerously close to a confession I do not need to hear from a member of the Student Council, Evans, especially for a boy who is out with one parent and still in the closet with the other," Deacon briefly frowned, then smiled again. "But we are more or less on the same page. Good morning."

I did not need any reminder that I was out at school around my friends, with my mother and even my grandmother, but not with my dad. My dad and I simply did not talk about such things or much of anything, for that matter, not since I was first psi-tested and mostly came up a Beta in my abilities.

Dad was not only an alpha, he was the Alpha and First Elder of my Tribe. Leadership was not hereditary, but betas did not lead, only alphas did. Both my sexual orientation and my psi-talent status might be seen as a stain on our family's genetics. Too bad I could not share with my dad the fact that Trace boosted me to alpha status.

Trace was waiting for me outside Deacon's office, in tight wranglers, cowboy boots and a black gauze, sleeveless shirt that revealed more of his torso that it covered. It clearly did not meet the dress code, but I sure liked it on him. I instantly put my hands on his torso, leaned in and kissed him without boring to check for adult witnesses.

Good morning, Hot Dog, I mentally greeted him as we kissed.

Morning wood to you, too, Fish Stick, Trace teased me back through our kiss, both of us very aware of our almost instant response to one another's affection.

As it occurred to me that I had not checked the hallway before leaning in on my new boyfriend, I felt the urge to but did not want to break off the kiss. Suddenly, both of us were seeing the hall from several angles and ourselves kissing in it from several of those angles. The spider-eyes effect of so many simultaneous images startled us and we broke off the kiss. Looking around, we saw everyone in the hall looking at us, and only one set of eyes projecting his view of us to back to us, although I could not pinpoint that boy. I just knew it was a boy and a gay one at that.

"On that note," I said aloud to Trace, "You need to go to class and I need to do my penance for Deacon by showing some new Neph kid around for him."

"Cunning bastard that Deacon," Trace nodded. "I am jealous already and its just a tour with a Neph kid."

"I love you, too," I told him, "and I am not that much of a slut, Hot Dog. At least I wasn't before I met you."

"just make sure to not give that Neph kid the tour you gave me," Trace demanded, leaning in for one more prolonged kiss to remember him by.

The moment we came into contact, we had spider-eyes in our heads of us touching and then kissing from all angles up and down the hall. This time, however, Trace did not let the unnerving sensation deter him from slipping me his tongue and wrestling my tongue. There were adult Therianthrope eyes on us along with all the kids and we could sense how consternated it made them to be connected with us and every other youth Therianthrope in the hall. What they did not know or suspect was that the psi-vision storm originated with our kiss.

Once again, after Trace and I parted lips and let go of one another, I still felt one set of very gay, very masculine eyes looking up and fixating on Trace and me. I did not tell Trace; he was already more jealous of having me tour alone than he would admit. As quickly as Trace left me and I turned to look around for Tyson Sinclair, the short, wiry and yet very muscular kid stepped out of the press of kids in the hall to face me.

Tyson thrust his hand up at mine and said, "I think we can skip the formal tour, Troy. You and your boyfriend gave me enough of tour to keep me hard for a week."

I wanted to make a smart remark about not being able to notice but the bulge in his jeans would have been impressive on a kid twice his size. I settle for saying, "Getting relief ought to take you about two seconds, right Hummingbird?"

"Nice try at being clever, catfish," he grinned back. "That is something you can find out for yourself, if you like. Even a hummingbird takes his time sharing nectar with a flower as pretty as you."

Caught completely off guard by his bold response, I reluctantly took the hand he kept offering me and in that instant, we both suddenly heard and felt Trace's heartbeat and breathing. We were not only in the foyer of his mind as my people liked to call it, we were suddenly with him in his inner sanctum. What he was thinking about doing with me and to me should have made Tyson blush, but it did not. Tyson just grinned and nodded his approval at me.

Troy, how, why? Trace inquired just before demanding, What the F--- are you doing in my head, chicken schizer? Are you kissing my guy, little man?

Troy, we are just shaking hands, I assured him, But you need to come join us, without tearing the new kid apart when you get here. I'm keeping hands off him until you get here.

I let go of Tyson's hand, stepped back and looked down at him. I said, "I felt it and there is no point in discussing it until Trace gets here."

Suddenly, the air around us crackled like static electricity and the temperature dropped right before the air exploded outward with a pop like a ruptured balloon. Trace materialized before our eyes, his shirt smelling as if it had just been ironed with him in it. He stared at me, and then we stared down at Tyson, who just calmly smiled back, "The three of us need to talk and not here in this hallway."


message 11: by Jay (new)

Jay Clark (jaydclark) | 488 comments Jay D. wrote: "A Therianthropic Threesome: Part 2--Connections and Confusion

The Rule of Three was so strong among us that polyandry and polygamy were pretty common arrangements, even if as secret from the munda..."


I thought I would stay with the motif of a preamble. And this next segment will take several visits to write and polish, so the preamble is also a taste and hopefully a tease.


message 12: by Kaje (new)

Kaje Harper | 16460 comments Yeah, I'd call it a tease ;)


message 13: by Jay (new)

Jay Clark (jaydclark) | 488 comments Kaje wrote: "Yeah, I'd call it a tease ;)"

:D


message 14: by Jay (new)

Jay Clark (jaydclark) | 488 comments Kaje wrote: "Yeah, I'd call it a tease ;)"

Part 2 is done, except for tweaking and editing. I will get to the 3rd installment as soon as I can.


message 15: by Kaje (new)

Kaje Harper | 16460 comments Looking forward to it.


message 16: by Jay (new)

Jay Clark (jaydclark) | 488 comments Kaje wrote: "Looking forward to it."

I tweaked more than edited, hopefully for the better.


message 17: by Jay (last edited May 14, 2014 06:39PM) (new)

Jay Clark (jaydclark) | 488 comments A Therianthropic Threesome: Part 3--Trouble, Trial and Tutor

Triad Hall was an imposing structure that stood out and yet remained hidden. Local Mundanes saw it as a favored place for a pint of micro-brew and to feel special for stopping by. Tourists saw it as a concrete, neo-classic monument to early twentieth century technology. To Therianthropes in America, it was the secret center of our culture, our values and our internal system of justice. It was where we were to be judged and where we three would judge our judges.

Once Trace, Tyson and I found ourselves alone in an empty classroom, I gazed at Trace and said, "Bird boy, here, is why we were seeing ourselves through spider eyes earlier. And before you get all crazy jealous on me, just take his hand in yours and see what happens. He obviously intensifies our psi-talents the same we intensify one another."

Trace gave me his stubborn look and Tyson looked less than enthused to offer his hand to Trace, I broke the impasse and took each of them by the hand. My contact with both of them totally wiped away their mutual objections to one another. They suddenly felt for one another what each avowed to feel for me. No words, vocal or mental, were spoken as we literally merged consciousness for a few seconds, came together and joined open mouths in a three-way tongue kiss.

Suddenly, hundreds of thousands of other minds joined with us and with one another. Only later did we know that the Joining affected every living Therianthrope in all three Tribes on the whole planet. Level one or Gamma telepaths felt the empathic surge of emotion. Beta telepaths got bits and pieces of thought from other Betas and Alphas. But every last Alpha telepath on the planet suddenly shared full connected consciousness with the three of us. Luckily for us, so many minds were briefly enmeshed that no one could pinpoint the three of us as the source.

We did not drop hands or pull away, but the Joining itself faded. We focused inward to ourselves, just the three of us and our circle of shared consciousness shrank to include only us. We let our hands wander and our other senses focus on the three of us becoming one in every way possible, given the fact that we were in a school classroom. It did not occur to any of us to telekinetically lock or seal the door; we just accepted the apparent limitations on us as real.

We had plenty on our collective plate without even thinking about going all the way at school, but eventually we would do more than think about it. The more we kissed three ways at once and mutually groped minds and bodies, the more just such a notion entered into our thoughts.

I still don't really like you, chicken tenders, Trace informed Tyson as we continued to share outer and inner thoughts, flicking tongues and roaming hands, but I sure want to get naked with the pair of you and see how we work out as a threesome.

Caught in the euphoria of our three-way mutual attraction, we almost missed the inner warnings of eminent personal transformation or "transition" as we called our unique and painful passage between morphs.

I was first to feel it for what it was, but not first to start frantically tearing at clothes to get free of them. Trace was more than ready to get naked for other reasons. It was Tyson who had the forethought to use his mind to throw the double-sided deadbolt lock on the door and make it temporarily "key-proof." Trace had his shirt off first but I quickly followed, having dropped my pants and boxers with greater personal urgency than pulling off my shirt. Trace all but ripped Tyson's shirt off.

The downside of being a Dolph was needing to lose my pants to transition into blended morph. The other two only needed to go shirtless, although Trace also needed to lose his shoes, which he quickly did. As I lost my footing and my feet, the other two telekinetically sustained me.

My legs snapped together and fused. My feet distorted into tail flukes. Skin at my groin ruptured and rapidly enclosed my male parts, leaving a barely visible penis slit that would open under pressure. I oozed blood at every rupture but did not actively bleed, my body automatically limiting bleeding where and when it needed to. Once fully in tail, I took over sustaining myself just over the floor and lent my telekinetic efforts to my two boyfriends.

Tyson's wings erupted from his back all bloody and bare of feathers, but those soon sprouted and grew rapidly, making him writhe in pure agony. However much I suffered as my leg and feet bones distorted, and skin shifted, Tyson suffered ten times more and just as rapidly as I had. He was barely in full plumage, angelic wings gently beating to dry, when Trace's face contorted into a blend of wolf and human features, his hands growing claws and his bare feet doing the same. His ears changed into a blend of wolf and human ears. Hair sprouted on his back and neck to form a mane and his arms became covered in fur on the top but remained bare human skin on the underside. His transition to blended form was a piece of cake when compared to either Tyson or myself, but he was the only one to howl about it upon completion.

We barely had time to admire and jokingly chide one another about our blended appearances when we felt the urge to full beast morph upon us. Trace and Tyson quickly got rid of their remaining clothes.

Trace led off this time and such pain as he avoided to blend he now paid for in spades as his blended body twisted into full wolf, sprouting dark fur everywhere at once. Tyson and I shared in every twist of every bone, every shredding of every sinew, and every agonizing shift of skin over flesh that Trace experienced. But the dark-furred, snarling wolf that resulted captured our two hearts as much as it would have terrified anyone else.

Then, Tyson transformed into a relatively huge, dark-plumed eagle of a species long thought extinct, the rapid transition just as painful as Trace's had been. As quickly as he passed into full beast morph, I rapidly transitioned into a large bottle-nose dolphin with oddly human coloring.

As rapidly as we could commit one another's beast morph to memory, we shifted back to blend and then to human, each transition more rapid and more painful to us than the one before it. In the end, we all collapsed to the classroom floor in a semi-conscious tumble of flesh. Seconds later, the passing bell between classes rang.

Instead of the sound of kids filling the halls with the usual chatter and laughter, we heard shrieks and the cries of wild wolves and eagles along with the chattering calls of dolphins. We were too exhausted to care, but we knew we had just forced transition on every Therianthrope in the school, exposing them all to the Mundanes in their midst. Trouble was now our shared middle name.

How Principal Deacon got into the room, we were not sure. We only knew he was there and he was rapidly dressing us, one nearly helpless teen at a time.

Tyson, Deacon silently told our newest boyfriend, I am putting your briefs on you and pulling them up. I will do my best to fit them without touching you inappropriately.

Deacon let Tyson know exactly what he was doing with each piece of clothing that followed, and then turned to Trace. He followed the same pattern for each of us, and then helped us to our feet. When he was sure we could stand on our own, he silently told us, Join hands in a circle with me. The Triad Council has convened a triple tribunal, the first one in nearly a century, and just to put the three of you on trial.

We obeyed without question, all of us still too weak and dazed to argue. The air around turned frosty cold and stirred like a sudden indoor microburst. Light as bright as the sun crackled all over us and filled us like popcorn in the microwave. Moments later we stood outside the front steps of Triad Hall, our clothes smelling as if ironed with us still in them.

"You three stay here, rest until you have command of yourselves and your psi-talents and do not enter the hall until sent for," Deacon told us, and silently added, As your psi-tutor, it is my right to plea your case. And it will not be an easy case to plea. You have frightened a lot of people, Therianthrope and Mundane alike. But you are not alone in taking fault, because your meeting was no mere accident. The Council sanctioned it and I shall remind them that they did so without any disclosure to you three as to what might follow. So, as I go inside for you, sit down there at the foot of the steps and consider well your next move as psi-talented kids who are now a threesome.


message 18: by Sammy Goode (new)

Sammy Goode | 5380 comments Jay D. wrote: "A Therianthropic Threesome: Part 3--Trouble, Trial and Tutor

Triad Hall was an imposing structure that stood out and yet remained hidden. Local Mundanes saw it as a favored place for a pint of mic..."


Very cool story--thank you!


message 19: by Kaje (new)

Kaje Harper | 16460 comments Jay D. wrote: " It did not occur to any of us to telekinetically lock or seal the door;..."

*Snerk* Thanks for the great story.


message 20: by Jay (new)

Jay Clark (jaydclark) | 488 comments Part 3 Still in process, but thanks. Praise is always welcome. So, is constructive criticism. My guest is that both of you have some inkling of where I am going with the story. So, when I get there, I would love to know if I dropped the right bread crumbs for the intuitive, perceptive reader.


message 21: by Kaje (new)

Kaje Harper | 16460 comments Looking forward to more.


message 22: by Jay (new)

Jay Clark (jaydclark) | 488 comments Kaje wrote: "Looking forward to more."

Part 3 is done except for tweaking and editing. Part 4 will wrap this story up for now, although, once summer comes, I may have to revisit it and see if a first novel can emerge.


message 23: by Kaje (new)

Kaje Harper | 16460 comments It would be fun if this went to a novel :)


message 24: by Jay (last edited May 24, 2014 07:24PM) (new)

Jay Clark (jaydclark) | 488 comments A Therianthropic Threesome: Part 4--Truth and Dare Times Three

Triad Hall was really Three buildings in one: the public house and inn above, the transition house at ground level, and the Tribal House below. The Triple Tribunal convened within lacked the gravitas of the single silent tribunal held outside in the loving huddle of we three. They had brought us together without our informed consent, but they would not so easily separate us.

Having touched our minds with his, once huddled together at the base of the hall stairs, our telepathic presence went with Deacon into the secret side entrance below the stairs. Beyond the entrance, Deacon was met by six Therianthropes at a sort of reservation desk: a male and female representative of each Tribe. We felt their mental probe along with Deacon but they did not detect or acknowledge our telepathic presence in his mind. Deacon turned to his right and went into a changing room for men, where he got undressed and put his clothes into a locker. The only garment he put on was a short, embroidered apron that depicted the ancient Tree of Life. Once aproned, Deacon transitioned into blended Dolph morph, obliging him to levitate above the floor enough to raise his long fluked tail above it.

There was always a taint of spoiled salmon about you, Trace smirked inside Deacon's mind.

Be silent or be gone, Deacon warned us all, not just Trace. But for the record, I fooled you all. My ability to blend in with the Mundanes is precisely why I was assigned to tutor you three.

A tutor was a guide, a personal trainer among Therianthropes, not a spy for the Triad Council.

Tutor us? All you've done is keep us in the dark until we messed up. I countered, rejecting the notion.

It's the shits, I know. But I had my orders, Deacon admitted. And no one thought bringing you three together would end up creating this mess. But that's not the worst of it. We knew you were all gay, individually, but no one thought you would bond into a threesome, a gay life-triad. There is no precedence for this.

They know? Tyson was furious.

A gay life-triad, a gay life-triad,Trace mulled over in his mind, then suddenly pulled Tyson's face to his and kissed him, tongue wrestling him so hard I felt it in my mouth without actually kissing either of them. Our three-way kiss just before we all shifted morphs had bonded us sexually, emotionally and telepathically. We were life-mates, three life mates or a life-triad and apparently the last Therianthropes on Earth to know it.

Every Therianthrope, everywhere knows it, Deacon told us. While only those of us in the school transitioned with you, every Therianthrope everywhere witness your psi-talent union into a life-triad. Now please be quiet and pay close attention.

Because Triad Hall stood on or near land claimed my Tribe, it was tradition for the First Tribal Elder for the Dolphs to speak first, which was my own father. As we gazed at the nine men and women who filled the ring of thrones around the well of the chamber, where Deacon stood alone, we realized that four of the nine were our own parents. And through Deacon's telepathic connection to the Nine Elders or judges, we knew everything that was on their minds. What shocked the three of us most, however, was what our four member parents knew about us, and always knew.

My father not only knew I was gay and had never let me know he knew it, he knew I was a pure psi-talent alpha and always had been. Trace and Tyson felt the same raw, betrayed feeling that I suddenly felt, and not just because of me. Tyson's mom sat in the center throne for the Nephs, while Trace's mom sat to the right and his father to the left of Lobo center throne. Both of his parents knew he was gay all along and never shared one encouraging, loving word to him about it. All of them knew more about our psi-talents that we did and had kept the knowledge from us. We were suddenly filled with a wrath we could not contain.

Before we could stop ourselves or even realize what we were actually doing, we took control of Deacon's mouth and outer thoughts, leaving him trapped in his own flesh, but with us using him to speak.

"You have betrayed us," Deacon spoke, uttering our words aloud, but our message was so intense that it telepathically pierced every mind inside the large, underground hall. "We are your children, your flesh and blood and you used us without our knowledge or consent for some unknown purpose. The Nine of you are unfit to judge us or anyone else among the Tribes. Get out of those thrones and fall back."

All nine of the Tribal Elders instantly, unwillingly stood up and stepped back from the thrones, forced to sit among the circular benches behind them. As the thrones stood empty, we said, "Now hear our judgment. You brought us together and we are one. But we are still teens who need loving guidance. We did not get it when we needed it most. We still want it and need it, but not your judgment. Give us what we need and want and we will forgive you. Try to separate or control us and you will all pay dearly."

With that last pronouncement, we pulled back from Deacon's mind and body, cutting him off from us telepathically. In fact we shut every mind out of ours and then we sat down beneath the steps, minds shielded, but waiting in our embrace for our parents, Deacon, the other Elders and representatives to emerge. Would we finally be accepted and lovingly guided or would there be tri-talent war? We were prepared for both.

####


message 25: by Kaje (last edited May 20, 2014 05:44PM) (new)

Kaje Harper | 16460 comments ** Hanging On **

I knew it was bad news the minute Shane slammed into my room. He's a bit of a hot-head, and the wall had more than one dent from Shane and the door getting too rough with each other, but I'd never seen his eyes like this.

“They can't! I refuse.”

“Whoa.” I grabbed him and pulled him in for a rough hug, pinning his arms because sometimes it takes a tight squeeze to keep him together. “Can't what? Who?”

“My parents. Pull me out of school!”

“Oh.” That was a damned feeble response, but it was all I could get past the air going out of my chest.

Shane jerked away from me and took a whirl around the room. “Someone, some interfering bastard, told them the school was encouraging me to be gay.”

I blinked. “Encouraging how?” Because things weren't awful for gay kids at Goldman Academy, but they sure weren't what I'd call encouraging.

“I don't know. How the hell should I know?” Shane slammed his hand on the wall, then winced. “Because they have a GSA? Because they don't waterboard us straight?”

“Like, join the twenty-first century?”

“I know, right? But Mom says they want me somewhere with 'traditional values' that will 'focus my attention on college prep and not hanging around those kinds of boys.'”

“Hah. Like you needed to be encouraged to hang around boys.”

Shane gave me a smirk with about a tenth of his usual wattage. I reached out and noogied him on his soft dark short-cropped hair. I was lying anyway. It had taken Dylan and me weeks to get Shane out of his closet, even in private. Speaking of which, “Does Dylan know?” I was the realist, peace-maker and speaker-to-adults of our trio, but Dylan was the clever idea man.

“He's in Theater practice.”

“Oh, sure.” Our Dylan is one of the prettiest guys you will ever see; blue eyes, light brown hair, perfect nose, cheekbones. He's promised to buy the three of us a place with a pool and a home theater when he hits it big in Hollywood, and he just might do it.

Shane flopped on the bed with a loud sigh. “I don't know what the hell to do.”

“How long do we have?”

He pulled out his cell phone, checked it. “Two hours.”

“What the fu... hell?” Some kinds of swearing cause enough trouble that I tried to avoid practicing them. Although, today, maybe I didn't care. “What the everlasting fuck? Two hours?”

“And seven minutes.” Shane looked up at me, his dark eyes wet. “Paul? Help?”

I lay down beside him, with my arm around him but kind of loosely in case my roommate came in. Not that Bob didn't know what Shane and I were to each other, or to Dylan for that matter, but he preferred us not to rub his nose in it. “So start from the top. What happened?”

“I don't know!” Shane sniffed and scrubbed his hand over his eyes. “I got called into the Director's office. Miss Lindley said my parents were on the phone and wanted to speak to me. I was scared for a second. Can you believe it? I was afraid they were sick or in hospital or getting a divorce or something.”

“I bet,” I said. I'd met Mr. and Mrs. Robinson, and they were not a warm couple. They came to school events in stiffly formal clothes, spoke to Shane and his teachers while standing a foot apart at all times, then drove away in their latest model BMW. I could imagine a divorce, if they could bring themselves to be that uncouth.

“Instead they told me they were coming at nine tonight to pick me up; that I should pack my essentials and they would send a service for the rest.”

“Ouch.” I hugged him closer.

“I asked why, you know? I'm doing okay in class, now that I have you tutoring me in math. I got third in the all-around on Field Day, and I won the damned hurdles despite having the shortest legs in the entire field. I'm doing everything Dad told me to do.”

I kissed his hair, feeling the soft plush against my lips. I wouldn't lose this. Couldn't.

“Dad said I was failing in one thing. No son of his was going to be out and gay. It's bad for business. He didn't even ask me if it was true, just said, 'I heard you're acting homosexual at that school and they aren't doing anything about that. We've found an academy with more traditional values for you.' Like he had the right to just swoop down and rip me out of my own life, because it doesn't look like his.”

“Maybe Mr. Marcus could talk to him.” Marcus was our GSA advisor. He wasn't gay, he was married with three kids, which made him a good advocate to the parents sometimes.

Shane shook his head against my neck. “I asked. I told him to wait. I said I would quit the GSA, even though there's lots of straight kids in it too. I asked if he would talk to my teachers.”

“And?”

“He laughed. He said the school hadn't been his choice from the start, and he had somewhere better in mind. I said it was bad to change this late in my junior year, and he said I'd have time to settle in at St. Stephen's before my college applications would go in.”

I closed my eyes and nuzzled in against Shane's hair.

“I could refuse to go with them, run away.” Shane's voice buzzed against my skin. “Maybe stay here in town and get a job.”

It was often up to me to be the real one, even when I didn't want to be. “What kind of job?”

“Anything. Bagging groceries. Cleaning bathrooms in bars.”

“You can't live on that kind of money. And you gag when you walk into a dirty bathroom.”

“I could get over it.”

“You're seventeen. You can't work in a bar. Anyway your parents would probably have you picked up as a runaway.”

“Then I'd just run again.” Shane rose up on one elbow to look down at me. “You're not taking this seriously.”

“I am. God, I am.” I pulled him down on top of me. “I can't stand the thought of losing you.” It would be like the sun going dim. Shane was our firecracker, our sparkplug. He kept us going. “But it's so damned hard to fight adults when we're underage. And two hours...” I rubbed my own damp face on his shoulder. “Let me think, okay? Let me lay here,” - and hold you - “and think?”

Dylan burst into the room after I'd had about fifteen minutes of that, of futile useless hamster-in-a-wheel thinking that went nowhere good.

“Hey, guys. There you are! I thought you were going to meet me...” He wound down. “What's wrong?”

Shane sat up and looked at him, his throat working. After a minute I said, “Shane's parents are pulling him out of Goldman and sending him to St. Stephen's.”

“What? Why?”

“Because someone told them he's gay here.”

“Like he'd be straight somewhere else?”

“They're gonna try to make that happen.”

“What? They can't!”

Shane let out a laugh that was far from funny. “That's what I said. But until I turn eighteen I'm their property and they sure as shit can try.”

“Tell them you won't go.” Dylan dropped onto the bed beside us and grabbed Shane's arm. “Tell them if they send you to St. Stephen's you'll flunk out and become a druggie. Worse than gay.”

Shane gave us a soggy smile. “You tell my Dad that. Go on. I dare you.”

“Wouldn't it be worth it?” Dylan laid a hand on Shane's neck, slid up to touch his cheek. He has these gestures, I think he learns them in theater, and from me they'd look fake but when Dylan does it to Shane it makes my chest feel all warm. Except that day it felt cold as ice. “To stay with us?”

“Sure.” Shane turned enough to rub his lips on Dylan's hand. Then because he was Shane, he sucked on one of Dylan's fingers and pulled off with a pop. “It'd be worth anything. But it wouldn't work that way.”

“Why not? If you gave him the choice...”

“I don't give my Dad ultimatums.” Shane closed his eyes, and Dylan and I kind of moved up to put him between us. Shane said, “Dad's like a pit bull, when his mind's made up. He might skip St. Stephens, if he took my threat seriously, but he wouldn't let me stay here. That would be giving up his authority. He'd hire a tutor, or pick some school in England, or who knows, some turn-the-gay-kid-straight place in Mississippi or something.”

Dylan leaned into us harder. “Fuck!”

I muttered, “That's what I said.”

Shane managed a smile. “He really did. Mr. Perfect said the f-word right here in school.”

“Damned fucking right,” Dylan muttered. “So, now what?”

“I don't know,” I admitted. “I'm thinking and nothing's happening.”

Normally that would have been the cue for the other two to give me shit, but tonight we just huddled closer.

The door popped open and Bob came hurrying in. “Yuck. No PDAs guys. You know what I said...” He paused, looking at us. “Whose dog died?”

Shane said, “The 'rents are pulling me out of school. Tonight.”

“Shit. What'd you do, Robinson?”

“I was gay with intent to embarrass.”

“The fuck? You're not even out, really. I mean, yeah, everyone knows. But those two are the official lovebirds. You're the dumb, oblivious, straight third wheel.”

Shane gave him the finger. “Someone told my Dad.”

“Who?”

Shane shrugged. I felt a surge of hate for whoever passed along that lovely bit of gossip. If I ever found out...

Dylan said, “It might not have been on purpose really. All the parents know each other, pretty much. Maybe someone mentioned it to their folks, and it got passed on. It doesn't matter now.”

It mattered to me, but I tried to let go of the anger. Now wasn't the time.

“It matters if you could deny it. Make Shane look straight.” Bob snapped his fingers. “I could call Suze, get her to sneak out of the house. She could come here, and when your folks arrive, there's Shane and Suze, making out in the quad. You think?” Suze was Bob's townie girlfriend, and a sweet girl. She might actually go for that.

I felt a surge of hope, but Shane shook his head against my shoulder. “God, I was too stupid for that. When Dad started in on me, I was asking, and begging, and then when he wouldn't budge I told him he could pull me out of Goldman, but nothing he ever did could turn me straight.” He sighed and gripped my wrist, hard enough to hurt. “I think I burned my straight card.”

“Oh.” Bob subsided. “That sucks.”

We all nodded. Bob backed up to the door. “Okaaay. I'm gonna give you guys some space. And I just want to say...” His face got red, but he plunged on. “At first, I thought you were all whacked. I mean, liking guys over soft, pretty girls is weird enough. Liking two guys at once?” He shook his head. “I thought you were crazy and you'd break up or kill each other in a week. But you didn't and, well, I'm kind of used to seeing you together. Without Shane, well, it's not gonna be the same, you know?”

Shane said a feeble, “Thanks.”

“Like, call or Skype or whatever, right?” Bob backed out all the way and shut the door behind him.

Shane looked at his phone. “Hour and a half.”

Dylan said, “We could all run away, together. I know Shane can't stay, if his folks don't foot the bill. So we could all leave. Find a place together, just the three of us.”

For a minute, that glorious vision rose before my eyes. We could find an abandoned cabin on a lake, hunt and fish and fuck, not bother anyone or see anyone... The vision broke apart on the realities of electric bills and snow and three sets of hunting parents. “I wish.”

“You have a better idea, Mr. Responsible?”

“That's not an idea, that's a dream. A nice one. Real nice.”

We sat together for a bit longer. The sun was setting outside and the room was bathed in that golden evening light. I don't know who started the kiss. Maybe we all leaned together. Sometimes it seemed like we did that. But Shane's lips were stiff and cool, and Dylan's tasted of salt. We kissed for a while anyway, pressing together, not trying for anything more.

Eventually we broke apart enough to talk. Shane said, “One good thing. I'm out. No closet any more. And I'm gonna be loud and proud, and Dad can just get stuffed.”

“Careful though.” Dylan hugged him harder. “Don't let him hurt you. You talked about that ex-gay shit. Don't let that happen.”

“I don't think he would.” Shane's voice wobbled. “I think he does love me, kind of. More than Mom does, anyway, and Dad calls the shots.”


message 26: by Kaje (last edited May 25, 2014 08:57AM) (new)

Kaje Harper | 16460 comments *
Dylan said, “My parents love you, you know that. Even without knowing you're more than my friend.”

“I know. You lucked out.”

“Yeah.”

I thought a bit longer, took my own resolve in hand, and said, “So. Guys. Here's what I see. You tell me if I'm wrong.”

“Ooh, you bet we will,” Dylan said. “We'll mark it on the calendar.”

I went on loudly, “As I was saying, I don't think we can fight this right now. If Shane's parents won't keep him in Goldman he's out.”

Dylan said slowly, “My parents might chip in for his tuition. Maybe... If I explained.”

I shook my head. “Goldman wouldn't keep a kid against his legal parents' wishes. So for now, we have to figure on Shane going to St. Stephen's.”

Shane said, “Maybe I could get crappy grades there. Ask them to send me back.”

“You said your Dad hates being pressured.”

“Yeah. He'd probably just hire me a tutor. Probably a fifty-year-old nun with a big ruler.”

“There are worse places he could have picked,” I pointed out. “St. Stephen's is only a hundred miles away.”

“It's four hours by bus. More by train. We worked that out when Rick got sent there.”

Dylan added, “And we never get more than eight hours free. It doesn't work. We'll never see him.”

I said, “I think we can.”

“Huh?”

I sighed. “You know my dad wants me to intern with his company this summer.”

Shane just looked at me. Dylan said, “You got that forestry internship though.”

“Yeah. But I didn't accept yet. I didn't tell my folks. So what I didn't tell you guys is, Dad tried to sweeten the pot. He said he knew I'd want to be able to see my friends here, so he'd buy me a car, insurance and all, so I could get around.”

Dylan frowned. “You hate the packaging business.”

“I can do it for the summer. I can handle it.” It hurt to think of losing the internship, a summer out in the open air doing the job I wanted someday. But for Shane, for Dylan, I could do it. “So I thought, I'll tell Dad I'm weighing things, considering the internship. I'll tell him Shane got transferred, and I need a car now to see him sometimes.”

Shane said, “You're not supposed to go out of town. You're not supposed to have a car, either.”

I eyed him coolly. “Shane Robinson is telling me not to break the rules?”

Dylan said slowly, “It might work. Help, anyway. If we can get our free days to match up.”

“I'll ask Dad to garage it in town. We can take the bus in for the day, like usual, and just... disappear. And see Shane.”

Shane rubbed his face. “This sucks. This just totally sucks! I don't want to see you guys once every couple of weeks.” His voice broke. “I don't want to be alone and gay and by myself at some suck-ass school.”

Dylan did his fake sexy growl. “The only suck-ass you should do is with us.”

Shane hit him, not gently. “You'll have each other. I'll be the one alone. You'll be together.”

Dylan and I met eyes over Shane's head. Dylan said, “Do you want us to swear we won't get off together when you're not here?”

Shane stared at him, then at me. “You can't promise that.” But there was hope and pleading in his eyes. I realized how much he needed to know we would stay three, and not just two.

“Sure we can,” I said. “The blue balls will be something fierce, and Dylan will probably wear out his right hand, but we can. It's no different than Bob and his girl in town.”

“You shouldn't have to. You have each other.”

“But we won't have you.” I kissed him, and then Dylan did too. I said, “Hang on,” and got up to rummage in my drawer.

Shane said, “What are you after? I can't. Not now.”

“Mind out of the gutter.” I found the little silk bag and came back to the bed. “This was for next week. Our kind of anniversary of that first time, you know?”

Dylan said softly, “Yeah. We remember.”

“So, I wanted to get something.” I dug in the bag and pulled out three chains. I passed one to Dylan, and put one in Shane's damp palm. “These are us.” They were simple, a series of twisted links. I'm not a jewelry guy, but these caught my eye because they had a repeating pattern of copper, silver and gold. “The three of us, right? Take out any one color of link, and the whole thing falls apart.” I touched the copper. “That's me, solid, you know.” The silver. “That's Dylan of the silver tongue.” The gold. “That's you, Shane. The bright part.”

Shane looked at his silently. Dylan slid his over his head, tucking it down under his shirt. I put mine on, and turned to Shane. After a moment, Dylan took the chain out of his fingers and slipped it over his head. “There.”

Shane said, “I don't know if I can do this.”

“Sure you can,” I said. “We can. We will. We have evenings on the phone or computer. We'll find days, hours if we have to. I'd drive two hours to spend an hour together, if that's all we get.”

Shane said, “I'm scared you'll forget me. After a while. It'll be too much bother.”

Dylan kissed him, with lots of tongue and enthusiasm.

I said, “We could all die tomorrow. But until then.” I flicked the chain around his neck. “This is us. Linked. Better together. In barely more than a year, we'll head to college.”

Shane shook his head. “Who knows if I'll even get in.”

“Pessimist.” I kissed him too. “We'll all need to hit the books for a year, get the grades so we can pick our own poison then. But either way, we'll be eighteen. Things will change, if we can just hang on.”

Shane grabbed the chain around my neck and hauled me in closer, nearly choking me with his grasp. “Promise.”

“Promise. Unless I die of strangulation.”

He opened his hand. “Sorry.”

“No sorrys.” I tipped the three of us down on the bed.

We used up most of another hour just making out, kissing and touching. I tried to memorize every inch of Shane, every sound and smell and texture. I think he was doing the same with us. Eventually he sat up though. “I really should pack some stuff. Or I'll be going home with nothing.”

We trooped to his room. His roommate was out, but that was okay. They barely tolerated each other anyway. Drew was going to be a Wall Street wizard and he'd probably be relieved to get Shane's discordant energy out of his space. So Dylan and I helped Shane pack his favorite things into his sports bag. He dumped his equipment on the floor of the closet. “Won't need that. I only did it for Dad anyway.”

Dylan swatted his ass. “I thought you did it to stay hot for Paul and me.”

I swatted Shane too. “Yeah. Don't you go getting flabby on us.”

He managed a laugh, as he sorted through the stuff in his desk. “At least these days, the stuff that matters is mostly on my phone. Pictures, Texts.” He looked at me. “Blackmail material.”

I nodded. We'd sucked him in that first time, when he claimed not to be interested, by showing him pictures, one after another, of him staring at me, or perving on Dylan's ass. When he freaked, we sent him some shots of the two of us kissing, as counterdeterrent. I knew he'd saved those. “With passwords, right?”

“Damn right.”

Eventually he had a duffel and a backpack filled. He set them by the door and we looked at each other.

Dylan said, “We should say goodbye here, I guess. For as long as we can.”

Shane glanced from him to me, then said, “Fuck that!”

“Huh?”

“I'm done hiding. I'm through keeping anything on the down low. Miss Lyndley said to wait for my folks in the hall. Will you wait with me? The three of us? I really need you guys.”

I said slowly, “Together, you mean? Like, touching?”

“Yeah.” He got quieter. “If you want. Is that okay?”

We'd never done that, three-way PDAs at school. Dylan and I would hug or even kiss, despite the rules. But Shane had kept it cool.

Dylan said fast and hard, “Yeah. Absolutely. This is us, the three of us, and anyone says anything tonight, I'll shove their nose up their face.”

I nodded. “No fighting. The last thing we need is you getting expelled. But yeah, I'm in.”

Shane took a breath, and hefted his bags. “Come on, then.”

The front hall of the admin building was built a century ago, all marble floors and columns and echoes. When we got there, Mr. Franks was showing some new parents around. Franks gave us a worried look, before pointing out some other fine feature of the building. Shane dumped his bags, and glanced at us. “C'mon.”

We went out the front, to where the cobbled drive swoops around to the front steps. Shane leaned on the wall, then slid down, like his legs couldn't hold him, He pulled his knees up to hide behind, staring off down the drive. In the warm evening light, his eyes were dark and shadowed. I sat beside him, and put my arm around him. I expected Dylan to take his other side, but he sat beside me instead, and just reached for Shane's hand. Their fingers locked. Dylan said, “Why does it have to be like this? Why can't people just let us love each other, like my folks do?”

I wrapped my other arm around him and kissed his temple. “I don't know. But they can't stop us. They can only slow us down. We're seventeen, and counting.”

Shane muttered to his knees. “The man with the plan. Keep us together, Paul. Please?”

“Always,” I said.

We sat there, the three of us, and waited for the BMW to come into view down the drive.



*** Three years later ***



I glanced across the kitchen counter at Dylan. “Is that the last of the milk?”

He lowered the carton and wiped his lips with the back of his hand sheepishly. “Um. Yeah? Sorry?”

I sighed, and set my coffee mug on the counter in front of him. “In there.”

“I had my mouth on it.”

“Considering the way we just kissed, should I care?”

Dylan laughed, and dripped the last drops into my mug.

Shane wandered in, yawning and rubbing his eyes. “I don't know how you guys can be so bright and perky this early in the morning. It's unnatural.”

Dylan tossed the carton in the sink. “I'm not perky.” He caught Shane in a headlock. “Take that back!” Their wriggling brought them up against me hard enough to knock me back a step.

I sighed. A year of living together, and I still got elbows in the ribs and no milk. “I have early class, you morons. See you later.”

Before I could pick up my bag, they both reached out. Dylan got the front of my sweatshirt, Shane looped a finger through the chain around my neck, and they both pulled me in. Shane kissed me, “Drive safely.”

Dylan kissed me. “Buy milk.”

I hugged them, pushed them away, grabbed my bag and my travel mug, and jogged down the stairs and out our building's front door, into the bright sunshine.

####


message 27: by Jay (new)

Jay Clark (jaydclark) | 488 comments Kaje wrote: "*
Dylan said, “My parents love you, you know that. Even without knowing you're more than my friend.”

“I know. You lucked out.”

“Yeah.”

I thought a bit longer, took my own resolve in hand, and sa..."


Great story, but it needs a whole novel wrapped around it, not to be putting requests on you. 'Cause, if I was, I think you have the makings of a new series here.


message 28: by Jay (new)

Jay Clark (jaydclark) | 488 comments Jay D. wrote: "A Therianthropic Threesome: Part 4--Truth and Dare Times Three

Triad Hall was really Three buildings in one: the public house and inn above, the transition house at ground level, and the Tribal Ho..."


With an entire weekend of scoring papers and entering grades ahead, I just had to finish this story, especially when it suddenly and so simply came together.


message 29: by Kaje (last edited May 24, 2014 02:47PM) (new)

Kaje Harper | 16460 comments Jay D. wrote: "Great story, but it needs a whole novel wrapped around it. 'Cause, if I was, I think you have the makings of a new series here..."
I'm glad you liked it. I have way more plot bunnies than writing time. I've written thirty or so stories for this group, and half of them could be novels... I did briefly wish I had time to write the skipped 3 years.

I'm glad you finished your story section - talk about something that could be a series, leaving them on the brink of love or war, at odds with parents, in a new triad... So much in there, but at least we know they'll stay together.

And yeah, writing is compelling. (Yard work? What yard work?)


message 30: by Jay (last edited May 24, 2014 06:38PM) (new)

Jay Clark (jaydclark) | 488 comments Kaje wrote: "Jay D. wrote: "Great story, but it needs a whole novel wrapped around it. 'Cause, if I was, I think you have the makings of a new series here..."
I'm glad you liked it. I have way more plot bunnies..."


Thanks, although it wants a bit of tweaking. And to be honest, this is part of a storyline I have toyed with before as straight "urban fantasy" but never felt good about until I saw that prompt and decided the MM threesome angle was exactly what was missing to make it work. If I expand it into novel form, I hope you will Beta read for it.

And yard work, yikes! There is a major point of shared guilt. Well, that is why I only teased you about writing more. I am sure you have stories in progress and stories planned. And I still need to branch out and read some of your other series besides LL. But whether this story or another, I think you have a knack for making a committed MM threesome work as a complete storyline. I know I would read it.

BTW, I loved the chain with its copper, silver and gold links as a personal metaphor for their love.

Just keep me in mind when you need a beta reader.


message 31: by Kaje (last edited May 24, 2014 08:29PM) (new)

Kaje Harper | 16460 comments Jay D. wrote: "Kaje wrote: "Jay D. wrote: "Great story, but it needs a whole novel wrapped around it. 'Cause, if I was, I think you have the makings of a new series here..."
I'm glad you liked it. I have way more..."


I wrote an adult M/M/M committed trio story - it's a short 64K novel in the Hunting Under Covers free anthology. Definitely not YA so i won't link it though. I wrote another YA M/M/M short story in Rainbow Briefs too.


message 32: by Jay (new)

Jay Clark (jaydclark) | 488 comments Kaje wrote: "Jay D. wrote: "Kaje wrote: "Jay D. wrote: "Great story, but it needs a whole novel wrapped around it. 'Cause, if I was, I think you have the makings of a new series here..."
I'm glad you liked it. ..."


I will hunted down Hunting Under Covers and have downloaded it. I need to get some "Home Work" done (at least 3 more chapters tonight) before I read anything else. (More of Tony and Mac is my after-grading treat for the evening.) But I will read some of your M/M/M committed trio story before I go to bed.


message 33: by Kaje (new)

Kaje Harper | 16460 comments Good luck with the grading, and the stories will be there. No rush.


message 34: by Jay (new)

Jay Clark (jaydclark) | 488 comments Kaje wrote: "Good luck with the grading, and the stories will be there. No rush."

I just hurry so I don't have to rush. ;-D

(Something my grandmother used to say.)


message 35: by Tara (new)

Tara Spears | 85 comments Kaje that was a lovely, lovely story, as all yours are. I agree though, these boys need their own novel.


message 36: by Kaje (new)

Kaje Harper | 16460 comments Tara wrote: "Kaje that was a lovely, lovely story, as all yours are. I agree though, these boys need their own novel."

Thanks :) Maybe someday...


message 37: by Tara (new)

Tara Spears | 85 comments I know...I am the same. Too many stories and not enough time. Plus it takes me a long time to write a novel.


message 38: by Wren (new)

Wren  (wrenreaders) they say two is company
and three's a crowd
but life is much more fun
when it is loud

so come with us
don't be alone
in happiness we
can find a home


message 39: by Kaje (new)

Kaje Harper | 16460 comments :) I'm glad you had a chance to come around and give us some of your poetry.


message 40: by Wren (new)

Wren  (wrenreaders) youre welcome! ive just been incredibly busy with school these last few months


message 41: by Kaje (new)

Kaje Harper | 16460 comments ♥★Julia wrote: "youre welcome! ive just been incredibly busy with school these last few months"

Are you on summer holiday now?


message 42: by Wren (new)

Wren  (wrenreaders) Kaje wrote: "♥★Julia wrote: "youre welcome! ive just been incredibly busy with school these last few months"

Are you on summer holiday now?"


yes :D


message 43: by Darren (new)

Darren (dwite) | 359 comments SHARE

I do not want to share you
I want you to myself
How can you say: "I love you"
I wonder for whom
You split yourself in half

I do not want to share bed
Or feel his arm around
How can you ever say that
Or even ask that I let
him... I might as well have drowned

My heart is halfway broken
That half is not for him
I give it you as a token
For after you have woken
I'll only be a dream.

-Darren


message 44: by Kaje (new)

Kaje Harper | 16460 comments Sad but I can see that also from this picture - cool to take it in a different direction.


message 45: by Jason (new)

Jason (jason_williams) | 732 comments Darren wrote: "SHARE

I do not want to share you
I want you to myself
How can you say: "I love you"
I wonder for whom
You split yourself in half

I do not want to share bed
Or feel his arm around
How can you ever..."


Aw, I feel sad for the one who is left out. But nice take on the picture. Thanks for sharing D.


message 46: by Darren (new)

Darren (dwite) | 359 comments *Bows*
You're welcome, J. :)


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