Kashael was staring again. Hanael was doing his best not to notice.

Khamuel sat between them, fussing with something handheld and clickable.

It was eerily quiet around the living room. Of course, to being so used to long stretches of silence, the immortals didn't seem to notice. Any living person would've walked into the room and felt like they were in a library or even a tomb.

Khamuel looked out the window, noting the position of the sun and the moon. The hours he kept seemed sporadic, but in all actuality, they were just as scheduled as anyone else's.

He yawned, catlike, covering his surprisingly pink mouth with one of his ghostly hands.

"I'm going to bed," he said, waiting either for Hanael to say something or come with him.

Unconsciously, Hanael looked to his brother before responding. It was a bit of a mistake, because Kash could say more with a blink than Hanael could say with a thousand words.

"Good night."

"Sweet dreams, mon petit lapin."

Khamuel looked at Kashael questioningly.

"It means rabbit," Hanael found himself replying. "He called you his little rabbit."

"You both speak...French?" Khamuel seemed sad.

"Among other tongues," Kash said, licking his lips and smiling.

Khamuel made a face and playfully shoved him, before yawning once more.

"Hanael?" he asked.

"I'll be up soon. I know you're tired."

Khamuel gave him a deep, albeit chaste, kiss before retreating up the stairs. Hanael waited until he heard the click of their bedroom lamp turning off before he spoke to Kash.

"What?"

"Well, that's direct."

"Don't. I know you too well." It sounded scolding, but Hanael was smiling the smallest smile.

"The look earlier? That's what you're asking about, correct?"

"Yes. You need to speak with me about something you didn't want to speak earlier."

"Back porch?" Kash suggested.

"If you couldn't talk about it with Khamuel here, perhaps we shouldn't talk about it at all."

"Don't be so harsh. Maybe I just want some privacy."

Hanael said nothing, simply choosing to walk to the back porch of his own accord.

Kash followed after, leggy as he was, and soon caught up.

He was on Hanael in little time, running a hand through his hair, kissing the white expanse of his neck, all while his left hand crept mischievously down the front of Hanael's pants.

"It's like coming home," he sighed into Hanael's ear.

"Kash..." he breathed. He ran out of air before he managed to tell him to stop. It felt so good, gods Kash was amazing with his hands.

He felt the sickly bitterness of guilt, felt as though he was cheating on Khamuel, and he realized Khamuel's feelings were more important than Hanael's physical pleasures.

"Kash, I'm, I can't, oh gods, Kash, oh, don't, stop."

All right, that wasn't quite what he meant to say.

"Stop," he whispered. "Stop, stop, this is wrong." He wasn't really talking to Kash anymore.

"If it was wrong, you would've stopped me already."

"It's only alright if Khamuel's with us."

"I won't give you up, Hanael."

Hanael said nothing. His silence was just that, and Kash found it hard to read what Hanael was feeling. If it was that jumbled to someone so well versed in trysts and emotions as Kash, he couldn't imagine how mixed up Hanael felt.

Hanael's aura was a miasma of lust, love, happiness, guilt and hesitation.

"Kash. I love him. I really do."

This time, Kash was silent. It still hurt to think of sharing Hanael's heart with anyone.

"And I love you, dear heart."

"I like that."

"Yes, you like to be loved, as we all do."

"No, you've called me heart. It's been awhile since you've done that."

There was no reply, other than a fly zipped shut. Hanael stood and headed to the first floor bathroom, grateful that there was a shower there. He didn't want to get any closer to Khamuel than he had to, not until he showered away the smell of sex, guilt, and of course, Kashael.

"Hanael, I know you'll ignore me. Pretend you can't hear me over the water, but I know there will be a time when I have my proper place in your heart. I'm sharing for now, because that's better than having none of you."

He could hear the overwhelming emotion in Kash's voice. He could feel the power contained in his brother's words.

"You're mine as much as I'm yours."

Kash had a way of making everything sound like a threat. The sort of tone that made Hanael feel so young and reminded him of how much he had once depended on his brother.

Hanael felt cold, despite the shower's steamy water. He wanted to stay in the shower forever, away from the complicated, three-cord knot he was tied into, away from the immortals that shared his damaged heart, and far, far away from the pain he knew was inevitable. It could be days or decades, but someone was going to get hurt. Badly.

But an eternal child older than gods and a man of pure, sexual energy waited. They waited to share his body the way they shared his heart, and he hated how good it all felt, when he was so sure that one of the three would end up alone.