Their Little Beauty (MxMxM+)

Chapter Fifty-Two: Self-Reflection and Desired Lessons

"I wanna die" Briar groaned, the force from his head slamming down onto the dining table rattling the cutlery.

"Don't say that" Devon scolded, folding his project report in half and slapping the back of the sulking man's head.

Briar was not in a good mood. Not at all. After spending a week vomiting, coughing, shivering with a fever and groaning from persistent body aches, he had finally beaten off the worst of the flu. But now, that left him in the 'ugh, kill me' stage.

Also known as, the recovery process.

"Here you go, baby" Quinn smiled, placing a bowl down and kissing his boy's cheek afterwards.

It was porridge. Again. For the fourth day in a row, twice a day. It had been all his stomach would keep down but looking into the bowl now had Briar swallowing heavily.

I miss... flavour. And a texture that isn't so... thick.

But he couldn't complain, not with his daddy standing at his side with a warm smile, waiting patiently for the submissive to dig in and get back to good health. 

"Mmm, thanks Daddy. I was really hungry" he lied, focusing on the pleased look upon Quinn's face as he lifted a full spoon to his mouth, chewed slightly on the plain oats before swallowing.

I used to love this, why is it making me feel sick now? No, no, come on, keep it down, Daddy's watching!

"Love, could you go check if the washing machine is okay? It sounds like Jesse put a rock in there and it's about to explode" Devon asked.

"He wouldn't have done that" the dark-skinned man laughed, then frowned. "Well, they did accidentally put coins in there which fucked the last one completely. Still... surely not again?".

"It's Jesse we're talking about, Love; anything is possible".

"Oh, come on- he isn't that bad. Remember that time you two ruined..."

Briar took a relieving moment from eating to watch the two husbands. It always left him feeling mushy, watching their interactions. The way Quinn leaned against the edge of the table, hands on Devon's waist as the more dominant lover stood between his legs, brushing the eldest lover's curls behind his ears as they spoke. 

And they always smiled at one another, even if it was as small as a twitch at the very corner of their lips or a more subtle sparkle in their eyes. It was beautiful and heart-warming and as much as Briar enjoyed watching the two men subconsciously show their adoration for one another, in the back of his mind was a different, less sweet, thought:

Did Jesse feel the same... longing, as he did? To have that title of husband, that connection in both legality and heart? He knew that marriage didn't particularly make a relationship stronger or fuller of love, yet there was no denying that it could be very special. 

Once again after having that a train of thought, Briar immediately felt ashamed of the audacity he inwardly showed at questioning such things and turned his gaze to the floor when it became blurry by tears.

How dare he expect to have something even close to what the three shared, when he was still so new to their relationship? Two were married and all three had promised themselves to each other with engagement rings and a small, private ceremony that although wasn't recognised by law, bound them for eternity. They were bound, not through a shared marriage, but by love.

It had been over a year since Briar had met Jesse, yes, but less time still since romantic feelings and confessions for them all came into the mix. Briar was still, in his mind, the least important lover in this relationship. And if one of them, for whatever reason, had to part ways with the others... of course, it would be him. He was- or he felt he was- the expendable one. The replaceable one. The least lov-