Present

Okay two gremlins is not as easy as one would think. Right now, the elder one is complaining that the newer one isn’t healthy. Apparently, it’s too thin and needs to be fed. SO at 12:17 at night I am typing. I got up at around 5:30 this morning. So any grammar, spelling, and or minor plot point, sorry. They keys are jumping again.

Thank you fro reading my story and oh guess what…

Chris and Wyatt shameless smut.

If you review more I might have to find other ways fro them to meet up.

Chapter 20 (oh god, I’ve got a chapter 20 and still more to write)

Okay Phoebe knew she shouldn’t have just left Chris’ explanation at that. She was currently pacing her room, wearing a hole in her hard wood floor. She had just been at the club when he walked in and she followed. Now she wondered if she really wanted him to say yes.

No was so much safer. No meant that Wyatt hadn’t crossed that line that he had so clearly crossed. And Chris too. Chris should have said no. He should have looked her in the eyes and smirked. He should have told her off for even considering it. But he had just told…

The truth.

She hated the truth. It took away hope. Not totally but enough so that you could barely see it. It made it indistinguishable to the darkness that surrounded you and threatened to flood over you washing away your joy and self earned pain.

Closing her eyes, she fought back the tears that came knowing what she saw. She understood Wyatt’s control; Cole had felt the same way with the Source inside of him. She had done everything she could to save him but in the end, she had to stop him. Would it come down to that for Chris with Wyatt? Phoebe shook her head again. All her thoughts were getting jumbled up.

She could accept Wyatt was gay. She could accept that Wyatt loved Chris with all his heart and that Chris loved him back. But not brothers! Oh why couldn’t he have lied? Phoebe stopped for a moment. Going though her mind, she realized that Chris avoided direct lying. When she had cornered him, he had told the truth. Something about him was different then. Even with it, being news she didn’t want to hear his whole body language had changed.

He seemed more…like a white lighter. He looked a bit more like Leo. His eyes didn’t dart around looking for a crack in someone’s amour or the next demon. He was, at that moment, for the first time to her, Chris.

“Christopher Perry Halliwell.” Quietly she tried out the name. Piper got her P. “Chris.” She said it again as she knew she would when she met him again. He would be born. He would grow up in this house. He would have sex with his brother in their mother’s club…

God why did it…why did she have to see that. No, why did she have to hear Wyatt’s name. If it had been like normal, she would have just thought she was seeing Chris with his lover again. But their lives were rarely normal and Chris was no exception. He had seemed so young. Even though he looked 17 something about him screamed innocent. Maybe Chris was. Maybe that’s why at 22 he was coming back to save Wyatt. Maybe he didn’t see it before. Wyatt could have stopped him from seeing. Cole had for her for a while.

She just hoped he would be alright. She sat down on her bed exhausted form walking but still loving the fact that she could again. She needed to talk to Chris. Maybe not about this. Maybe about a demon. Start slow. She needed the whole story before she blew up at … her … nephew.

Phoebe flopped down on the comforter. She was going to end up in the loony bin.

Chris laid back on the couch exhausted. He was so in trouble it wasn’t even worth trying to laugh at it this time. He was in clear shit. Phoebe knew now. She had asked and he had told the truth. Why? He wanted to scream at himself for it. He wanted to use his spell and go back to an hour ago and fix it. But time would probably get pretty pissed at him and then, oh just thinking about the loop was driving his headache to a migraine.

He was just glad that at least Phoebe hadn’t noticed his fever. He couldn’t seem to shake it. He really didn’t want to ask Leo to heal him. Or another white lighter. Rumor had it that Leo was trying to get him sent home right now. Chris smirked. It wasn’t exactly easy. The whole council would be needed and they might have a shot if Chris didn’t fight them.

They didn’t know just how powerful the little half witch was. Chris was itching to show Leo. Send him to the underworld the old fashion way like…no he wasn’t thinking like that. But he did know where the sword was. It would be easy. Just go grab it and head home. He could use it to boost his powers.

He could go home. Be safe and loved again. He could curl up in his bed with Wyatt and fall asleep. Let Wyatt figure it out in the morning and then have a nice round of tie-up-make-up. Tie-up-Make-up had worked before. It could again. He could be snuggled in the warm strong arms of Merk.

No Merk wasn’t a protector. He was dead anyways. Chris tried to figure where that came from. He did realize that he had flicked the lights off with his powers and now sat in near darkness. The light under the door would allow him to make his way about the room without tripping. He lifted his hand up, palm facing the ceiling and drew forth an orb. It shone like all the others he made did. It lit the room until it became friendly and comfortable again. But part of him wanted to extinguish it and curl back against the leathers.

Chris cocked his head to one side as if listening for his brother’s footsteps. Someone was fooling with his mind. Maybe it was the fever? The silence that greeted him was deafening and his eyes darkened with worry. He was in the back of a club filled with half drunk dancers and a band. His thoughts were cut short when his falling head hit his pillow.


Wyatt walked into the manor with fear. Any moment now, he would be seeing a dead brother materialize. Maybe Chris would have enough strength to blame him. All he really had to do was look in Wyatt direction either with eyes that shone with hate, or with love. Chris rarely used to hide him emotions. He wouldn’t in death. Wyatt traced his fingers along the wall until it came into contact with something sticky. Pulling his hand away he noticed the blood now easily in the bright sunlight. It covered the walls of the hall in splashes and was the dark crimson of human. Few demons bore this colour. But strangely, a few moments ago he would have sworn it was night.

Wyatt heard a sob and bolted into the living room. Maybe Chris was still alive. Maybe he could heal him. Hold him so close to block any other from even seeing him. No one would ever touch his angel again. His cherub, kept safe this time.

Wyatt tripped and landed on his knees two feet from the sobbing pair.

A boy.

Blond.

No older then 18.

His dark shirt covered in the remains of battle.

Holding another boy.

Darker.

No older then 16.

He looked younger though.

His eyes were shell shocked as tear flooded down his cheeks.

His white shirt torn and burnt in places from the attack.

A Sword laid a few feet from them in the other direction.

It was covered in blood.

They were covered with blood.

Some theirs.

A lot wasn’t.

Neither took notice of the intruder. Wyatt felt himself shudder. He didn’t want to be here again. This was the first time he had so truly failed. He hated fate and his own mind for pushing it in his face.

He didn’t have Chris to scare away these thoughts anymore. He couldn’t look over at Chris and repeat in his head, ‘This is what I’m protecting. This is my purpose.’ He didn’t have his soul mate. He was only half of what he should be. Tears threatened to fall as he looked over at the sword. It was his fault that it was covered with blood. Chris and he had both used it to kill. The only reason Chris could wield it was because of him.

No, he shook his head. That wasn’t his fault. He had to fuse it’s magic into Chris. He wasn’t able to heal him any other way.

In truth, he didn’t know why he actually saw blood on it now. On both of them. When the fight was over the only blood had been their own. White lighters and Elders didn’t bleed when killed. Wyatt forced back another sob and tried to stand. He had enough of this nightmare and wanted out!

Wyatt stood with his eyes closed with all intent on walking out of the house like that. He didn’t want to see his brother sobbing. Himself so weak. So unable to protect him as he promised to.

“He’s your little brother Wyatt. You’re supposed to keep him safe.” His father’s voice whole and alive cut though as he reopened his eyes. His younger self was being lectured by the absent father. “You are not supposed to take him to the under world with you to vanquish demons.”

Wyatt smiled at the happy memories this lecture brought up. Chris could take on a demon easily. No one but him knew it of course at the time. No one believed little 13-year-old Wyatt when he told them that no, he hadn’t killed the dark lighter. It had been Chris’ spell. So, when he needed to destroy another demon he had asked Chris to help him. His shadow had happily agreed even when Wyatt had told him to say within three feet of him while down there. Just in case, they needed the shield.

Wyatt turned his eyes to the now clean walls and wondered if the dream would be done soon. It wasn’t really something he was so ready to leave as before he was. He liked seeing Chris watching form the doorway. His eyes sparked with mischief with two cookies hidden in the front pocket of his sweater. Chris had grabed one for each of them. Something to make Wyatt feel better after Leo was done and went back to ‘where he was needed’.

Wyatt moved to try and go into the kitchen. Maybe he could see his younger brother clearly again. Even just in a dream. See his eyes dance with true innocents and mischief. See him eat his cookie with the joy that only a child had when given a treat they loved.

But the figure hugging itself on the couch stopped him dead. Chris looked pale and shaking. His face was covered in sweat as he tried to stay upright. Wyatt slowly walked up to him. He didn’t notice when the younger versions of them disappeared, no longer needed to entertain the older version.

Chris was dressed in some sort of weird shirt. It looked like a t-shirt over a long sleeve shirt but Wyatt knew they were attached. His brother had his eyes closed and was trying to warm himself up. Sitting down on the couch, Wyatt pulled the blanket off the back and wrapped it around his brother.

Chris’ eyes turned to him and seemed to wait. An eternity passed in a few heartbeats before Chris let himself lean against Wyatt and be held. Wyatt rubbed his hands up and down over the blanket hoping to create some friction to warm the trembling child. Chris looked like the last time he had seem him. Except he was able to breath due to a lack of magic trying to do otherwise.

Chris snuggled into the welcoming embrace. Wyatt would protect him. He felt his brother’s power run though him taking the edge off the fever. He was still in its grasp but could at least function now. He felt hot but no longer envisioned himself in the middle of a raging fire.

Wyatt cuddled and shushed his lil’ cherub. HE kept his hands moving until they were inside of the blanket and one was now rest8ing on Chris back under his shirt. This skin felt like it was smoldering. His lips instinctively made for Chris’ in an attempt to keep him still and comfortable.

Chris melted into the kiss. He missed Wyatt’s tender lips against his own. He loved to kiss for hours like they used to. He loved to just close his eyes and remember how Wyatt and him would spend hours on the couch or even in bed kissing. Never going further then that most of the time. Their breaths would mingle and be lost to the others.

Wyatt lips parted taking Chris’ with them as he leisurely slid his tongue in. Chris didn’t taste like sugar this time. He tasted like he had just brushed his teeth with something minty. He tasted like fresh morning hellos and good nights. Watt raised his hands to Chris’ face and tiled his head. The slanting allowed Wyatt to enter his mouth more and find the ticklish spot inside. He knew it wasn’t overly sensitive like the rest of Chris but wanted to see it still there. He heard Chris’ breath hitch and pulled him closer. Their bodies were only separated by two sets of clothes and a thick blanket. Wyatt knew he really needed to get his dream going in the right direction if he wanted to enjoy it.

Carefully he picked Chris up and got off the couch. Carrying Chris, he walked up the stairs and in to he master bedroom. He laid Chris down on the bed before taking a quick look around. His stuff wasn’t here. The pictures and covers were their mothers but Wyatt was too far-gone to care. He needed to feel Chris.

Wyatt unwrapped the present before him. The blanket came off easily but the pout it left gave Wyatt a darker look. His cherub was cold even with his insides on fire. Wyatt moved his body to cover Chris’. He rubbed against him as a cat would to create the heat his brother so desired.

While jeans and shirts still separated them, Wyatt’s mouth wasn’t idle. He moved to kiss Chris’ neck. When he had barely touched the joint between the shoulder and neck Chris jumped form pain. Wyatt sat up quickly and turned his head gently to see the injury.

A dark purplish burse that seemed to be navy blue, almost black in the center, loomed up at him. Why would he dream Chris injured? His only explanation to himself was that he was thinking about it when he went to bed.

Gently he kissed the spot better. As his energies flowed through the cherub, he frowned. His powers indeed helped the injury but Chris’ body wasn’t full rid of it. It was like there was something in between his power and Chris. The best thing his mind could settle on was that this was a dream. So nothing needed to make sense.

Wyatt sat back on his knees over top of Chris’ panting body and moved lower. His hand moved out as his legs rested on Chris’ thighs. He drew the shirt up and exposed his stomach. Kissing Chris’ belly button cause the most delightful squirms from the cherub. His kitten needed to be petted.

He kept his lips locked on Chris body as he moved upwards. He finally got Chris’ shirt off mostly and pulled him up to get it over his head. Wyatt slid it off his neck but not off his arms. Now with the shirt behind his body, Chris’ arms were sufficiently locked in place. Handcuffs wouldn’t have worked as good.

Chris’ eyes were half closed from the fever of sickness and passion. Wyatt ‘s mouth passed over one of his nipples before his teeth bit down hard. HE could almost taste the blood. Another bit and he could. Chris had made a whimpering sound in the back of his throat and was struggling to get away.

Wyatt turned his head threateningly up at Chris, locking eyes. The cherub stopped moving. He could hear both of their bloods running for dear life in both bodies. The question was where would life lead them?

Wyatt released Chris’ eyes and moved slightly down. With skill from practice, Wyatt quickly undid Chris’ pants and pulled them easily down. His sweat damp body caught the jeans just above the knees and Wyatt let them stay there. He moved so his mouth was right above Chris’ weeping head and licked.

He started to attack the organ with licks and small love bites. Never closing his teeth around it, just letting Chris know that he did indeed have them. Wyatt nuzzled the coarse hair that surrounded his brother’s sex and breathed in his scent. He could almost think it was real from that alone. His mind had memorized every part of Chris it could.

Wyatt had to hold down Chris hips before he got a bloody nose. His lover was impatient again. He wanted to cum. Wyatt pulled off with a wet sucking sound. Chris just lay there panting, glaring down at the devil himself for stopping.

“Please.” Wyatt’s eyes locked onto Chris as the glare disappeared, replaced by a whisper of a voice. “Please make me.” Chris raised his hip a little off the mattress to show his need. Wyatt never thought he could be harder. Chris eyes showed he wanted, needed, loved, and trusted Wyatt.

Wyatt’s arms started to work automatically. The jeans were gone from Chris body with a speed that only existed in this finely contained world. Wyatt quickly stripped himself of the offending cloth by nearly tearing it from his body. His clothes were tossed haphazardly across the room as he crawled up Chris’ body. Wyatt took Chris’ legs and bent them over his arms. He didn’t have anything but his own precum to slick himself with so he brought one of his hands down to make the most of it. Chris watched as Wyatt touched himself. He saw Wyatt take the head of his own cock and glide it down to the base. The Chris made the mistake of looking up at Wyatt’s eyes. He was locked there as all of Wyatt was shown to him. He saw the boy who grew up too fast, the lover too many time betrayed and the witch who played god.

Wyatt felt the slickness and decided that he wanted Chris was tight as he could have him. Without another thought, he slung Chris’ legs back over each arm and positioned himself at Chris’ entrance. At a snail's pace, Wyatt entered Chris. He felt the tightness surround him and take his breath.

He was finally fully in with Chris struggling a bit beneath him. He could tell Chris was trying to break free, his arms and lower waist. Chris wanted more. Wyatt was making him suffer.

Smiling Wyatt pulled out slowly and pushed back in. All the time he watched Chris’ face. He watched as Chris’ eyes screwed shut one moment from the pain, the next as his mouth gasped open and eyelids relaxed from the pleasure.

Pain and pleasure walked hand in hand for Chris. Wyatt knew his brother truly didn’t see much of a difference. Only trust made him cum. Knowledge that the person with you loved and cherished you. Wyatt had loved him from the first birth of their souls. He would until the last and final death.

Wyatt sped up a bit as his own body groaned from the pace. His mouth moved over Chris and sucked on his bottom lip, nearly crushing Chris with his weight. He attacked the mouth and face. Chris’ jaw became red from the bits that Wyatt teeth made and the hickies that his lips left.

His arms let Chris’ legs slide off. Assured that Chris’ body wasn’t going anywhere when Wyatt felt those strong legs wrap around himself and try to push him deeper. Wyatt gave Chris what he wanted. Now that his hands were free again one went up at tangle in sweat damp hair while the other mover between the joined bodies. Wyatt found what he was looking for and fisted it in time with is thrusts.

“God.” Chris’ voice was a whisper of a prayer. EH couldn’t feel a part of him that Wyatt wasn’t making his own. “Wyatt please…” Wyatt obeyed his small god and moved faster. He wanted to feel Chris cum between their bodies, while he came inside. Wyatt’s mouth stayed away from Chris. Eh wanted to hear him scream. His please were gently getting louder and more urgent. Wyatt knew that if he stopped right now it would drive Chris insane. But also himself. He didn’t. Not for a moment. Wyatt kept his pace even as his back started to ach from the strain of only the lower past off him moving, and so fat.

Wyatt felt the wave and filled his lover. Chris crashed and coated their bodies and Wyatt’s hand with is own. Collapsing onto of Chris Wyatt starred at his calming brother. This was where they belonged. This was where they began. It was where they were going to end.

-tbc

Please review. I have two gremlins to feed now. You want to show them both how much you love them and then they with make me type about how (He he he) Wyatt loves Chris.

Thank you.