Chapter Text
Bass splashes his face with cold water and stares into the sink. The night is winding down, and he’s just had an incredibly memorable evening with his two favorite people, but he still can’t shake off the sense of foreboding that’s been steadily growing in him all day. As he preps for bed, he realizes he’s feeling especially anxious about what might happen after he falls asleep tonight. At this point, there’s no knowing where or what he’ll wake up to tomorrow.
He can only pray he’ll wake up here again, surrounded by his two lovers and the picture perfect life they’ve built together, but the sinking feeling in his gut keeps telling him he’ll probably end up back in the blackout - with the real versions of Charlie and Miles, who most of the time do little more than tolerate Bass, even on a good day.
And then there’s Rachel. And her dad. And the fucking Patriots...and all the other bullshit that comes with that world. Bass has no idea how he’ll go back to that, not after his experience today and this unfair glimpse into what life could be.
Dude, get a grip. You’re spiraling, he mentally reprimands himself before raising his head to look in the mirror.
His knees nearly buckle when his eyes meet the glass.
“Bass,” Emma Bennett says as she quietly stands behind him.
He frantically whirls around, only to find that it’s just him in the bathroom. Heart pounding so hard he can practically hear it, he whips back around to face the mirror.
She’s there again, just behind his own reflection.
“Emma….” Hot tears immediately sting his eyes. She looks stoic and beautiful, and she’s wearing the same thing she wore the night she died. He knows she’s just a mirage, but the memory of that night unexpectedly assaults his mind all over again.
And then, all of a sudden, Bass remembers everything. All the missing pieces:
The Patriots finding and capturing him. The bitter goodbyes he exchanged with Miles just hours before his death. His last words to Charlie and the look on her face before he was marched into the courthouse to take his last breath. The cold disbelief in Rachel’s dead eyes when he told her he was sorry. The dozens of grimy townspeople who gathered that night to watch as Gene Porter stuck a deadly needle in his arm….
Sebastian Monroe is dead.
He died in Willoughby, Texas by public execution - lethal-fucking-injection, of all things.
And this whole alternate reality - this happy little hallucination he’s been having all day? He realizes now that it’s actually his own personal hell.
Because none of it’s real.
Just a dream. Or really, more like a nightmare.
“Bass,” Emma repeats, her voice calm and composed as she reins in his attention.
He swallows hard and forces himself to look at her.
She smiles, but her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “I know what you’re thinking.”
‘What?’ He wants to say, but he can’t get it out. His mouth feels like it’s been sealed shut.
“You’re not dead.”
A bitter, disbelieving puff of laughter escapes him, and he shakes his head. Of course, he thinks, every part of him feeling defeated. Even in death, the universe is nothing but cruel to him. And why wouldn’t it be? This is what he deserves.
“It’s not what you think. I promise.”
He has to stop himself from rolling his eyes. He's too damn old and tired for this bullshit. “I remember dying, Emma. It was Rachel Matheson and her goddamn dad. They made a whole fucking spectacle out of it.”
“They did, but they didn’t actually kill you.”
“I remember fucking dying!” He yells, his unpredicted rage so strong that the words come out in a hoarse whisper. His entire body vibrates with frustrated fury, and he can feel himself slowly inching toward the version of himself that he hates more than anything or anyone else in the world.
Emma, however, remains perfectly calm.
The space between them crackles with tension.
“You’re trapped inside your own mind, Bass. What you’re seeing right now is all just a figment of your imagination; your mind’s way of showing you your deepest desires.”
“And what? My deepest desire is to play house with Miles and his fucking niece?”
“There’s no need to get defensive or angry, Sebastian, especially not with me. I’m a part of your mind, too. By lying to me, you’re only lying to yourself.”
He exhales an exasperated breath and clenches his jaw. Fuck this shit. And fuck her for knowing his deepest, darkest wants.
Emma steps closer and almost puts her hand on his shoulder, but then she retreats. “I always knew you didn’t want power or status. That guy you became - that wasn’t you, Bass. You’re still the sweet, wonderful man I loved, who just wants to be loved in return.”
She’s not wrong, but it hurts too much to talk to her about any of this.
She smiles sadly at him. “She did it, you know.”
“Who did?” He frowns. “Did what?”
“Charlotte. You told her to take care of Miles, and she did. He still loves you, Bass. You know he’s never been good at admitting his feelings, especially not after everything that happened between you. But Charlie helped Miles finally acknowledge it.”
When Bass doesn’t answer, Emma continues.
“And I promise, there’s a good chance she’ll come to love you, too. You can have all this - with both of them. But you have to try harder. You have to be better.”
Bass feels frozen. He’s hearing her words, but they all sound wrong. Maybe, just maybe, Miles could love him again. With enough distance and time. But Charlie? Not Charlie. Not after everything he’s done.
Maybe here, in this world, where he’s just a harmless ex-Marine trying to make it the business world, it's somehow possible. But out there, in the real world, where he’s still an ex-dictator, responsible for countless acts of destruction and death? Including the death of her father and brother?
There’s no goddamned way.
Soldering next to him as a brother in arms is one thing. Maybe she can do that. Has already done that. But loving him?
Even if Emma is right and he somehow gets another chance to go back, there’s no way he’ll get the affection and love he’s always craved - probably never again from Miles, and certainly not from Charlie.
There’s only one thing left for him to hang onto, and that’s the fact that his son is out there somewhere....
“Goodbye, Bass.” Emma’s image in the mirror starts to fade. “I love you.”
“Emma, wait! I love you, too. Please, before you go…where is our son? Please! You have to tell m- ”
But it’s too late.
She vanishes just as quickly as she first appeared, and he’s left standing in front of the mirror, completely alone.
His heart nearly leaps out of his chest when there’s a sudden knock on the bathroom door.
“Bass?”
It’s Miles.
“Yeah...just - just a second!” Bass swallows the lump in his throat and pushes his fingers through his hair.
“You okay? Who are you talking to?”
“I’m fine, Miles. It’s...nothing. I’ll be out in a second.”
Bass hears Charlie’s muffled voice on the other side of the wall and then the sound of Miles climbing into bed with her.
Bass’s heart is pounding, and he can feel his blood rushing through his veins.
He takes a good, long moment to regain his composure after that terrifying encounter with Emma’s ghost - or whatever the fuck that was. He’s still not really sure. But he makes the decision that he will never, under any circumstance, share what just happened with Miles or Charlie.
What good would it do?
He exhales a sharp breath and steels himself before opening the bathroom door.
“Finally,” Charlie pouts at him when he walks back into their bedroom.
She and Miles are already in bed, and both of them are naked. Miles intimately spoons her from behind and presses kisses into the side of her neck while she giggles and squirms and stares at her phone.
“Get over here, brother,” Miles demands as he reaches over Charlie and pulls back the covers, simultaneously revealing Charlie’s lean body to Bass’s gaze.
He watches, transfixed, as Miles’s cunning hand seductively slides down her taut stomach to the apex of her thighs.
She hums wordless encouragement to her uncle as he grabs her leg and hitches it over his thigh to open her up, then uses his fingers to part her already moistened pussy lips.
Bass can’t tear his eyes away as Miles fondles her clit, then pushes one long finger inside of her and possessively cups her mound. The gesture elicits a wanton moan from Charlie.
Bass feels his heart rate increase and his stomach tightens with want.
There are still about a billion thoughts warring inside his mind, but there’s one thought in particular that keeps pushing past all the others to the forefront:
Regardless of anything - whether he really is dead, or alive, or something in between; whether anything Emma said holds any shred of merit - he can’t deny the overwhelming, aching need he feels for the two people in front of him.
He needs them tonight. Needs to touch them. Taste them. Needs to relish the feel of their skin against his own.
Even if - or especially if - tomorrow, all of this is gone.
*
Charlie puts her phone aside and lets out a happy squeal when Bass strips off his clothes and climbs into bed. She immediately reaches for him, fingers dancing across his bare skin as she pulls him in for a kiss.
Wasting no time, she licks at the seam of his lips, silently begging for entrance, while Miles’s lips lazily travel up and down her spine.
She moans and sighs as soon as her tongue meets Bass’s, then yelps into his mouth when Miles takes a trip to the bottom half of the bed and situates his smug face between her legs.
“Miles,” she whines, temporarily breaking away from Bass’s mouth. She pants hard and shudders as Miles swipes his tongue across her slit.
“I got you, baby girl,” he mumbles into her pussy. “You take care of Bass while I take care of you.”
“Mmm, okay,” she replies, happy to do as she’s been told.
She brings her mouth back to Bass’s while her fingers find their way to his already throbbing cock.
“Fuck, Charlotte,” Bass rasps into her mouth. His hips rise involuntarily and he begins to thrust into her hand as she lovingly strokes his shaft and caresses his balls.
Her lips stretch into a smile against his mouth while she continues her handiwork, the pace she sets steady and deliberate.
Meanwhile, Miles continues his work down south, his ruthless tongue swiping brutally over Charlie’s engorged clit.
Judging by the sounds she keeps making, Bass knows exactly what Miles is doing down there: alternating between licking and sucking, pushing his tongue inside of her, and occasionally taking her clit between his teeth, which leaves her whimpering and begging for more.
“Oh, shit!” She yelps, her hands temporarily forgetting their assignment on Bass’s cock as she frantically tangles her fingers in Miles’s thick, dark hair. “Uncle Miles!”
Bass doesn’t mind, though, and simply leans down to suck on her stiff, pink nipples, one at a time, while she continues to pull on Miles’s hair.
She comes hard in his salacious mouth.
“Mmm...that’s my girl,” Miles growls, greedily lapping up her warm juices before kissing his way back up her body. He then grabs Bass by the hair and yanks his mouth away from Charlie’s tits, eliciting a mewl from her and a deep groan from Bass as he drifts somewhere between pain and pleasure.
Miles stares at his best friend with lust-darkened eyes. The look on his face holds a dominant, almost predatory gleam, and the corner of his mouth twitches into a lopsided smirk. He lowers his lips to Bass’s.
Bass welcomes his mouth, and his heart swells with emotion as he experiences the familiar sensation of kissing Miles again. Jesus Christ, he missed this. It’s been so long. Far too fucking long.
He immediately recognizes the taste of Charlie’s pussy on Miles’s lips and lets out a grunt of gratitude before he zealously sucks her off of Miles’s tongue; he only breaks away when the need for air becomes too great for both of them.
“Shit, Miles. I can taste her on you.”
Charlie scoots out of the way to watch them, and Miles chuckles before dragging his kiss-bruised lips down to the pulse point beneath Bass’s jawline. “She tastes sweet, doesn’t she?” He licks the words into Bass’s neck.
“So sweet.”
“I’ve got another flavor combo in mind that I think you’ll like even better.”
“Miles,” Charlie playfully protests as she drags her nails down the planes of Miles’s sinewy back. “C’mon, I wanna play with Bass, too.”
Miles smirks and lets her manhandle him as she impatiently pushes him out of her way and settles herself on all fours in front of Bass, her pouty lips hovering dangerously above his cockhead.
She winks at him, then bends lower, her mischief smile sending a jolt of heat straight to his already aching dick. Miles settles in behind her, his eyes trained on the both of them as he rubs his own swollen cock up and down Charlie’s slit.
Bass hisses out his appreciation the second her hot mouth surrounds his sensitized skin.
“Oh yeah, just like that, baby,” he encourages, threading his fingers in her long, golden hair so he can hold it up and away from her face; it gives him a better view and lets him see exactly what she’s doing with her beautiful mouth.
Miles watches, too, as she bobs up and down on Bass’s cock. He urges her on by massaging the soft, youthful globes of her ass while he lazily fucks her from behind.
Charlie is a champ as she takes Bass’s lengthy cock deeper and deeper into the warm, wet channel of her throat and mouth. Between that and the rhythmic sound of Miles’s skin slapping against hers, Bass is certain he’s about to blow his load. Hard.
“Charlie,” he warns, his ass and pelvis jumping off the mattress in time with her movements. He throws his head back and curses as the pressure builds in his balls.
Miles still has his cock buried deep inside her pussy, and Bass can tell by the hard lines of determination on his face, along with his now-frantic thrusts, that he, too, is on the verge of his own eruption.
“Goddamnit, I’m gonna come,” Bass warns once more, but Charlie - sweet, talented, dirty little Charlie - is completely ready for him.
She coughs and retches but never relents, letting him shoot his thick, hot cum down her throat, and she doesn't pull away until the very last ripple of his climax has successfully sizzled through his body.
Then she releases him with a dramatic pop and topples onto him, her exhausted mouth landing against his sweaty lower abdomen as she closes her eyes and licks her lips clean.
“Miles!” She then sobs out, her body stiffening as her uncle digs his fingers into her hips.
Miles bellows out something gruff and primitive before he thrusts hard one last time and brazenly empties himself inside of her.
“Fuck.” He pulls out and collapses next to her, every one of his long, lean muscles coated in sweat, his cock softening but still glistening with their combined fluids. He sucks in several deep breaths and tries to recover. “Fuck, you feel so good, kid.”
“Love you,” Charlie sighs.
“Love you, too,” Miles replies through panted breath.
Charlie then turns her attention back to Bass. She stares at him with hooded eyes - a long, intimate eyefuck, before she slowly crawls up to the top of the bed.
She arranges a couple of pillows along the headboard, then sits back against them, her sex-mussed hair framing her glowing face like she’s a goddamned angel. When she lets her legs fall open, Bass is met by the sight of her deliciously pink, cum-smeared pussy.
His mouth instantly waters.
“Are you hungry?” Her voice is seductive; her expression, knowing.
“Starved,” Bass growls back, licking his lips as his stomach tightens.
He feels his cock pulsating back to life as he brings his face between her soft, smooth thighs. His eyes close in reverent appreciation, and he breathes deeply, taking in the heady scent.
Miles’s chuckle is wicked and throaty as he props himself up onto his side to get a better view. His free hand moves up and down the length of his cock in leisured strokes.
Bass licks his lips again and lowers his mouth to Charlie’s cunt.
Nostalgia hits him hard the second his tongue touches Miles’s cum, and for a moment, he is transported to what now feels like a completely different lifetime:
Their freshmen dorm room. Their shared living quarters on base at Parris Island. The backseat of Miles’s car. Their offices and the library at Independence Hall.
Bass can’t even count all the times he spent on his knees, greedily sucking Miles dry until his knees were bruised and his throat was sore.
He’s always been a hungry captive for Miles’s cum, but the powerless greed he feels right now, in this exact moment?
This is in a league of its own.
The taste of Miles and Charlie together is pure, potent intoxication. Bass nearly laughs because of course - of course his two favorite Mathesons would combine to create a flavor that is the dirtiest, most delectable thing. Total, carnal, incestuous magnificence.
His tongue can’t get enough of Charlie’s tangy sweetness juxtaposed with Miles’s salty bitterness, and the longer and harder Bass licks at Charlie’s swollen folds, the more ravenous he finds himself becoming. He’s like a druggie, desperate for a fix. Completely and utterly helpless.
“I fucking knew you’d like that,” Miles mumbles wetly into Bass’s ear before running his tongue along the outer shell.
Bass shudders. He was so immersed in his own task of tasting Miles on Charlie’s pussy that he didn’t even notice when Miles got up and draped himself over Bass’s body from behind.
“She tastes even better like this, doesn’t she, Bass?” He kisses the side of Bass’s face and runs a hand through his hair before he sits back on his haunches and rakes his calloused fingers down his back.
Bass groans and trembles when Miles parts his asscheeks and strategically circles his sphincter with his thumb.
“Miles...stop distracting him,” Charlie sulks, even as her breath comes out in shuddery waves, her own pleasure steadily coiling and building in her belly.
“Sorry, kid, I can’t help myself.” Miles grins, unrepentant, while his fingers continue their play.
“So close.” Charlie grabs fistfuls of Bass’s hair. “Bass, don’t stop! Please! Lick right there. Yes! Just like that.”
Bass chuckles into her heat. He loves her like this - all strung out and needy. And it’s adorable that she feels the need to beg - especially since it’s completely unnecessary. He has zero plans to go anywhere, not until she comes.
Her clit is a delectable little jewel in his mouth, and now that he’s done lapping up every last drop of Miles from her skin, he can fully focus his attention on giving her the kind of cataclysmic orgasm she craves.
And cataclysmic is exactly what it is.
“Bass! Oh my God! Fuck!” She screams as her eyes slam shut.
He's got two fingers buried inside of her so he can stroke her g-spot while his tongue remains steady and relentless against her clit. She bucks and convulses against his face, unraveling magnificently as her warm, intoxicant juices gush into his eager mouth. He drinks down everything she has to offer.
He eventually backs off, but not before giving her a few more sinful licks - just light, gentle teases with the flat of his tongue to soothe her as she shivers through her aftershocks until finally, she pushes him away from her skin.
“Alright, I can’t wait any longer. Need to fuck you now, Bass,” Miles says as he spreads Bass’s cheeks farther apart. He already took his time and primed him with lubed fingers while Bass ate Charlie out, but Bass still sucks in a sharp breath when Miles pushes his huge, lube-coated cock into his ass.
“Shit, Miles.” Bass exhales as his body adjusts to Miles’s girth. Every cell in his body sings at their reunion.
He’s on all fours now, and he can feel the delightful press of Miles’s thighs against the back of his own.
“You good?” Miles sets an unhurried pace and reaches around to wrap his fingers around Bass’s cock.
Shivers bolt up and down Bass's spine. “So good, brother.”
“Mmm, this is my favorite part,” Charlie sighs, attentively watching the two men.
Bass drags his gaze back up to look at her.
She’s still sitting up near the headboard, legs spread wide, pussy pink and swollen. She’s all loose and relaxed and looks thoroughly debauched as she licks her lips and lazily massages her tits.
“I love you both so much,” she says. “And seeing you together makes me so happy.”
“Love you, too. Both of you. Now, Charlie, get over here and help Bass out,” Miles commands through gritted teeth. His breathing has become more labored and his thrusts keep getting more aggressive.
Bass knows all the signs. Miles is right on the edge.
“Yes, Uncle Miles.” Charlie complies, sliding over to grab Bass’s cock.
Her long, slender fingers wrap around his poor, pulsing member, and she gives him several purposeful tugs while she bites her bottom lip in determined concentration.
He's so fucking turned on, though, and so overstimulated, that a few tugs is all it takes. His orgasm hits him like a rattling clap of thunder, and he shamelessly shoots cum all over Charlie's hand and onto the sheets, just as Miles empties himself in his ass.
They all collapse together in one big, satisfied heap - three sets of limbs delightfully tangled together in a sweaty, sticky mess. Their combined, distinct scent burns the air around them.
Bliss, Bass thinks, as sleep hangs heavy on his eyelids.
No matter where he wakes up tomorrow, he already knows: it’s this memory, this exact sex-drenched moment with these two glorious souls, that he’ll hang onto for the rest of his life.
In this life, or any other.
- - -
“Bass…”
Is that Miles? It sounds like Miles....
“Hey.”
Yup, it’s definitely Miles.
Or at least - it’s what Bass imagines Miles would sound like if he was inside a giant tin can.
What the fuck is going on? And why is everything so echoey?
“Look at me.”
‘I’m trying, brother,’ he wants to reply, but everything around him feels foggy, like he’s trapped inside his own body, unable to control any of his motor functions.
It takes an unreasonable amount of effort to flutter his eyes open, but he somehow succeeds.
He finds himself in a flimsy, uncomfortable bed - hardly more than a glorified cot with a filthy blanket draped over him.
Damn it. He’s definitely back in the blackout.
Miles is there, though, and his face, surprisingly, is etched with genuine concern - the same genuine concern Bass saw on his face when he woke up in his dream.
It’s not much, but the look on Miles’s face is still enough to fill Bass’s chest with hope. He manages a weak smile. “Hey, buddy.”
“How much did you give him?”
It’s Charlie who speaks this time, and the question is directed at her mother, who is also there, rummaging around behind Miles.
Rachel says something, but Bass only catches half of it...some mumbo jumbo about making him look dead.
Regardless, it sends his thoughts back to last night and his haunting encounter with Emma.
She was right, goddamnit.
“How ya feeling?” Miles asks, his tone a sudden mix of detached annoyance and impatience. “Can you walk?”
But Bass knows his best friend way too well. Miles can try all he wants - put up every possible wall; but behind all those layers of ‘I don’t give a fuck’ is a man who still gives a damn.
“Look at you,” Bass mumbles knowingly. “You’re happy to see me.”
“What?” Miles squints and shakes his head.
“You missed me,” Bass confirms while his eyes attempt to close. “You’re my best friend.”
An amused snort escapes Miles's lips while a smile threatens to bloom across his tired face. It probably doesn’t help that Charlie’s standing right next to him, failing to hold back her own smirk.
But the King of Self Denial is a pro and recovers quickly; he licks his lips and rolls his eyes. “Okay. That’s...that’s enough.”
Miles starts to turn away, but Bass stops him. “Miles. You...you have to tell me....”
Concern slides over his face again as he leans down to be at eye level with Bass. “Tell you what?”
“You have to tell me where my son is.”
His usual brand of guilt reappears on his face, and Miles struggles to maintain eye contact. “One thing at a time.”
Before Bass can say anything more, Miles stands and turns to face Rachel. “How long till he’s a hundred percent?”
She shrugs. “Couple days.”
“Why’d you do it?” Charlie asks.
“‘Cause we needed him,” Rachel answers, her tone matter of fact. “And you asked me to.”
Bass can’t fight his heavy eyelids any longer, and he feels like someone just put his brain through a blender, but even in his current state, he doesn’t miss the silent exchange between mother and daughter, or the knowingly suspicious look on Miles’s face as he glances back and forth between Rachel and Charlie.
Bass has no clue how long he was out, but it was obviously long enough for something to have shifted between the Mathesons.
Interesting, he thinks. And regardless of what exactly Rachel did or why, Bass is pretty sure he owes Charlie a giant fucking thank you.
‘Take care of your uncle, kid,’ his own words suddenly ring in his ears.
Huh. That’s...something.
*
He falls back to sleep without realizing it and wakes up much later in the same shitty bed. His head is still pounding, but he’s glad to note that he feels just a little bit better than earlier.
The sun is starting to set, which means it’s quite a few hours later. He glances around the small room and finds Charlie dozing off in a chair next to him, her crossbow in her lap. By the looks of it, it’s just the two of them, and they're in some sort of a safehouse that Bass doesn’t recognize, which means she probably volunteered to stay here with him.
“Charlotte,” he whispers.
She blinks her blood-shot eyes open and looks around, disoriented at first, before she realizes where she is and with whom.
She looks at him and yawns. “Monroe.”
He studies her face for a while and is relieved to find that she’s not wearing her usual mask of brooding distrust. He never quite knows which version of her he’ll get on any given day. Some days she's practically pleasant. The rest of the time, Bass still wonders if she's still plotting his demise in her head.
“What’d your mom mean earlier?”
She blinks at him blankly, then arches an eyebrow. “What’re you talking about?”
“When she said you asked her not to kill me….”
She shrugs and fidgets with her crossbow, eyes dropping to her lap. “Go back to sleep, Monroe.”
Heh.
“Well,” he drawls. “Regardless…thank you.”
She clears her throat but doesn’t say anything. Classic. Just like Miles.
Fine, Bass bites back a smirk. So Mini-Miles is not ready to dive into that conversation yet. Fair enough.
Onto the next subject, then. “Did you do it?”
She lifts her eyes back up to meet his. “Did I do what?”
“That thing I told you to do before they dragged me into that courthouse.”
She frowns at him.
Bass lets out a sigh. “‘Take care of your uncle, kid.’ Remember?”
Her eyes darken for a moment, and a pretty pink flush sneaks into her cheeks. She bites her bottom lip and looks away without an answer.
Bass grins. It doesn’t matter. The look on her face gives him all the information he needs. She did exactly what he asked her to do - in every possible sense and context he could imagine.
Once again, Emma was right.
And if that’s the case? Then maybe there is hope. Maybe his dreams aren’t actually as far from reality as he once thought.
- THE END -