Beautiful Sin - Chapter 12
Spicy BL/MM/GAY Stepbrother Reverse Harem Romance
Davis Brothers
Peter and Tina had just arrived, and Aiden was playing sommelier with far more attention than wine-pouring strictly required, examining each bottle like it contained the secrets to the universe instead of just fermented grapes.
“Red or white?” he asked Peter, though his attention was elsewhere—specifically tracking the movement of a certain half-Japanese stepbrother who had been avoiding him all day with the dedication of a professional hide-and-seek champion.
“Red,” Peter replied, following Aiden’s distracted gaze with knowing eyes. “Though I suspect you’d pour me motor oil if I asked for it right now. Your focus is... elsewhere.”
Aiden forced his attention back to the wine. “Just making sure everyone’s taken care of.”
“Everyone?” Peter’s eyebrow arched meaningfully. “Or someone in particular?”
Before Aiden could formulate a suitably cutting response, the guys from upstairs descended en masse, turning his carefully arranged dining room into cheerful chaos. Lucas and Carter immediately commandeered the couch, while Matt, Ryan, and Jason made a beeline for the food table like they hadn’t eaten in days. A few minutes later, Noah appeared wearing that infuriating smirk of his, followed by a clearly annoyed Haru with Jess linked to his arm.
The sight of Haru—cheeks flushed from whatever conversation had been happening upstairs, dark hair slightly tousled—made something primal stir in Aiden’s chest. The boy was wearing that blue sweater that made his eyes look impossibly dark and his skin impossibly pale. The honey-cherry blossom scent that was uniquely Haru drifted across the room, making Aiden’s fingers tighten around the wine bottle.
“Easy there, tiger,” Peter murmured, deftly rescuing the bottle before Aiden could crack it. “That’s a thirty-dollar Merlot, not a stress ball.”
Aiden busied himself with an unnecessarily thorough examination of wine labels, definitely not tracking Haru’s every movement across the room. Though judging by Tina’s knowing smirk, he wasn’t being as subtle as he thought.
“You know,” she said, sidling up to him with the stealth of a panther, “there are less obvious ways to stare at someone than using wine bottles as binoculars.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Aiden replied, pouring her a glass. “I’m simply being a good host.”
“Mm-hmm,” Tina hummed, accepting the wine. “And I’m simply going to have a friendly chat with your adorable stepbrother.” She patted his arm consolingly. “Try not to break any more bottles while I’m gone.”
When Tina bee-lined for Haru with that predatory gleam in her eye, Aiden’s internal alarm bells started ringing like a five-alarm fire. She had an uncanny talent for cornering Haru and extracting information like some sort of social CIA agent. But before he could intervene, Peter trapped him in conversation about—of course—Camille.
“What did you do to set her off?” Peter’s eyes danced with amusement as he sipped his wine. “She’s been ranting about you being ‘unprofessional’ for three hours straight. You, Mr. Perfect Real Estate Agent.”
Aiden fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Let me guess—I was cold, late, and generally terrible? Perhaps I also kicked her puppy and stole candy from children while I was at it?”
“Among other colorful descriptions,” Peter chuckled. “She seems particularly fixated on your ‘inappropriate attachment’ to your family. So, what’s the real story? You’re about as unprofessional as Noah is spontaneous.”
“She wanted to add ‘bedroom’ to our professional relationship,” Aiden said dryly, watching Haru from the corner of his eye. The boy was fidgeting under Tina’s interrogation, a blush creeping up his neck. “I declined. Apparently, rejection isn’t something she handles gracefully.”
Peter’s laugh boomed across the room, drawing everyone’s attention—including Haru’s curious gaze. Aiden met those eyes for a heated moment before Haru quickly looked away, his blush deepening to a shade that would make roses jealous.
“And?” Peter prodded, following Aiden’s line of sight with knowing eyes. “Not your type?”
“About as much as paperwork is Isaac’s.”
“Most women aren’t your type lately,” Peter murmured, glancing meaningfully across the room. “Or should I say, they’re not quite the right height?”
Subtle, Peter. Real subtle. Though his friend wasn’t wrong—he’d known about Aiden’s feelings for Haru for a while now. Whether those feelings were reciprocated... well, that was the million-dollar question keeping Aiden up at night. Though after last night’s... activities, he had reason to hope.
“You could just tell her you’re already invested elsewhere,” Peter suggested quietly, his voice pitched for Aiden’s ears alone. “Might save you some professional headaches.”
Aiden shook his head, watching as Haru squirmed under Tina’s interrogation across the room. “I told her I wasn’t interested. Didn’t expect her to go behind my back spreading lies.”
Peter chuckled, swirling his wine. “Well, she’s my problem now. Unless you’re worried about me stealing your client?”
“Be my guest,” Aiden shrugged, his attention drawn once again to where Tina had Haru cornered. The boy’s face was getting redder by the second, and his fidgeting had increased to the point where he looked like he might vibrate right off the couch. “Though I’m more concerned about what your wife is grilling my brother about.”
Peter followed his gaze, a smile tugging at his lips. “Does he always blush that easily?”
“Always,” Aiden couldn’t help the fond smile that crept onto his face. And it’s adorable every single time. The memory of how that blush had spread down Haru’s neck, across his chest last night as Aiden touched him... No. Not the time to revisit that particular highlight reel.
Peter started moving toward the group, and Aiden followed, because apparently watching Haru squirm from afar wasn’t torturous enough—he needed a front-row seat. The possessive part of him that had been growing stronger by the day wanted to intervene, to shield Haru from Tina’s relentless questioning, to claim his territory in a way that was both inappropriate and increasingly difficult to resist.
When Jess spotted them approaching, she bounced up from her seat with all the subtlety of a neon sign. “Here, Aiden, take my spot!” she chirped, practically shoving him toward the space beside Haru.
Subtle as a sledgehammer, Jess.
Aiden slid into the offered space, effectively trapping Haru between himself and the arm of the sofa. The boy went rigid faster than Isaac’s credit card at a game store sale, his entire body tensing like a bowstring. That sweet scent of honey and cherry blossoms intensified with his proximity, wrapping around Aiden like an invisible embrace, making his head spin with desire and something deeper, more primal.
Pretending not to notice—a skill he’d perfected over the years—Aiden casually draped his arm across the back of the sofa behind Haru, his fingers just close enough to brush against those silky strands of jet-black hair. The contact, though minimal, sent electricity racing up his arm.
“I didn’t know you two were coming,” Haru managed, his voice slightly higher than usual, his eyes fixed firmly on the floor like it contained the secrets to the universe. “Aiden said you were busy.”
Peter settled into the armchair across from them with the easy grace of someone who’d never worried about rent. “Tina has a way of... rewriting schedules.”
“I prefer to call it ‘aggressive optimization,’” his wife retorted, flashing a smile that could sell timeshares to the homeless. “But never mind my superior planning skills. Haru was just telling me about his university professor who apparently grades papers based on his mood swings rather than actual content.”
Aiden’s protective instincts kicked into high gear, his arm shifting slightly closer to Haru’s shoulders. “You didn’t mention that.”
“Because it’s hardly breaking news,” Haru mumbled, still conducting an intense archaeological study of the floor pattern. “Unfair professors are as common as Isaac’s gaming-induced tantrums.”
“Hey!” came the predictable protest from the floor. “What are you doing, Tina? Interrogating Haru again? Did the CIA finally make your consultant position official, or are you still in the probationary period?”
Tina’s perfectly shaped eyebrows shot up in mock offense. “Excuse you? Does asking about your brother’s wellbeing qualify as an interrogation now?”
“If you’re not interrogating him, then it must be favoritism,” Isaac grinned, rolling onto his back to look up at them upside-down. “Every time you visit, you monopolize Haru like he’s the last piece of cake at a birthday party. Better watch out, Peter, or your wife might trade you in for a younger model.”
Connor, materializing behind Isaac like some sort of ninja, ruffled the younger man’s hair with enough force to make him yelp. “Stop being a nosy little shit.”
Isaac’s face turned the color of Reo’s favorite hot sauce. “I’m not being nosy!”
Tina reached over and pinched Isaac’s already flaming cheek, her grin positively feline. “As usual, you’re about as subtle as a foghorn and twice as adorable. Isn’t that right, Connor?”
The man in question cupped Isaac’s face in his large hand, squeezing slightly in a way that made Isaac squawk in indignation. “Definitely nosy. The adorable part is debatable. Look at him—he’s redder than when someone messes with his limited edition controllers.”
“That’s not true,” Isaac protested, batting Connor’s hand away like a disgruntled kitten. He rubbed his chin with an exaggerated pout that undermined his next statement completely. “And I’m gathering intel for familial purposes, thank you very much. Also, I’m a man. I’m not adorable. Haru’s the cute one. Our resident Shrine Maiden.”
“For the millionth time, I’m not—” Haru started, finally looking up from his intense study of the floor.
“Shrine Maiden extraordinaire,” Noah cut in, appearing at the edge of their little gathering like a particularly brooding shadow. His sharp eyes fixed on where Haru was practically nestled in Aiden’s lap, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “Though these days he’s more lap dancer than shrine maiden.”
Haru jerked upright, face flaming, but Aiden’s arm kept him firmly in place, his fingers now definitely touching the nape of Haru’s neck in a touch that was both possessive and warning. The territorial claim was clear to everyone except perhaps Haru himself, who seemed oblivious to the silent battle happening over his head.
Mason’s usually easy smile had an edge to it as he approached from the kitchen, two drinks in hand. “Speaking of positions, there’s plenty of room over here, Haru. This couch is more comfortable.”
“He’s fine where he is,” Aiden’s voice was casual, but his grip tightened possessively, fingers now definitely tangled in the soft hair at Haru’s nape.
“Oh god,” Haru muttered, trying to sink into the couch—and inadvertently closer to Aiden. Noah’s knuckles went white around his glass, the tension in his frame making him look like he might snap at any moment.
Jess, either oblivious to or deliberately ignoring the testosterone-fueled tension crackling through the air like lightning, perked up with the timing of a sitcom character. “Hold up—Shrine Maiden? How have I never heard this story?”
“Because it’s not—” Haru tried again, his voice taking on that desperate edge that always made Aiden want to gather him close and shield him from the world.
“Actually,” Reo interrupted, materializing with the stealth of a cat, his eyes dancing between his clearly jealous brothers with unholy glee, “I have photographic evidence. Mom captured his shrine maiden debut when he was four. Give me two minutes.”
He disappeared, leaving Haru trapped between Aiden’s possessive hold and Noah’s increasingly murderous glare. Mason hovered nearby, his usual laid-back demeanor replaced by something more predatory, more calculating.
“I don’t even remember this,” Haru groaned, slumping further into the couch—and by extension, closer to Aiden, who did nothing to discourage the proximity.
“Oh, I do,” Mason’s voice was light, but his eyes kept tracking Aiden’s hands on Haru, following the movement of those fingers against Haru’s neck with an intensity that raised Aiden’s hackles. “Baby Haru looked like one of those priceless porcelain dolls. The kind you’re afraid to breathe near.”
“Wouldn’t want to break him,” Noah’s words carried a double meaning that made Haru shiver, a movement Aiden felt against his side. The protective instinct that had been his constant companion since meeting Haru flared hotter, more possessive.
Isaac, bless his gaming-addled brain, remained cheerfully oblivious to the charged atmosphere. “He was like a living doll! Remember when Mom dressed him up in those shrine maiden outfits for the cultural festivals while Reo got to wear the traditional hakama?”
“You made me wear them,” Haru protested, his embarrassment evident in the deepening flush spreading across his cheeks.
“Ah yes, our adorable shrine maiden,” Mason’s smile didn’t reach his eyes as he settled on Haru’s other side, closer than strictly necessary. “The star attraction of every festival.”
“Speaking of memorable moments,” Noah’s thumb scrolled through his phone with deadly purpose, his eyes never leaving Haru, “I wonder if those dress-up photos are still around...”
“Don’t you dare,” Isaac warned, but Noah’s attention remained fixed on Haru, still wrapped in Aiden’s embrace.
“What’s wrong with sharing memories?” Noah’s smile was sharp enough to cut glass. “Unless someone’s trying to maintain a different image these days?”
The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees. Aiden felt Haru squirm against him, clearly uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. He tried to move away, but Aiden kept his arm firmly in place, his fingers continuing their gentle exploration of Haru’s nape. The possessive gesture wasn’t lost on his brothers, judging by the tightening of Noah’s jaw and the subtle hardening of Mason’s eyes.
Aiden couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him at Haru’s obvious discomfort, earning himself a betrayed look from those dark eyes. But the memory of tiny Haru in those traditional robes was just too precious to maintain his composure. Their stepmother had encouraged those dress-up sessions, probably to satisfy her secret wish for a daughter among her six rowdy boys.
Reo burst back in, triumphantly wielding a photo album like it contained state secrets. “Found it!” he announced, dropping onto the coffee table with all the grace of a cat who’d just cornered a particularly juicy mouse. “Behold, the evolution of our Shrine Maiden!”
Within seconds, everyone was clustered around, cooing over baby photos of Haru and Reo’s life in Japan. And there it was—little Haru in pristine white and red, looking absolutely adorable in front of an ancient shrine. The photo showed him with his tiny hands clasped in prayer, dark eyes serious in his small face, the traditional robes making him look like a doll come to life.
Aiden watched as Haru stared at the photo like it had personally offended him, his expression a mixture of embarrassment and something deeper, more wistful.
“Brings back memories,” Reo said, his voice softening as he traced the shrine photo with a gentleness that belied his usual sarcastic demeanor. “Uncle Jin keeps asking when his favorite shrine maiden is coming back. We haven’t visited since Mom and Stepdad...”
The unfinished sentence hung in the air, a reminder of the loss they’d all shared. Aiden felt Haru tense beside him, the grief still raw even after all these years. His arm tightened instinctively, pulling Haru closer in silent comfort.
“Maybe we should change that,” Aiden said, his inner calculator already whirring to life like a possessed Excel sheet. Numbers and budgets began arranging themselves in his mind, a skill honed through years of being the family provider.
“Change what?” Reo’s eyebrows shot up, genuine surprise replacing his usual knowing smirk. “Our status as Japan’s most absent relatives?”
“Visit your uncle,” Aiden replied, as if proposing a trip to the grocery store instead of herding six chaos-prone brothers across international waters. “All of us.”
“Like, all of us?” Haru perked up, and Aiden could feel the excitement radiating from him. “Going to Japan?”
Aiden smiled down at him, savoring how Haru unconsciously leaned closer in excitement, all previous embarrassment forgotten. The sweet scent of honey and cherry blossoms intensified with his happiness, wrapping around Aiden like a physical embrace. “Mm-hmm.”
Noah’s sharp gaze caught the movement, his eyes narrowing as he watched Haru practically melt against Aiden’s side. “That’s... ambitious. Especially with our budget.”
“Speaking of budgets,” Mason cut in smoothly, sliding closer to Haru’s other side until their thighs were practically touching, “I could pick up extra shifts at the bar. Tips have been good lately.”
“Oh my god, can we come too?” Tina practically bounced in her seat, her excitement making Peter roll his eyes fondly. “I need to see where our precious shrine maiden began his journey to cuteness.”
“If you want to join this circus,” Aiden drawled, subtly adjusting his arm to keep Haru firmly beside him and away from Mason’s encroaching presence, “you’re funding your own ticket, Tina.”
“Savage,” Peter whispered, earning a playful slap from his wife.
Isaac’s head snapped up like a puppy hearing the treat bag rustle. “Hold up. Last I checked, our vacation fund was as empty as Noah’s inbox on Valentine’s Day.”
Noah’s cushion found its target with sniper-like precision, hitting Isaac square in the face. “At least I don’t spend my savings on virtual girlfriends.”
“Not yet,” Aiden admitted, watching with amusement as Haru tried to dodge being caught in the crossfire of flying cushions. “Give it another three to four months.”
“So you’re saying...” Isaac leaned forward, vibrating with the energy of a kid who’d discovered the cookie jar. “We can actually afford a proper vacation? Like, overseas? With stuff and things?”
“No, we’re flying to Japan to meditate in empty rooms,” Noah deadpanned, though his eyes never left Haru’s animated face. “Of course with ‘stuff and things.’”
“Yeah!” Isaac punched the air, nearly taking out Connor’s eye in his enthusiasm. “I’m saving every penny! Those Akihabara gaming stores won’t know what hit them!”
“And here I thought you wanted to explore your cultural heritage,” Mason teased, using the moment to shift incrementally closer to Haru, his thigh now definitely pressed against Haru’s.
“Speaking of culture,” Noah cut in abruptly, his voice sharp enough to slice sushi, “dinner’s ready. Unless everyone prefers cooing over baby Haru?”
Reo caught the edge in Noah’s tone and smirked, watching his brothers dance around each other like awkward sumo wrestlers. This trip was going to be interesting.
The migration to the dining table resembled a stampede of hungry wolves who’d discovered table manners—barely. For the next few hours, they ate, drank, and traded stories that grew more outrageous with each passing glass of wine. The younger ones eventually drifted back to their video games like moths to a particularly explosive flame, with Jess joining in while Haru watched from what he considered a safe distance.
Aiden found himself constantly aware of Haru’s location throughout the evening, his gaze tracking the boy’s movements with an intensity that would have been embarrassing if he’d been sober enough to care. He wasn’t the only one. Noah’s eyes followed Haru like a hawk watching its prey, while Mason found excuses to brush against him, to touch his shoulder, to lean in close when speaking.
The possessive beast in Aiden’s chest growled with each contact, each look. Mine, it insisted with increasing urgency. Mine to protect. Mine to possess.
When Peter and Tina finally left around eleven, the cleanup crew assembled like a well-oiled machine—if that machine was powered by brotherly bickering and questionable jokes. Aiden was loading the dishwasher when he heard Jess’s voice from the doorway.
“I’m exhausted,” she announced, appearing in the kitchen doorway like a sneaky matchmaker plotting her next move. “Mind if I crash here tonight, Aiden?”
Haru frowned, pausing in his task of wrapping leftovers. “Where would you even sleep? My room’s basically a glorified shoebox.”
“Oh, that’s easy,” Jess’s smile could’ve given the Cheshire Cat competition. “I’ll take your room, and you can sleep in Aiden’s.”
The temperature plummeted faster than Isaac’s gaming scores during a power outage. Noah’s grip on the dish he was drying turned lethal, the muscles in his forearms standing out like cords. Mason’s trademark easy smile crystallized into something that wouldn’t have looked out of place in a glacier. The air crackled with tension thick enough to cut with a knife.
“Actually,” Mason cut in with forced lightness, setting down his towel with deliberate care, “Haru could take my room. I don’t mind the couch.”
“Your bed’s practically a twin,” Noah interjected, voice sharp enough to slice through steel. “He’d be more comfortable in my room. Memory foam mattress.”
“The one that misses you because you’re always face-down on your desk?” Mason’s tone was honey-sweet, his eyes anything but.
Reo leaned against the counter, watching this passive-aggressive tennis match like it was premium entertainment, his dark eyes dancing with unholy glee. “My, my, so many generous offers. Who knew we had such charitable brothers?”
“Haru can use my room!” Isaac chirped from the doorway, blissfully unaware he was walking into a minefield. “Just watch out for the controller cables—they’re like my room’s version of trip wire.”
“And risk him breaking his neck navigating your gaming obstacle course?” Noah’s protective instincts flared like a mama bear spotting a threat. “Absolutely not.”
Haru glanced between his brothers, looking bewildered.
Aiden, who’d been quietly observing this territorial display with growing irritation, finally spoke, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife. “Haru can share my room. The bed’s big enough.” His casual tone didn’t match the way his eyes locked with first Noah’s, then Mason’s, like a silent showdown. The challenge was clear: Mine.
Noah’s jaw clenched so hard it could’ve cracked walnuts. “That’s hardly—”
“It’s fine,” Haru interrupted, face pink but determined. “Better than making anyone sleep on the couch.”
Mason’s smile looked like it might shatter. “But—”
“Perfect!” Jess beamed, shooting Reo a triumphant look before practically skipping away, humming what suspiciously sounded like a wedding march.
“That girl,” Reo shook his head, though his expression was more amused than disapproving. “She’s got more schemes than Isaac has gaming consoles—and that’s saying something.”
“And you’re always onto her little plots,” Noah bit out, his knuckles white around the poor dish towel he was mangling. “Better watch out, Reo. Keep calling her out, and she might stop visiting. Then who’ll entertain you?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Reo’s eyebrows shot up, though his attention was more on how Noah’s entire body had gone rigid with tension.
Mason’s smile could’ve cut glass. “Yeah, Haru would be devastated if his best friend stopped coming around. But you’d be absolutely crushed, wouldn’t you, Reo?”
Before Reo could fire back a suitably scathing response, Ryan’s voice drifted in from the living room like a well-timed distraction. “Hey, can we crash here tonight? The buses are done and Ubers are surging.”
“Yeah!” Isaac perked up like someone had announced a gaming marathon. “Slumber party!”
Noah’s expression suggested he’d rather drink straight lemon juice. “One of us can drive you home.”
“But we want to stay,” Ryan unleashed his weaponized puppy eyes. “Please?”
“They’ve been drinking,” Mason pointed out, perhaps sensing an opportunity to diffuse the tension crackling through the kitchen. “Let them stay, Noah. What’s a few more people?” His eyes flickered briefly to where Aiden stood hovering near Haru like a particularly protective shadow.
Noah released a sigh that could’ve powered a wind turbine. “Fine. But keep it down. Some of us actually sleep at night.”
“Unlike you and your three a.m. marketing presentations?” Mason’s teasing had an edge sharper than their good kitchen knives. “Pretty sure your laptop’s got a permanent imprint of your face by now.”
“Or Aiden’s midnight spreadsheet adventures?” Isaac chimed in, still completely missing the undercurrents of tension.
“Says the guy who raids the fridge at two a.m. like a ninja in designer sweats,” Haru muttered.
“Hey!” Isaac clutched his chest in mock offense. “Gaming burns calories!”
“Only if you’re actually moving,” Noah rolled his eyes, but his lips twitched slightly. Some of the earlier tension leaked from his shoulders, though his gaze kept tracking Haru’s movements like a hawk watching its prey.
Ryan whooped in victory, already planning their late-night gaming session. But Aiden noticed how Noah’s eyes kept drifting toward the hallway, no doubt thinking about Haru sleeping in his room tonight. Mason wasn’t any better, his usual easy smile had vanished faster than Isaac’s gaming snacks.
Well, Aiden thought, watching his brothers’ barely concealed reactions, this should be an interesting night.
As the kitchen emptied, leaving him alone with his thoughts, Aiden found himself both dreading and anticipating the hours ahead. Haru. In his room. In his bed. After what had happened between them last night...
The possessive beast in his chest purred with satisfaction. Tonight, Haru would be his. His.