Beautiful Sin - Chapter 7 (18+)
Spicy BL/MM/GAY Stepbrother Reverse Harem Romance
Davis Brothers
Aiden stood frozen, watching the empty doorway where Haru had disappeared, his throat constricting as if someone had wrapped a hand around it. The lingering scent of honey and cherry blossoms wrapped around him like invisible chains, simultaneously comforting and tormenting.
His fingers tingled with the phantom sensation of Haru’s damp hair, the memory of that soft skin beneath his touch sending electricity racing through his system. Six months since The Bathroom Incident, and Haru had transformed from the awkward teenager Aiden had tried so desperately not to notice into a young man who commanded attention without even trying. The subtle changes—the slight broadening of shoulders, the more defined muscles, the graceful confidence in his movements—were branded into Aiden’s consciousness with painful clarity.
That damned towel, barely clinging to narrow hips, water droplets tracing paths down pale skin that glowed in the kitchen’s dim light. Aiden’s fingers had itched with the need to follow those droplets, to map that territory with his hands, his mouth. To claim what felt rightfully his. The possessive thought should have horrified him. Instead, it settled in his chest like a living thing, burning and demanding.
“Missing something?” Noah’s voice cut through his thoughts like a serrated knife. “Or should I say... someone?”
Aiden turned slowly, forcing his features into casual indifference while his insides burned. “Don’t you have some spreadsheets to terrorize?”
“And miss this quality entertainment?” Reo’s grin was positively wicked as he leaned against the counter, coffee mug cradled between his palms. “Our Shrine Maiden does have a talent for causing chaos, doesn’t he?”
The nickname sent an inexplicable shiver down Aiden’s spine. There was something about it that felt... right, in a way he couldn’t articulate. As if it belonged to Haru in some fundamental way that transcended their modern lives. As if it had always been his title, across time and space.
“You two are enjoying this far too much,” Aiden muttered, trying to ignore the way his body still hummed with awareness from that brief contact with Haru. How could such an innocent touch leave him feeling like he’d been struck by lightning?
Noah lounged back, though his white-knuckled grip on his mug betrayed his casual posture. “The brat needs to learn some self-preservation. Walking around half-naked like that...” His words carried an edge that raised Aiden’s hackles, a territorial note that felt like a direct challenge.
“He’s just distracted,” Aiden defended, missing the loaded look between his brothers as his mind replayed Haru’s words from the car. I already have someone I’m in love with. The memory sent a wave of possessive rage through him so intense it was physically painful, like someone had reached into his chest and was squeezing his heart in a vice grip.
“Oh?” Reo’s eyes danced with unholy glee. “And you would know about these... distractions?”
“Personal stuff,” Aiden said firmly, unwilling to discuss Haru’s revelation. The thought of Haru pining for someone, dreaming of someone else, wanting someone who wasn’t him—it made something primal and violent rise within him, something that wanted to hunt down this unknown rival and eliminate the threat.
“At his age?” Reo’s smile widened, too knowing, too perceptive. “Must be love.”
“How would you know?” Aiden asked, trying not to look as interested as he felt, even as his insides twisted with jealousy sharp enough to draw blood.
“Please,” Reo leaned forward, every inch the cat with not just the cream, but the whole dairy farm. “At nineteen? Everything’s about love. Or did you forget your own awkward phase?”
Noah snorted, running a hand through his damp hair. “As if our perfect eldest brother ever had an awkward phase. He was too busy collecting girlfriends like trading cards.”
“Speaking from experience?” Aiden shot back, though his mind was elsewhere. Those relationships had been as substantial as tissue paper in rain—just something to fill the void after their parents died. None of them had made him feel even a fraction of what one half-dressed Haru could do with a single glance.
None of them had smelled like honey and cherry blossoms. None of them had made his chest ache with a longing that felt ancient and overwhelming. None of them had felt like coming home, like finding a missing piece of himself he hadn’t known was lost.
“All I’m saying,” Reo continued, his voice carrying that irritating know-it-all tone he’d perfected, “is that our little Shrine Maiden’s acting exactly like someone in love. Distracted. Dreamy. Walking around practically naked...”
The thought of Haru—his Haru—dreaming about someone else made something dark and primitive surge through Aiden’s veins. A possessiveness so intense it frightened him with its ferocity. The need to claim, to mark, to possess was overwhelming, almost supernatural in its power. It felt older than himself, deeper than modern morality, more fundamental than the family ties that bound them.
“I’m going to shower,” Aiden announced, standing abruptly. He couldn’t handle any more speculation about Haru’s love life—not when his own feelings were threatening to bubble over like an unattended pot, not when every cell in his body was screaming at him to claim what was his.
“Running away?” Noah’s words held a challenge that went deeper than their surface bickering. “You still haven’t told us what’s bothering him.”
“Not my secret to tell.” Aiden managed a casual shrug that felt anything but. “Ask him yourself if you’re so curious.”
“Ah,” Reo’s eyes gleamed with that strange, ancient knowledge that sometimes made Aiden wonder if he knew far more than he let on. “So there is a secret.”
“Good night,” Aiden said pointedly, already heading for the door. He needed to escape before Reo’s knowing looks and Noah’s sharp comments cracked his carefully maintained facade. Before they saw the monster lurking beneath his skin, the one that wanted to possess Haru completely, to erase any thought of loving someone else from his mind.
“Such a mother hen,” Noah called after him, his words carrying a bitterness only Reo understood.
“Sweet dreams, big brother,” Reo’s voice followed him down the hall. “Try not to think too hard about our little Shrine Maiden’s... distractions.”
Aiden’s only response was to close his bedroom door with enough force to rattle the hinges. He needed a shower. A very cold one. Anything to wash away the rage and possession threatening to consume him from the inside out.
But even as he stripped off his clothes, Aiden knew no amount of cold water could douse the fire in his blood. This wasn’t just desire. It wasn’t just inappropriate feelings for a stepbrother. This was something else entirely—something that felt like it had been building for years, decades, perhaps even centuries. Something that went beyond rational thought or moral considerations.
The bathroom tiles were cool against his heated skin as he stepped into the shower, turning the water as cold as it would go. The shock of it barely registered through the storm of emotions raging inside him. Not that any amount of water could wash away the images branded into his retinas—Haru in that towel, water droplets playing connect-the-dots across newly defined muscles, the soft vulnerability in those dark eyes when Aiden had touched his hair.
Fuck.
He was supposed to be the responsible one. The mature older brother. The family pillar. Instead, here he was, burning with jealousy over his stepbrother’s love life, plotting ways to identify and eliminate the competition. If there was a special circle of hell for inappropriate thoughts about family members, he’d just bought himself a first-class ticket.
The worst part? This wasn’t even about pure lust—though God knew there was plenty of that. No, what really terrified him was how his heart clenched whenever Haru smiled. How he wanted to gather the boy in his arms and never let go. How he’d rather cut off his own arm than see Haru hurt. How the mere thought of Haru loving someone else made him want to burn the world down.
It was love. Not brotherly love, not familial affection, but something all-consuming and desperate. Something that felt like it had been waiting patiently beneath his skin for years, biding its time until Haru was old enough, until the moment was right.
His cock twitched, apparently deciding that his moral crisis was the perfect time to remind him of its presence. Because of course it would. Traitor.
“Shit,” he breathed, glancing down at his betraying body. The evidence of his desire stood proud and unashamed, like it hadn’t gotten the memo about appropriate stepbrother behavior.
He was no better than those creeps who eye-fucked Haru at his part-time job. The thought made him sick, but it didn’t make his erection flag. If anything, the memory of how he’d glared those perverts into submission only made things worse. How he’d wanted to break their wandering eyes for daring to look at what was his.
His. When had he started thinking of Haru as his?
The protective instinct had always been there, from the moment they’d met. Nine-year-old Haru with his wide dark eyes and shy smile, reaching out to take Aiden’s hand at the airport. The connection had been instant and overwhelming, even then—a fierce need to shield and care for this delicate boy who looked at him with such trust.
For years, it had been simple. Brotherly. Pure. Until something had shifted, changed, transformed when Haru turned eighteen. It was as if a veil had been lifted, allowing Aiden to see what had perhaps always been there, waiting. That was when he’d first noticed the scent—honey and cherry blossoms—that seemed to emanate from Haru’s skin. That was when the protective instinct had twisted into something deeper, more primal, more consuming.
And now Haru was in love with someone else. The knowledge sat in his gut like molten lead, burning through his insides. He’d have to watch from the sidelines, play the supportive big brother while someone else got to touch what he couldn’t. Someone else would get to see Haru’s face flushed with pleasure, hear those little gasps he sometimes made when startled.
No. The thought was intolerable. A physical pain that radiated from his chest outward, making it hard to breathe. It felt like something was being torn away from him, something vital and irreplaceable.
His hand wrapped around his cock before he could finish that thought, the cool water doing nothing to temper the heat coursing through him. He closed his eyes, and immediately the image of Haru from the kitchen filled his mind—towel hanging dangerously low, water droplets mapping a path Aiden’s tongue ached to follow. That delicate collarbone practically begging to be marked. Claimed.
“Haru...” The name escaped his lips like a prayer, reverent and desperate all at once. In his mind, those wide innocent eyes looked up at him with heat instead of familial affection. Those soft lips parted in pleasure rather than casual conversation.
God, he was going to hell for this.
His strokes quickened, imagination painting pictures he’d never admit to in the light of day. Haru sprawled across his bed, skin flushed pink like after his bath. Haru calling his name in that soft voice of his. Haru’s slender fingers replacing his own on his cock.
The fantasy shifted to Haru in the kitchen just minutes ago, but in his mind, the scene played out differently. Instead of standing frozen like an idiot, he crossed the room in three long strides, backed Haru against the counter, and claimed those soft lips that had been haunting him for years.
Fantasy-Haru melted against him, making that little whimpering sound Aiden had heard earlier in the car when he’d pulled him into a hug. But this time, there was no brotherly pretense, no walls between them. Just Haru’s slender body pressed against his, trembling with the same need that was currently threatening to burn Aiden alive from the inside out.
“Fuck...” The pressure built, his guilt doing nothing to stem the tide of pleasure. If anything, it only made everything more intense, more forbidden, more overwhelming. His free hand braced against the tile as his hips bucked into his fist, chasing the release that would give him a moment’s peace from this torment.
In his mind, Haru was saying his name, those dark eyes wide with desire rather than innocence. “Aiden,” fantasy-Haru whispered, the way he had in the car earlier—but without the hesitation, without the confusion. Just pure want.
“I’m here to help you, Haru,” he’d said in the car. The memory twisted with his fantasy—in his mind, he was “helping” Haru in ways that would definitely get him disowned if their other brothers ever found out. Helping Haru discover exactly how good it could feel to be touched by someone who knew every inch of him, someone who’d watched him grow from a shy child into the breathtaking young man who now occupied every corner of Aiden’s thoughts.
His strokes became almost punishing, the water sluicing down his body doing nothing to cool the fire in his veins. The image of Haru in that towel, those water droplets trailing down his chest, the way he’d licked his lips nervously when Aiden approached—it all collided with a thousand other moments. Haru sleepy in the morning, hair tousled and eyes soft. Haru laughing at something Isaac said, head thrown back to expose the delicate line of his throat. Haru’s face when he’d almost let slip that he wanted to move out, panic and something else flickering across those expressive features.
The thought of Haru leaving—of putting physical distance between them—sent a wave of something dark and possessive through Aiden, a visceral pain that made him gasp. No. He wouldn’t allow it. Couldn’t allow it. The intensity of his reaction should have frightened him, but instead, it felt right. As if he was meant to keep Haru close, to protect him, to possess him.
It was more than desire. More than obsession. It felt like destiny.
He came with Haru’s name caught between his teeth, his release washing away with the shower spray—if only his feelings could be so easily rinsed clean. The intensity of his orgasm left him trembling, one arm braced against the tile to keep himself upright as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through him.
He leaned against the cool tiles, breathing hard. The post-orgasmic haze couldn’t quite drown out the voice in his head telling him what a sick fuck he was. Getting off to thoughts of his innocent stepbrother? There had to be some sort of special punishment for that.
Especially when said stepbrother was clearly in love with someone else. The thought of Haru looking at another person the way Aiden desperately wanted him to look at him—it was like a knife to the gut. Worse than any physical pain he’d ever experienced. A pain that felt almost primal, like something fundamental was being torn away from him.
“I doubt it,” Haru had mumbled in the car. “That person sees me about as romantically as a pet goldfish.”
Who was this blind idiot who couldn’t see how incredible Haru was? The thought of someone dismissing Haru’s feelings made protective rage surge through him, temporarily drowning out the guilt of his own actions. If Aiden ever found out who this person was, he’d—
He stopped that train of thought before it could fully form, alarmed by the violence lurking at its edges. This wasn’t like him. He was the reasonable one, the controlled one. Not this... whatever was happening to him. This possession. This obsession.
And yet, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. As if this fierce protectiveness, this overwhelming need to claim Haru as his own, was written into his DNA. As if he’d been born for it.
Ten minutes later, Aiden emerged from the shower feeling physically clean but morally bankrupt. He’d barely finished pulling on his pajamas when he spotted Haru’s clothes on the floor—because apparently the universe wasn’t done torturing him yet.
He gathered the pile, telling himself he was just being the responsible older brother. The same responsible older brother who definitely hadn’t just jerked off thinking about the owner of these clothes. Christ.
The scent of honey and cherry blossoms clung to the fabric, that distinctive fragrance that belonged only to Haru. Aiden found himself bringing the shirt to his face before he could stop himself, inhaling deeply. The effect was immediate and overwhelming—a rush of comfort and desire that made his head spin. It felt like coming home and burning alive simultaneously.
Something about that scent bypassed his rational mind, triggering responses he couldn’t control or understand. It felt like a key turning in a lock, opening doors to feelings that had been waiting patiently for years.
The clean jeans caught his attention—trust Haru to leave perfectly good clothes in the bathroom. The boy would lose his head if it wasn’t attached to those delicate shoulders of his. Not that Aiden spent time thinking about Haru’s shoulders. Much.
After dumping everything in the washing machine, and steadfastly ignoring how domestic it felt to be washing Haru’s clothes, Aiden found himself walking toward Haru’s bedroom. The jeans were a flimsy excuse at best, he could have just left them outside the door like any normal person. But apparently, he was a glutton for punishment.
What the actual fuck are you doing? His conscience sounded suspiciously like Noah at his most judgmental. You just got off thinking about him, and now you’re going to his room?
He should turn around. He should definitely turn around. Instead, his knuckles met the door in a gentle knock.
“Haru?”
Because clearly, his common sense had taken a vacation along with his moral compass. At this rate, he’d be lucky if he didn’t spontaneously combust from the combination of guilt and wanting.
But God help him, he needed to see Haru one more time tonight. Needed to assure himself that Haru was still here, still close, still his in some small way. Even if it meant adding another entry to his ever-growing list of Things He’d Have to Confess If He Ever Found a Priest Willing to Handle This Level of Dysfunction.
The things he did for love.
Love.
Well, wasn’t that just the cherry on top of this sundae of inappropriate feelings?
Except it didn’t feel inappropriate. Not really. Not deep down where it mattered. It felt like fate. Like destiny. Like something written in his very DNA.
And if Haru truly loved someone else...
Aiden’s hand clenched into a fist against the door, his knuckles white with the effort of restraint. The pain in his chest intensified, a physical ache that made it hard to breathe. No. He wouldn’t allow it. Couldn’t allow it. The thought sent another wave of that strange, primal pain through him, making his breath catch.
He’d find a way to make Haru his. To show him they belonged together. To help him see what Aiden already knew bone-deep—that they were meant for each other.
Starting tonight.