Chapter 18
AREK
My tablet is propped against the wall with my siblings’ faces filling the screen as they watch me unmold dicks. Since most of my days and nights and every waking moment are filled with Kylen, I’m behind on everything about my Fuck You line.
Nolan helped me get this off the ground last year, and until now, I’d been able to keep up on my own relatively easily. As long as you have multiple molds of the same dick and mix large enough batches of the silicone, you can pour a dozen of the same one at a time.
Unmolding isn’t difficult either. I generally have a camera set up to watch me unmold, but I don’t have it today. Instead, I’m talking to my siblings.
“That might be my favorite shirt,” Rosalie says.
I glance down. Today’s reads, ‘Tell your dad to stop calling me.’
“I feel like there’s a story behind this one,” I respond.
Rosalie grins, shrugging.
“Actually, I should let Nolan wear it the next time he sees Kelsey,” I say.
My sisters laugh. I told them all about the drama here last year. Most of the time, watching people is just… entertaining. They’re always so filled with dramatics and fueled by unnecessary emotion that I can spend endless time simply watching and internally laughing.
“How’s it going with your guy?” Adalaide asks.
A smile curls my lips as I carefully pull the Roman G cock from its mold.
Roman is one of our Confessions regulars.
I’m not going to pretend he has a fan club like River did in Rumor, but his videos have a consistent search in our analytics.
I don’t need to watch the videos to know who to get dick molds of. I just look at the analytics.
“He’s good.” I pause in examining the cock in my hand and glance at my siblings. “Why do you think someone might not like their dick sucked or touched?”
Orev tilts his head as he considers my question.
“Maybe it’s something obvious like me,” Adalaide says, her voice soft. “Maybe he’s not comfortable in his body.”
I nod as I set the Roman G dick aside. “I thought about that, and while I won’t pretend to be an expert, he doesn’t appear to have the same… experience as you?”
Adalaide inclines her head. “Everyone is different.”
“That was my first guess,” I admit. “Something doesn’t fit right with that, though. I’m not ruling it out, but I’m not convinced that’s why.”
“Okay. What about he’s embarrassed by what he has?” Rosalie asks.
I nod and think about Kylen’s cock. There’s nothing wrong with it. Not at all. He’s perfect. Do I think he’s perfect because he’s mine? Maybe. But that’s not a big deal. No one else needs to approve of it anyway.
“Maybe, though he blushes all day, so I’m not sure I can distinguish if that’s the case.”
“Why don’t you just ask him?” Adalaide asks.
“I don’t want to push him,” I answer. “He tenses up whenever it comes to his dick. His breathing gets funny. His body is stiff. His entire personality folds in on itself, like he’s trying to escape.”
“That’s a lot of insight to someone else,” Rosalie says, smiling.
“I’ve spent a lot of time learning his body cues. I don’t think I’m right all the time, but because this is his hard limit, I’ve paid more attention to him regarding this.”
“What if he’s been abused?” Orev asks, and I tense, anger rushing through me like someone just threw a match into a propane tank.
“Abused,” I repeat.
“If someone had touched me in a way I didn’t want, I think I’d not like someone else to touch me there after,” Orev says, shrugging.
“No. You’d break their hands,” Rosalie counters.
“I’m thinking of different cases I’ve looked at,” Orev says. “Abuse victims hold trauma memories. Unwanted touch can leave a… residue behind, and if someone else touches that same area, it can be triggering to the time of their abuse.”
My cousins’ questions ring in my head. “Is that bad touch or good touch?” Brodrie and Sawyer were always asking us this question as kids whenever we had a bruise or laceration.
We thoroughly learned the difference between good and bad touch as kids because of them.
As we grew, that conversation turned to under-the-clothes bad touch.
My brother and I might be dissociated from the world because of our off-kilter wired brains, but we still understand the difference between good and bad touch.
Knowledge and understanding of this subject aren’t why I didn’t immediately go here.
I didn’t think about abuse because in my twenty-three years, I’ve never consciously met an abuse victim, which means I don’t have a parallel to relate Kylen’s behavior to.
Most of my understanding of people is based on similar experiences that I’ve come to be familiar with in life. Emotions and social cues I recognize, largely based on those of my siblings and cousins. Kylen’s behavior around his cock isn’t something I’ve come into contact with.
No one would dare abuse a Van Doren. Not if they want to live to see another day.
“Do I ask him if he’s been abused?” I ask.
“I think not in those words,” Adalaide says.
“I’ve been waiting for him to be comfortable enough to tell me on his own,” I say as I stare into the screen at my sisters. “I respect his boundaries, so it hasn’t been a conversation. But if I get too close—kissing his stomach—he’ll tense up and drag my face away.”
“I don’t think you should push him to talk about it if he’s not ready,” Rosalie says, “but maybe you can subtly make it known that you’ll listen if he wants to talk about it.”
“Subtly,” I deadpan. “Yes, I can do that.”
My sisters laugh.
“Maybe the next time that happens, casually suggest that you’re happy to listen if there’s something he wants to talk about while assuring him that you respect his boundaries, no matter the reason they’re there,” she says.
Casually. I don’t think she truly grasps how well I do casually. Probably as successful as I manage subtly. “Right,” I say and commit her words to memory. I won’t suck your dick, I respect your boundaries, and if you want to talk about why, I’m not going to judge you. “Okay. Sure.”
My brother gives me an amused smile. No doubt he understands exactly where my mind is. My sisters laugh again.
The door to my cock room opens, and three of my four on-campus cousins step inside. Okello skips to my back and leans over my shoulder to look at my siblings on my tablet screen. They beam. “Hey, Loren’s Van Dorens,” they greet.
There are twenty-three of us born within ten years.
We refer to each other as cousins, though our actual relation ranges from aunt to second cousin.
All of Granddad Jalon’s kids had kids more or less at the same time, as did his brothers.
And Granddad Jalon had a seventh child—a daughter, our Aunt Greylyn.
Because she’s our age, we just call her our cousin, though.
It was easiest to break us up into large groups to go home when someone called which Van Doren we belonged to.
Thus, we were always Loren’s Van Dorens.
Or the quads. Okello is one of Arath’s Van Dorens.
Daxton is one of Oxley’s Van Dorens. And Emric, the third cousin who entered my little workshop, is one of Myro’s Van Dorens.
My fourth cousin on campus is Juno, one of Voss’ Van Dorens.
“Sweet baby, Kell,” both of my sisters greet in unison.
Okello laughs and stands straight. They nudge my shoulder. “We’ve come to help you unsheath cocks. Where do you want us?”
I wave at the wall behind me, filled with molds of cocks that need to be opened. “Take your pick, but don’t mix them up. You can add them to their designated platoon on the inventory shelf when you’re finished.”
One wall is lined with shelves where my newly poured dicks go to cure. Another, with much deeper shelves, is where the inventory is lined up. The other two walls have tables and workstations.
“Your pile of orders is out of control,” Emric says as he picks up the stack of printed labels.
I glance at him as he thumbs through the stack.
“You want to fulfill orders? Go for it. They get shrink-wrapped and then put in a box with their specific card.” I nod my head in the direction of the boxes. “Shipping boxes are under the table.”
“I’m disappointed you’re not in something skimpy,” Rosalie says. I shift the tablet so my siblings can see the full room.
Emric flips her off. “Honestly, of all the hazing rituals that frats have, I’m alright if the worst that happens is I have to walk around with my dick out. I have a nice dick, so let everyone drool if they choose.”
“I’ve never seen anyone else wearing such sheer material as you’ve been in,” I tell him as I set another Roman G aside. “Someone wants to see your dick.”
He laughs. “I’ve heard that observation a few times.”
“When is induction?” Okello asks.
“Couple weeks, I think,” Emric says. “Right before or after Thanksgiving, so we end the term as members of DIK, and we can move in over winter break.”
“Which of the sex clubs are you going to star in?” Rosalie asks.
Emric hums. “I don’t know. I think the new BDSM one sounds fun.”
My sisters and cousins grin. As if it’s something they already knew.
“What about you, Kell? Dax? Which are you doing?”
Okello shakes their head. “None.”
“Why?” Orev asks.
I glance in their direction in time to see Okello’s usual smile glitch. As if they’re on the television, and the signal gets interrupted. They shake their head. “Just… don’t want to.”
Daxton grips the back of their neck briefly, and Okello looks up, giving him a smile. Dax kisses Okello’s forehead softly. “You’re beautiful. You know that.”
Okello sighs and turns back to the orders. I cock my head as I study them. I didn’t realize that Okello was self-conscious about their body. They’re always loudly happy and outgoing. It’s… uncomfortable knowing that they’re insecure.
“Did someone make you feel that way?” Orev asks.
I love that Orev almost always thinks exactly the same things I do.
Okello looks at the screen, eyebrows pinched in confusion. “Me?”
Orev nods, but I answer. “Yes.”
Their mouth curls into a crooked smile. “No. Of course not.” They look at Dax and then turn away.
“Then why are you—”
“Stop,” Adalaide says gently, cutting Orev off. “Don’t push, Orev.”
“You don’t need to go crazy protective,” Okello says, facing my brother and me. “I promise, no one has made me feel any particular way. It’s a me thing.”
“There’s nothing—” I begin.
“Arek,” my sisters and Daxton interrupt with firm tones, and I press my lips together.
Okello kisses my cheek. “I swear I’m fine. It truly is a me thing. Okay?”
I grip their wrist and think about the pronouns they’ve used since we were young. I glance at Adalaide and then back at Okello, trying to work out what might be right in front of me, and I didn’t realize that maybe they needed more support, like my sister did.
Okello hugs me fiercely and murmurs, “Not the same thing, but I appreciate you wanting to be on my side and fight for me like you do Ady. I’ll tell you if I need something, Arek, but I swear, I’m absolutely fine. Okay? Trust me?”
I huff. “Fine. Yes.”
“I love how much you love us and want to burn everyone alive to protect us,” Okello says. “But sometimes we’re our own worst enemies, so there is no villain to burn.”
“I hate everything out of your mouth right now,” Orev says.
Okello grins. “I know. I promise you, everything is fine. We’re allowed to struggle with anything about ourselves that we might not be comfortable with.
And if we’re born a little differently than everyone around us, even if no one sees the difference, it can be challenging to accept. But I’m working on my self-acceptance.”
“You need to make sure self-love is on the list of things to work on,” Adalaide says.
“It is,” Dax says. “I’m the keeper of the list Kell’s working on.”
Okello’s smile widens, and he nods. “He is, and he’s taking good care of me. I do have a lot of support, even if it’s quiet.”
“I hate that we didn’t know you’re struggling, Kell,” I say grumpily.
“No offense, but you get all crazy and want to plunge a knife into someone’s chest to eliminate the source of the unrest.” They kiss my cheek again and straighten. “There’s no one to kill right now, so…”
I watch Okello return to unmolding dicks beside Daxton with narrowed eyes. Dax meets my eyes, and while I don’t know exactly what he’s silently telling me, I think it’s some kind of assurance. He’s got this. He’ll protect Okello, just as he’s always done.
Huffing, I turn back to the half-freed dick in my hands and my siblings on the screen beyond.
Orev’s expression of dissatisfaction probably matches mine, but my sisters are smiling.
Small smiles. Understanding smiles. Understanding Okello’s personal battle or their brothers’ need to hurt an invisible someone who’s making Okello uncomfortable, I’m not sure. Probably both.
“So, you should be receiving a box tomorrow,” Rosalie says, and I turn my attention to her face on my screen. Her smile makes me narrow my eyes again.
“A box of what?” I ask. “If it’s a gag gift of dildos, I’m already up to my eyes in them.”
My siblings and cousins laugh. But I can tell by the smug smiles on my sisters’ faces and the glint of mischief in their eyes that it is a gag gift; I’m just off on the items I’ll find when I open it.
Sighing, I turn back to the dick in hand and let my family talk around me.
My attention turns away from Okello and back to Kylen.
I think about what Orev suggested and wonder if maybe he’s right.
If someone touched me in a way I didn’t like—well, I’d kill them.
At the very least, I would break a bone or two.
But what if I weren’t in a position to defend myself?
What if I were forced into receiving the touch?
If my brain worked like everyone else’s, how would I respond?
Would I set up walls and barriers to keep people from touching that same spot now that I am in control of my life? Now that I can defend myself?
Is this the answer, or am I still way off track? There is a chance he simply doesn’t like it. That answer feels wrong, but until I know the truth about why, I don’t have anywhere to go.
I won’t push Kylen to tell me. I don’t ever want him to feel like I’m forcing him to give up his control. While there are some places I struggle with consent—such as condom use—something that fucks with his mind isn’t one I’m willing to impose my demands on.
My sisters are right. I need to make sure he knows I respect him, always, and that if he wants to tell me, I won’t judge him.
I won’t be angry or disregard his reason or anything.
I’m going to be a safe space. I’m not entirely sure I know how to be a safe space for someone, but I will be.
For Kylen, I will be anything he needs me to be.
Even if I need to figure out what that means along the way.