Trust in Oneself, CH 19 (Patreon)

Paul was in the same conference room as before, only instead of standing he was sitting. It had been Arnold’s first word when he and Adam arrived, pointing to the comfortable chair that had been set to the side. The tiger had managed to imply in that one word that if Paul didn’t comply, there would be chains involved.

Or maybe that only came from the amount of threats Paul had heard thrown at one another by the brothers.

“You’re going to be happy to know,” Arnold said in a tone that made it clear Paul’s opinion didn’t matter. “That I’ve finally figured out what to do with you.”

Alex coughed and was ignored.

“You, Paul, are going to be our family representative in this little war the Practitioner roo dragged the cheetah into, because you just know that he’s going to come asking for us to help.”

Paul frowned. “I don’t think Grant forced-”

“Are you saying you aren’t interested in helping him and the rest of his ragtagged group?” Arnold asked. “I thought they were your friends.”

Paul waited for the tiger to throw up with how painful it looked to say that word. And said, “Of course,” when it didn’t happen.

The satisfied smirk a few of his... cousins- that was biologically accurate at least- gave him said he might have answered too quickly. Not that taking his time answering would change the answer. Paul wasn’t sure he could help, now that the ‘big guns’ were involved, but the idea of sitting at home, waiting for news of what had happened to Thomas or any of the others he knew who would take part in whatever was coming, didn’t sit well with him.

“So, you’re going to be in charge of a deployment of some of our best Royal Security men,” Arnold said, reading the table top before him.

“Of course, you’re sending my men into this mess.”

“Okay, change of plans,” Arnold continued without hesitation. “Aiden, let Brislow know Aaron isn’t interested in lending assistance, and that I’m going to need more time to find-”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t willing!” Aaron yelled. “I just don’t appreciate how you take for granted how my men are yours to play around with. It’s been ten fucking years, when are you going to accept that Royal is mine; you gave it to me!”

“What am I telling the cheetah?” Aiden asked, phone to his ear.

“Put that thing away,” Aaron said. “We all know you aren’t actually on the phone with him. This is just Arnie’s attempt at manipulating me.”

Aiden looked at Arnold, who shrugged.

“I’m sorry for distributing him, Louise,” he said. “Let Mister Brislow know we will be sending him the list of operatives when he’s ready to move.” He pocketed his phone and ignored the horrified look Aaron was giving him.

Paul tried to figure out if it had been an act, but he didn’t know these people well enough. He didn’t put it past any of them to do this just to mess with one another, though.

He knew them well enough for that; knowing that much only took five minutes.

“I don’t mean to sound... impertinent,” Paul said. “But do you really need me to be in charge of those people? I’m a biochemist. The extent of my experience in combat was mainly gained over the last week and can be summed up with, I lost consciousness a lot.”

“We’re going to address that in a bit,” Arnold said. “And yes, you need to be in charge. An Orr has to be in charge. Since it can’t be one of us, it’s got to be you.” He added in a grumble, “I fucking help save the world and the fucking Society still treats us like nothing more than second rat criminals.”

Paul wasn’t sure if the anger was about being treated like criminals, or second rate.

“And why can’t one of you do it?” he asked, trying not to think of how they’d rather sacrifice him than put their necks on the line.

“Because someone was an ego filled idio,” Anakin said. He wasn’t looking at his phone this time, but whatever his eyes were glued to on the table top was far more interesting than the meeting.

“I didn’t-” Aiden started. “Oh, you’re not referring to my ego this time.”

“I’m referring to horse dick over there.”

“Our brother,” Alex said, “got it in his head, for some stupid reason, that he wasn’t hung well enough.”

“Like anyone in our family has a small cock,” Adam said.

Albert looked at Paul. “Are you going to be the exception?”

“No,” Paul protested. He was small compared to Dietrich, but that was because everything about the man was oversized.

“Anyway,” Alex continued. “Because he can’t get it reversed anymore, our sons’ initiation, which should have taken place at least two years ago, had to be postponed. We can’t take a chance one of us will die before that happens.”

“Oh, fuck off. You guys are just jealous of my cock.” Aaron grabbed his crotch and shook it. “You all love getting fucked by it.”

“No, I don’t,” they all said in unison.

“Okay,” Paul said in the ensuing glaring. If one of them died before the son was initiated, it meant they wouldn’t have access to their power or even just magic. Paul understood their reluctance now. It did make him wonder how big Aaron was if it was forcing them to wait.

“Good,” Arnold said, glaring at Aaron for a few more seconds before focusing on Paul. “Then, all that’s left to do, before we make sure you’re ready for taking charge of our me, is to find out what your gift is.”

“My gift?”

Arnold nodded. “You do know how, as one of His men, you have been gifted with power. Right?”

“Yes. I can do phrases, not that I know any yet, and there’s my aura thing.”

“Yeah, how come I’m not feeling that?” Aaron demanded. “I thought any guy you wanted felt it.”

“And that's my genius of a brother,” Albert muttered.

“That’s the base family power,” Arnold said. “Brislow confirmed it, although why yours is broken like that I have no idea. We all have the version that actually works. On top of that we all have a gift, which means you have one too.”

“Okay, what is it?”

“Whatever you’re great at,” Aaron said, then grinned. “I kick ass.”

“You studied biology,” Alex stated. “So that’s your passion? Maybe he’s like Arthur was?”

“Biochemistry,” Paul corrected.

“When has there ever been two gifts that are the same?” Albert asked.

“Never know, Arnie here proved there’s an exception to everything that’s set in stone in our family.”

“My name,” Arnold said through gritted teeth, “Is Arnold, Alex. Use it, or I’ll melt all of your guns.”

“Good luck finding them all.” Alex looked at Paul and tilted an ear.

“Passion may be a strong word. I mean, yes I want to help men reach their full physical potential, and I went with biochemistry, but only because that seemed like the most effective way to do it.”

“So maybe his gift is getting men to reach their full potential?” Aiden asked.

“That seems too indirect for one of our gifts,” Albert replied. “If it was relating to that, it would be his studying that could be his gift, but while his scores are above average, they aren’t significantly so to indicate that’s what he’s passionate about.”

“I wasn’t,” Paul confirmed, remembering the late nights of studying and far too early mornings that followed and how if not for magic his friends used on him, he might not have been able to stick with those regiments.

“Alright,” Adam said, “then what else are you passionate about? If you dare tell me it’s driving, I am killing you right here.”

##### ##### #####

“I don’t know,” Paul snapped. It felt like the last hour had been him saying that to every question. He rubbed his temple. “I don’t know if the idea of flying a plane appeals to me; I’ve never thought about it before.”

The questions had started with somewhat mundane stuff, driving, which he’d said no. Cooking, which he’d shrugged off. Office work; he’d gagged at the idea of being stuck in a cubicle. Making stuff, and it gone on and on, the suggestions becoming more extreme as they seemed to run out of ideas.

Adam had been the one who had thrown out the idea of him flying a jet.

He stood. “Look. Clearly I’m not like you. I don’t have some innate gift at doing something. I’ve done stuff because it needed to be done. I wouldn’t even say I’m passionate about sex, and considering who’s my god now, you have to admit that puts me outside the norm.”

“So you’re saying there’s nothing you like doing?” Albert asked.

“No, of course not. With the right guy, I like sex. Fuck I’ll dance at the drop of a good beat. I like good food, and-”

“Fuck it! This is a waste of time!” Aaron yelled, getting up fast enough to send the chair flying back.

“Aaron,” Arnold threatened.

“Fuck off, Arnie. I’m not going to sit here, listening to this wannabe bemoaning the fact he isn’t good enough to be one of us.”

“I’m not bemoaning anything,” Paul protested, looking at the others for a clue as to how anything he’d said come across like that.

“Boo-oo-oo, I don’t have a gift. I want to be like you because you guys are the greatest,” Aaron mocked.

Paul strode forward, his building headache forgotten. “I never said I wanted to be like you. Are you fucking kidding me? Who in his right mind would want to be related to a thug like you? If Dietrich wasn’t my father-” Paul stepped aside the fist.

“What the fuck did you call me?” Aaron growled and swung again, instead of giving Paul a chance to answer.

Paul sidestepped this one too. “A thug.”

With a scream, Aaron came at him, and clumsily too. Paul had to be light on his feet to not get hit, but for someone who’d claimed to be kick ass, Aaron was kind of slow. Then again, Paul figured that this tiger’s gift was boasting.

Every miss seemed to make Aaron angrier, but did little for his accuracy. Paul ducked and weaved, tempted to grab the tiger’s arm and do a proper dip. He figured that would be too much for Aaron’s ego.

“Stop moving!” the tiger yelled, coming for him foaming at the mouth.

Paul decided to oblige, stopping long enough to catch the tiger by surprise, then dropping and kicking his legs out from under him. He stood and looked down at the stunned tiger.

Paul opened his mouth, then caught the motion and was moving. When he felt the tug, he pirouetted out of his jacket, leaving it in Arnold’s hand. He didn’t have the time to ask what was happening. The tiger came at him.

Unlike Aaron, Arnold knew how to fight. He didn’t throw himself at Paul. He came with jabs and swings and kicks and one move that had to be a dancing move. If any of them connected, Paul was sure he’d be on the ground, writhing in pain.

Only none of them did.

Shouldn’t one of them have by now?

Another difference between the two brothers was that Arnold wasn’t getting angry with the misses. His expression was calculating. Where Paul could believe Aaron was just swinging wildly, Arnold was too methodological.

“I think you made your point,” Alex said, “this wasn’t Aaron messing up.”

“I don’t mess up,” the tiger on the floor said, “I don’t see Arnold touching him either.”

“That’s my point, genius. Does anyone here think Art took away a few brain cells every time Aaron pissed him off?”

“Daily,” Anakin said.

“Can’t be,” Albert countered. “Aaron would be a drooling idiot if that was the case. Oh, I see what you mean.”

“Are you good?” Arnold asked Paul, keeping his distance and hands visible.

“What just happened?” Paul asked.

Arnold smiled. “What happened is that we found out what your gift is.”

“I so fucking want it,” Aaron said. He stood and undid his pants.

“What?” Paul stared at the way too big cock.

“Pull your pants back up, genius,” Aiden said.

“Are you telling me you don’t want his gift?” Aaron replied, pointing at Paul.

Aiden smiled. “Oh, I have plans for it. I want to see what those moves will look like on one of my dancers. I will definitely have a few of them for him to fuck.”

“What?” Paul asked again. Was Aiden seriously expecting him to fuck strangers?

“But after this whole Practitioner debacle is done with. What’s the point of getting fucked if his gift’s just going to vanish when he dies?” Aiden looked at Paul. “Sorry if that sound callous, but I have a business to run and I don’t let anyone fuck me if I’m not actually getting something out of it.”

Aaron already had his pants up. “Me neither. I don’t let anyone top me for nothing.”

“Your gift is still going to be useful for the men who are going to be going with you,” Arnold said, handing Paul his jacket back.

“I could die there,” Paul said to himself. Of course he could. Whatever Grant had to do to reforge Excalibur, the Chamber wasn’t going to just stand by and let it happen. There was going to be fighting, and when there was fighting, there was usually dying.

“Don’t worry. You’re going to get the best combat package it’s possible to get.” Arnold said.

Paul snorted. “You expect to turn me into what? Some secret ninja fighter with magic?”

“No. My gift is strength, stamina, and a solid resistance to just about every sickness out there,” Arnold said. “Despite appearance, Aaron’s gift is an adaptive combat sense that if he bothered doing anything with would make him a danger to anyone out there.”

“I am a danger to everyone out there,” Aaron protested.

“Alex is a master shooter. If it comes out a barrel, he will hit his target with it.”

“He’s getting my gift too,” Adam said. “I don’t want him to ever drive himself off a bridge again.”

“Come see me in a few years,” Anakin said, eyes still on the screen. “And I’ll pass on yours. Unlike these idiots, I have bodyguards to fight for me if it comes down to it.”

“I will take it, as I said,” Aiden said, “Once you return. How do you feel about signing? I can give you a great voice, along with a fair contract.”

Paul swallowed, realization setting in. The gift, the gifting. Aiden mention of him fucking some dances. They were going to-

“Okay, that’s enough,” Arnold said, raising his voice over the argument over who got first go at Paul. “Go to your clubs, work off your energy on your customers.”

“I’m fucking him, Arnie,” Aaron yelled. “After that fight, I earned it.”

“By your own fucking rules, he gets to fuck you. Or are you going to claim you won that fight? You’ll have your turn, Aaron, he needs your gift if he’s going to survive, but right now he’s about to make a run for it because we are scaring the shit out of him.”

“You’re not-” Paul started to protest and stopped as seven sets of eyes fixed on him. Okay, yeah. He was terrified.

“If you don’t want to go as far as your clubs,” Arnold continued, “then go to the lounge and work it off on the employees here. We have a new member of your family, so how about we show him we aren’t the savages everyone says that we are?”

Only two didn’t protest as they exited. Then Arnold led Paul to another room, a bedroom, in an office building. Yeah, the Orrs were definitely Society. As if the comment about sending the others to have sex with the working here had left any doubt.

“You guys are scary,” Paul said, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“And we are the softer, gentler version of the Orrs,” Arnold replied, leaning against the closed door.

“You’re kidding, right?”

The tiger shook his head. “You don’t get this screwed up overnight. It takes generation after generation of absolutely no sense of morality to get here.”

Paul had trouble believing it, but then, there had been mention of how their fathers would have killed a baby if they had known Paul existed. That didn’t speak of a solid moral center.

“So...” Paul trailed off, and Arnold approached. “What if I don’t want your gifts?”

“You’re not getting a choice in the matter. I’m sending you to represent our family in the middle of a war. I intent to make sure you survive it. That means making sure you get all the advantages I can arm you with. I know this isn’t how you like it, but it’s a sacrifice you are going to have to make.”

Paul swallowed and nodded.

“Hey, if it makes it easier on you, I’ll dance.” Arnold dia a few, horrible, tap dancing steps and Paul chuckled.

“You’ve been talking with my friends.”

“I like to have all the advantages I can get. We Orrs don’t tend to play fair.”

Paul looked up at the tiger. “You get it’s never actually about the dancing, right?” He was muscular in the way of someone with great genes who trained practically, instead of only with weights. “You can only dance well with someone you’ve gotten to know.” Paul had no problem envisioning the two of them, a few weeks down the line, after a few dates, having great sex.

“You saying you can’t get hard unless you know the guy?” There was incredulity in the tone.

Paul laughed. “Oh, I can get hard anytime I want; probably easier now then the last time I checked.

*[[ This might be the only thing that was changed enough to count as a change rather than a typo correct. And there were a LOT of typo corrections this chapter.But yeah, removing a joke about how Paul doesn't need to get hard for Arnold to fuck him, and replace it with a comment on what a connection to Him means for Paul. Given the rest of what is said in the paragraph, it feels like it fits.]] It’s just easier to get comfortable with a guy I know. To let my guard down, I guess. To want to be intimate with him.”

Arnold reached down and unbuttoned Paul’s shirt. “Look, you’re an Orr now. You’re going to have to learn a few things about what we do. This, what we’re about to do, it’s not about pleasure, or being intimate. It isn’t even about domination, no matter what Aaron likes to think.” He pulled the shirt off Paul. “This is a translation. It’s one of the few of actual value we have to the rest of the Society, these gifts we can grant. And trust me, we milk them for all their worth.”

Aaron took off the suit jacket. “You’re still going to have your intimate times, probably not with us since I doubt anyone in our family has the patience to get to know anyone. But we’re not taking your friends away. You’ll get to meet more guys, get to know them. You’ll get to live your life the way you want on the whole.”

He took off the shirt, then pulled the tank top under it off, revealing deep orange and black fur with vibrant white on his chest.

“You want to take them off, or you want me to do everything?” Arnold asked, undoing his pants.

Paul hesitated, then took his off too. He swallowed as he looked Arnold over. Paul couldn't remember ever feeling inadequate. Fuck, even Chima hadn’t made him feel that, and he had a monster of a cock to make anyone feel small. But it wasn’t just how big Arnold’s cock was. How thick. How hard. The guy had power, was power, and he knew it.

He could force Paul. He wouldn’t even have to touch him. All he had to do was want it, and Paul would be begging to be fucked. There was a sense about all of them that said they had no problem using their influence.

That Arnold wasn’t, that he just stood there with that power and waited was disconcerting. Paul stretched on the bed.

“You want this done and over with?” Arnold asked, climbing between his legs.

“I’d prefer enjoying it.”

Arnold chuckled. “Then you’re in luck. Some of the guys who just will not leave me alone have made strides towards teaching me to not be a selfish asshole.” He leaned down and paused, his muzzle over Paul’s cock. “Word of warning. They’ve had more success with the selfish part than the asshole one.” He licked the soft cock, then sucked it in his muzzle, playing with it using his tongue until it was hard, then he bobbed his head up and down.

Paul panted and raised his ass reflexively when he felt a finger between his cheeks, he didn’t know where the lube had come from, but he was glad for it. He bit his lower lip when the finger pressed against his ring, then gasped as Arnold sucked on his cock head, using the distraction to push the finger in.

“Asshole,” Paul whispered and the tiger chuckled.

Arnold moved the finger in and out as he sucked Paul off, sideways occasionally to stretch his ring. Paul grunted as his prostate was massaged. Then a second finger was added. His panting became heavier, his cock twitched in the muzzle. He whined lightly, closing his eyes and readying himself-

Cold air on his cock had his eyes open. Arnold was repositioning himself. He took Paul’s legs and moved them on his shoulder. When he noticed Paul watching in dismay he smirked.

“I told you I’m an asshole.”

Before Paul could formulate a response, the other tiger was pushing his cock in his ass, then he was trusting, then Paul gasped as a slick hand wrapped around his cock and pumped. The cock in his ass moved rhythmically, the hand kept switching tempo.

“Fuck.” The word stretched as his prostate was hit multiple times. Then Paul tensed and roared. As he came, Arnold jerked him off faster. And Paul cursed louder until the tiger let go and used both hands on his hips to hold him in place as he started pounding his ass hard.

Arnold muttered something Paul couldn’t make out, then let out a stretched ‘yes!’ as he hilted himself deep in Paul’s ass and came.

A heat pooled inside Paul, then spread throughout his body.

Arnold dropped next to him with a tired grunt.

Paul felt... good. Awake. Aware. Was that what having sex with a follower of his god would be like from now on? Thomas had explained how they gained energy in the act of sex, but he’d never described it like this.

Next to him, Arnold closed his eyes.

“You know,” Paul said, “I was under the impression you Orrs were unending pools of sex. Watching you now is sort of underwhelming.”

“Two things,” the tiger said, raising a hand. He lifted a finger. “One. Stop referring to us as different from you. You’re family, whether you decided to use Orr as your last name or not.”

“Okay, I’ll do my best. What’s the other thing?”

“You just wait until you’ve granted your first gift and then you come back and tell me about me seeming tired right now.”