First Kiss Or Not

Ayke and his brother really want to have a word or two with that arrogant prick Howie about his behaviour, seeing the look on his face as if they were the worst kind of pest. After all, they've come all this way to offer him their friendship, why is he annoyed? What ingratitude! But they refrained from doing anything rash, there was enough tension between them as it was.

"Our will is as unshakeable as yours, not to mention the fact that ours is multiplied by two, while you're on your own. It's two against one," he said, choosing to answer that way rather than add fuel to the fire, as if it were less provocative to say so.

"So I'd advise you to calm down and make room for us on your priority list from now on. Right, Aike?"

"Exactly," Aike replied, as smug as his brother, holding Howie's gaze as he looked at them in turn.

Howie opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again. There's really no point in arguing with these two who take it upon themselves to break into his house so early in the morning and threaten him. They've got a lot of nerve, those two.

They're really weird, he thinks. "OK, I get the picture," he mumbles to himself. "But first let me remind you that you're not allowed to come near me. Aike, we can't be more than one hundred metres apart. And finding you in my room at such an odd hour makes me uncomfortable. Who knows what's going through your head next time, hm?" he replied calmly, ignoring everything he'd just heard.

"Will this unfortunate incident follow me for the rest of my life, Mr Huckleberry? How many times do I have to apologise to you, Your Majesty?" Aike asked wryly.

"Ah, and you don't mean that." Howie replied with a look of amusement. He was amused by the choice of title.

"Okay, here's what we're going to do," Ayke quickly intervened before things got out of hand. "I'll keep an eye on my brother's murderous impulses and you, Aike, avoid arguing with Howie. As he said last time, he's a natural troublemaker, so let's find a happy medium for all our sakes. What do you say?"

Since Aike didn't reply to his brother's suggestion and Howie, on the other hand, put on a poker face, the latter felt obliged to add in his brother's direction.

"And don't forget that we need him to feel things in order to live them, just like that day in front of the café. Are you with me, brother?"

"Absolutely," Aike answers, this time looking down at the ground. He doesn't know why, but when it comes to Howie it's really hard for him to stay calm. It only takes Howie to open his mouth for him to want to jump down his throat.

This last sentence caught Howie's attention, prompting him to emerge from his icy cocoon and ask a question on the subject. "Wait a minute," Howie said, "what on earth are you talking about? What exactly happened outside the cafe, apart from the fact that I was almost hit by that car? What did I miss?"

From the look on Ayke's face, it looked like they had hit the jackpot, which didn't bode well for Howie. He almost died that day, there was nothing fun or exciting about it, why does Ayke look like he's experienced something else?

Did the twins like the fact that he was almost run over by a crazy driver? They're really sick, those two. But then, rich people have strange hobbies, who is he to judge?

"Er..." The twins stammered, looking at each other in embarrassment.

"Nothing really happened, but we noticed something. We'd like to experience it, and it's only when we're close to you that we feel these sensations." Aike took it upon himself to explain the situation more clearly.

Now they stutter, that's all they needed. It seems they still haven't gotten over their surprise at this dear Howie.

"Wait, not so fast, boys." Howie intervenes, his curiosity piqued this time. "If I understand correctly, you want to be my friend in an experimental setting, is that right?"

"Uh... no, no... it's not exactly what you say, but... "Aike replied, fluttering. He turned to his brother to help him explain what they wanted to convey, but his dear brother decided not to lift a finger. He let him struggle like a poor devil to explain to Howie the purpose of their friendship.

After what he did during the game, Ayke is always trying to find the right words in front of Howie so that they don't end up at each other's throats.

This is the difference between Howie and his brother. They don't pull any punches with each other. They say things the way they want to, without trying to kill each other no matter what they say. When it comes to Aike, things often take a dramatic turn, even if they don't say anything to each other.

"OK! Forget it, I give up, OK. I hope you're happy. You don't want to be my friend, so I don't want to be either, period." Aike exploded, it didn't take much for him to lose his temper.

Normally he has everything under control, and it's not that he's a bad boy, it's just Howie's effect on him.

"It's not like you could be the only person who could make us feel such a need to look back on our lives, to want to break the rules and live our own lives like real teenagers, is it?" He finishes his tirade in one breath, flushed with anger, or maybe he's just upset about being rejected, who knows.

While he was clearing his head by pouring out his frustration, Ayke made his way to Howie's bed without either of them noticing. He tested the firmness and quality of the mattress before sinking full length into the half-crumpled sheets.

Looks like someone isn't acting like a lunatic in their sleep, he thought as he closed his eyes.

Oh, it's good to sleep in," was his last thought before he fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.

"Hey!" Howie said calmly, feeling sorry for Aike. "Easy champ, we'll take it from the top. How do I make you feel?" he asked to change the subject.

Annoyed by his condescending tone, Aike glared at him and put his hand to his forehead, feeling a migraine coming on. "There's really nothing we can do with you," he grumbled.

"I just want to understand, but if you're not ready and willing to talk to me in clear sentences and words without that look of disgust on your face, then we'll say you had no further business here." Howie replied, aware that he could be annoying in the way he talked to people as if he was talking down to them, but he couldn't help it, that was the way it was.

"You know the way out." Without a second glance at Aike, Howie headed for his dressing room to pick out something to wear. It was about time he covered up properly, if his mother was there he'd be in big trouble.

The mornings are a bit chilly and his mum always makes sure he's warm during those hours, but Howie is Howie.

He likes to sleep naked and walk around like he was born when he finishes his bath. That's why his bedroom has been renovated to hide the bed from prying eyes.

That way, if someone comes in without knocking, which his mother does most of the time, it avoids him to be seen in Adam's clothes.

He likes the feel of the sheets on his skin and loves that his bed is always fresh and clean.

Aike knows that he can't do anything with this idiot, he's a lost cause. He's never met anyone so stubborn and distant, and sometimes he can even come across as arrogant and smug.

So he looked around for his brother, but couldn't find him where he had been before. Slightly panicked, he turned sharply in Howie's direction. "Where is he..." the rest of his sentence hung in the air, stunned by the image that had overwhelmed him. "...gone," he finished his question in a barely audible whisper.

"What?" Howie asked in a muffled voice, standing in a most bizarre and natural position, considering he was putting on his T-shirt, but at the time proving a little exotic in the opinion of someone else here.

His arms raised above his head, his head buried in the black T-shirt he had put on before Aike had asked him that question, in which he had detected a semblance of panic.

The panic he sensed in his voice made him interrupt his gesture to pay more attention to him. But in his manoeuvre, he completely forgot that the position he was in was not comfortable, and, what's worse, he did not even realise how attractive he was in this bizarre pose.

Unfortunately, for his interlocutor who had to swallow a mouthful of saliva to moisten his dry throat and his suddenly dry lips.

The muscles in his body were all tense, contracting at the slightest movement. Aike could count every muscle with such precision that anyone would take him for a madman.

Without knowing why or how, Aike swallowed a mouthful of saliva that seemed so sweet it kept filling his mouth. Then he decided to look anywhere but at the sculpture in front of him, which was both confusing and absurd.

Howie couldn't hear him say a word or even breathe, so he hurried to put on his T-shirt to see what was bothering Aike. He might be harsh with him, but that doesn't mean he hates him or enjoys watching him suffer in silence like a toy soldier. His behaviour towards Aike is unprecedented, that's how it is.

He knew the twins were unhappy, but they did everything they could to hide it from people. Behind their masks he could see who was who and what united them, apart from being identical twins. They had only themselves and couldn't rely on anyone else, and they were afraid that one day someone would take that away from them.

"Hey," Howie said softly, "what's wrong? Don't worry..." he used the same soft, low tone so as not to frighten him.

"I'll find...we'll find a way for us to be friends without wanting to slit each other's throats every time we..."

"Can you kiss me?" Aike asked in a hoarse, unrecognisable voice, cutting him off. He could not finish his sentence when Aike made this request that left him speechless.

Howie's eyes widened as he took in the words and the meaning of Aike's request. Where did this request come from?

Howie, who usually had a stockpile of questions and answers, found himself speechless after understanding the request that had been addressed to him.

The little brat had taken him completely by surprise, and he didn't like it.

Disarmed, he just stood there and looked at Aike without making a sound or even moving.

He blinked again and again, not only because it was the only movement he could manage at the moment, but also because he didn't know how to react to what he had just heard.

Meanwhile, Aike came back to reality and understood the mess he'd gotten himself into, cursing the uncontrollable impulses that tormented him.

Gradually, he came out of his stupor and his expression changed to a mask of fear. Then there was confusion on his beautiful, peaceful face, which had once been a cold, impenetrable mask, devoid of emotion or anything of the sort.

He took a hasty step towards the door and called out the only name that could bring him any comfort or sanity at the moment, "Ayke!" But Howie grabbed his arm and stopped him from taking another step.

He pulled a panicked Ayke gently towards him and took a step in his direction to cover the few centimetres that separated them, without hesitation he leaned over his lips and captured them in a chaste and fluid kiss, then a deeper and more intimate kiss that lasted a minute or two or more. They don't know.

Howie kissed him like that until Aike ran out of oxygen and broke their embrace. Howie doesn't know why he did it, but he did.

The kiss ignited a blazing fire in Aike and he turned as red as a peony, his breath coming in short gasps, his lips slightly swollen and his heart beating a hundred times an hour, his eyes wide open in astonishment.

He's a hundred times more stunning in this state, but he doesn't know it.

Howie smiles belligerently, that famous mischievous smile that comes to his lips when he has a Machiavellian thought in his head or when he is pleased with himself.

"He's in my bed," he said softly in an amused tone, answering Aike's question by pointing to the bed with a shake of his head, as if what he'd just done was normal. He was unflappable and in complete control over himself and emotions.

Aike followed his gesture with his eyes and found his brother lying in the bed of the man he'd just kissed as if their lives depended on it, his first kiss no less, calm and peaceful as a baby in a deep sleep.

He envies him for responding so well to these sources of emotion that have threatened to drown them these past few days.

He feels he's living it for them both, that he's alone in this struggle. While he fought like mad to contain these deadly waves of emotions, his brother became a kind of vessel, compatible with everything, allowing himself to be swayed by the same waves that were trying to swallow him mercilessly.

"Lord!" he exclaimed, offended and frustrated, "Is he really sleeping in there?"

"I think so," Howie answers calmly, as usual.

Aike takes a step aside, away from Howie. The heat radiating from his body is like a burning ember that wants to consume his soul. He had to avoid any contact with Howie, and quickly. Without waiting, he made his way to the bed where his brother lay in a foetal position, his head resting on his arms.

He started to awaken him, but Howie stopped him by placing a gentle, reassuring hand on his arm. The touch made him jump and instantly ignited a new fire in his belly. If he hadn't had any control left, he would have done something worse. What the hell!

"Let him sleep!" he said without taking his hand from his arm, even though he saw Aike flinch at his touch. "It's Saturday, there's no hurry, is there? You can rest a little if you want, it's a big bed."

Aike managed to slip out of the grip of the warm hand that was torturing him without looking up. He pulled away from Howie for the second time, as if Howie was an incurable wound.

Howie looked at him for a moment before deciding to finish dressing up properly. Luckily he wasn't the one who had made this crazy request, he had just agreed to help. So, why is Aike the one who feels uncomfortable? He was content in his arms a minute ago, wasn't he?

He went back to his dressing room, grabbed a pair of black tracksuit bottoms and opened a drawer where he pulled out a pair of socks that were as black as his T-shirt and tracksuit bottoms. He grabbed a pair of red trainers, which he didn't put on until he was at the bottom of the stairs.

Before leaving the room, he took one last look at Ayke, who had followed his advice and lay down behind his brother's back. He put his right arm around Aike's narrow waist, and his hand rested gently on his brother's stomach, his head buried in his back as he sought comfort and clarity.

Howie understood that Aike hadn't wanted to talk to him since the first time he'd walked away from him without saying anything, but he wanted to confirm that by trying to touch him. He is not the type to jump to conclusions easily without evidence. He needs to be fair to retaliate.

He left the room, half-closing the door, leaving them behind as if they had the right to be there, as if they were at home.

He bumped into Alfred and his father, who were chatting animatedly about racing cars of all kinds over steaming cups of tea and heavenly-smelling croissants. For him, paradise was eating the things he was forbidden to eat.

"He offers them to strangers," he says to himself, "but I'm only allowed once a month."

Biscuits, croissants and cakes are rare in his diet, not to mention fast food, which is completely forbidden, a big NO.

His father spotted him and stood up, apologising to Alfred, who turned in his chair to follow his gaze. He met Howie's piercing gaze and remembered the young man Aike had saved from certain death or worse.

"He looks good," he said to himself with a touch of sadness. Howie's hair was in a hasty bun, he noticed. The last time he had let it loose, it had fallen down his back in a silky cascade.

He scanned Howie up and down, whilst Howie eyed him like a football coach at a recruitment fair.

"What are you?" Howie asked in a bad mood. A bad mood he couldn't explain. "Their watchdog?"

"Howie!" His father called him to order with authority, to remind him of his inappropriate behaviour.

He looked at his father without a hint of emotion and turned to Alfred, who had risen quickly from his chair.

"I'm Alfred, their chauffeur," he replied modestly, ignoring Howie's insolent look and nasty tone. They're teenagers, who are all naughty at one time or another. So he didn't take Howie's disrespectful tone personally.

"Never mind," Howie replied, looking down at Alfred. "They're in my room, asleep. I'm going for a jog, I need to run a bit." His last two sentences were directed at his father.

His father opened his mouth to say something but he cut him off and continued. "You've got a guest, you don't have to come with me and I'm not planning on going too far anyway."

"And if they wake up before I get back, tell them I'll see them on Monday." Then he turned on his heel and left the yard, giving his father no time to question or insist on his words.

He turned back to Alfred for a moment and spoke to him in a less hostile tone than before.

"It's been a pleasure meeting you, Alfred. I'm sorry about earlier, but you'll get used to it, I can feel it." In the blink of an eye, he was back to being the well-behaved child Marc was trying so hard to raise.

Then he walked away without looking back or giving Alfred time to answer.

Alfred didn't want to say another word anyway, he didn't want to be eviscerated by this boy who had an aura far too powerful for a child. He turned back to Marc, who seemed lost in thought for a moment.

"Is everything all right, Mr Huckleberry?" and yes, he'd realised he'd been out of line in calling Marc Mr Buckleberry. He corrected himself after Marc had introduced himself.

"Yes, my boy, everything's fine," Marc replied, gently snapping out of his thoughts. "Everything's fine," he repeated quietly, as if to convince himself.

"Call me, Marc. I have a feeling we'll be seeing a lot of each other," he said with a smile.

Howie has never had any friends, and he hates people touching his sheets or coming into his room, so here he is, casually announcing that there are two people sleeping in his bed.

‘I didn't think he'd not only let the boys in, but let them sleep in his bed. I was right to let them up in the end,’Marc thinks, still looking happy. This is a new day in his son's life.

"Well, let's go back to where we started," he said to Alfred, who was looking towards the exit where Howie had just disappeared, before they sat down again at the small coffee table.

A few hours passed and Marc could no longer follow the conversation when he saw 9:30 on his watch. Howie had been gone for over two hours.

He felt a wave of panic sweep through his mind, but at the same time, he tried to remain calm. He kept staring at the big fence, and his fear was becoming more and more visible, so much so that Alfred put down the sketches Marc was showing him to try to calm him down.

"If you're so worried, why don't we go and look for him? I'll come with you; you know his usual route, right?"

"No, no, it'll be fine... he'll be back," Marc replied with a nervous chuckle.

Whilst they were talking, footsteps inside the house caught their attention.

They both turned towards the front door to find Aike, who at first glance looked completely disoriented.

His hair was a little dishevelled and his lips were slightly swollen and extremely pink.

Alfred smiled happily to see him like this; he'd never seen the twins in anything other than immaculate, well-groomed condition. It was the first time in his eleven years of service that he had seen either of them look so natural and childlike. Not to mention the fact that he'd been working for them since they were children.

He thinks the environment suits him very well and that little moment of bewilderment in his eyes was charming. He no longer looks like a machine that knows everything and has to be in control; he's human and childlike.

Now he understands why they were so excited at the idea of their parents being away for the next two months. It's the first time the boys have shown such joy at the news of their parents' departure.

This morning, they insisted that Alfred take a day off, but he thought it was too early to let them go out without him in case Maryse and Lucian changed their minds and decided to come home and cancel the meeting.

Sometimes they plan a business trip and then change their minds, although this time they were excited about meeting this businessman.

Maryse didn't want to miss the chance to meet whoever this person was and decided to go on her husband's trip. In a way, Maryse is now part of the company.

So early on a Saturday morning, the boys were out on the streets of New York looking for Howie's flat. They're used to getting up early and it's becoming a habit for them. They're programmed to get up early, whether it's a bank holiday or a day off.

"So, did you sleep well?" Marc asked tenderly, putting aside for a moment the worry that was overwhelming him.

"I'm hungry," Aike replied with a yawn. He yawned without bothering to put a hand over his mouth. This made Marc and Alfred laugh heartily and Aike followed them shyly, realising what he had done.

He reminds Marc of the times Howie lets himself go like a child, forgetting everything around him, forgetting the demons he has to face, the etiquette, and so on. He reminds him of his little boy.

"Sorry," Aike hastily says, hiding his face in his hands. "No, no," Marc replies, "there's no need to apologise, there's nothing to forgive. Let's just get this little inconvenience out of the way." "And is your brother awake?"

Marc is a natural with children, and when you have a son like Howie, patience and tolerance have become areas in which you excel.

"Not yet, he's still asleep. I don't understand, I didn't want to go to sleep, I just lay down a little bit against my brother, looking for a little bit of security and comfort, and here I am. And he's still asleep, like he's never slept in his life," he complained with a surprised look on his face.

A flash of panic crossed Alfred's eyes, then he rose abruptly from his chair as if on fire. "Ouch! Relax a bit, Alfred. He's fine," Aike said amused, even though Alfred had startled him.

The twins don't have a personal bodyguard following them around. They've never needed one, as their parents are upright people, but that doesn't mean they don't have an agency on standby.

Their father always refused their mother's request to have them followed because he thought Maryse was overdoing it.

Marc led Aike in his wake into the kitchen and led him to a black wicker stool by the kitchen's marble centre island.

Alfred followed them without a word, leaning against the kitchen door and admiring the spectacle: Aike allowing himself to be petted without embarrassment or a gesture of disgust. What a sight!

What's going on here? he wondered, shaking his head. One thing's for sure, the boys have found a home since their villa isn't one. According to Alfred, the atmosphere in the villa is nothing like a loving home or anything like that.

As someone whose parents left him penniless when he was very young, he knows what it's like to have a warm and loving home.

"That's good news," he said, almost playfully.

"What's the good news?" a voice asked behind him. Alfred startled at the sound of the voice he hadn't even heard coming, let alone expected, and jumped like a deer caught off guard.

"Bloody hell! "I nearly wet myself," he said, shaking slightly as he glared at the culprit, who had nearly sent him through the ceiling by jumping so hard at the sound of the voice.

He was so engrossed in the contemplation of his protégé and his new friend that he failed to notice the presence of Howie in the room, who was now scrutinizing him with an accusatory and predatory gaze, as if accusing him of lacking control over his nerves on the one hand, and on the other, as if he were an appetizing piece of meat that he would devour at the slightest misstep, a devilish smile on his lips.

"You'd make a good high jumper if you took up that sport, you've got a good jump," he says without wiping the smile off his face, which is starting to give Alfred the creeps.

"The lad isn't alone in his head," Alfred thinks, trying to shrink as much as possible to avoid Howie's gaze.

He stares at Howie with concern, which makes Howie even more still, Alfred's fear doing him good.

What's scarier, Alfred wonders: having twins you can't identify, or having a single child with a billion people in his head?

He'll never know the answer to that unless the parents in question are sincere in trying to unravel the mystery, which they probably won't be.

Since Howie won't take his eyes off him, he takes the initiative to look away, returning his gaze to the beautiful painting he was admiring before his disruptive arrival. Unfortunately, he can no longer concentrate, knowing that Howie is there, probably staring at him like a deranged psychopath.

He keeps trying to look over his shoulder to make sure Howie isn't still staring at him, but he can't bring himself to do it until he gives up the idea, it's too much for him.

Meanwhile, a cute, furry puppy runs past him and heads straight for Aike, who's sitting on the black stool, lost in a rather animated conversation with Marc.

"I'll eat whatever you make for me," Aike said cheerfully to Marc as he dug into a bowl of dried fruit on the black marble island.

"I hope you have an appetite. My son eats like a chicken, but when it comes to junk food, he devours it like a pig." Marc replied just as heartily now that the fear that had frozen his lungs had gone.

Aike burst out laughing as he listened to Marc describing his silly son; it was really nice to hear him laugh without any inhibition.

At the same time, two furry little paws touched his leg and he was caught off-guard and let out a high-pitched scream that shook the whole house. Marc was startled and dropped the earthenware bowl he was holding, which fortunately landed on the soft carpet without causing any damage.

Howie, on the other hand, ran into the kitchen and bumped into Alfred, who found himself face first against the wall with a small bump on his forehead, which he began to rub vigorously, shooting a murderous look at Howie, who didn't even bother to look at him, let alone apologise.

He did it on purpose, he knew deep down that Howie was abusing him for his own pleasure.

"Ravi!" Howie yelled at the pup responsible for Aike's scream, "How many times do I have to tell you to stay away from strangers? they may not be what you think they are. I know you have a good nose, but you've got to listen to me on some things, OK?"

"So, just as a precaution, wait until I tell you whom you can trust," he contented himself with lecturing his puppy, not really caring about the other people in the room.

He took the puppy in his arms and cuddled it like it was the most precious thing in the world. Indeed, the cute little ball of fur is precious.

The little animal seemed to be frightened by Aike's frightened cry. Ashamed, Aike hid his face in his arms and lay down on the island. He should have looked before he screamed like a hysterical girl.

As he stroked his puppy, Howie watched him out of the corner of his eye, not doing anything to help him feel less embarrassed or to apologise for scaring him.

Marc picked up the bowl and walked around the island to stand next to Aike, putting a comforting hand on his back and giving him little pats of encouragement. Aike jerked his head up and hid his face in Marc's shirt, who burst out laughing. He's so cute!

"Don't be embarrassed, no one told you there were dogs in the house. And someone here doesn't seem to care that they're responsible for all this." Marc stares at his son, who doesn't care about his father's gaze.

He is not going to apologise. That's a fact. On the contrary, Aike should be the one to apologise for scaring his puppy, the poor thing is shaking all over.

"Why didn't you tell me you were back?" Marc asked Howie. "You could have avoided scaring your friend to death," he said, urging him to apologise without saying it clearly because the moment Howie crossed the boundary of their house, he knew.

"He's the one who scared my Ravi," he replied, deciding not to pick the peach his father was offering him.

"I didn't know there was a puppy in the house, I didn't notice it when I arrived this morning," Aike replied in his defence, his head still buried in Howie's father's shirt. "I'm sorry, Mr Huckleberry," he said in a small, muffled voice.

Howie looked at them boredly, then rolled his eyes and walked over to a stool perpendicular to Aike's, still holding Ravi in his arms.

"Come on, lad, it's not your fault, you don't have to apologise." Marc replied, still patting Aike on the back. "Did you get them all back?" Marc turned to his son to change the subject, as Howie didn't want to apologise and he didn't want to make Aike feel worse than he already did by insisting with his son. "They're all here, I ran over to pick them up."

"Are you out of your mind, Mr Huckleberry?" Marc asked Howie, raising his voice and feeling a little shaken by the news.

"Father, it's all right, I'm here. I just needed to think and clear my head. "I'm back safe and sound, there's no need to make a fuss," he shrugged off his father's concern as if it were nothing.

"I'll make a fuss all the time, just like you'll make a fuss all the time," his angry father replied.

"What a drama queen," Howie replied amusedly.

"Dad, it's OK, I'm here," he said tenderly.

As father and son talked, Aike tried in vain to escape Marc's embrace, but Marc, unconsciously applying pressure with his comforting hand, forced him to stay still.

Aike tried twice more before giving up. He thought it would be wiser to wait than to force Marc to let him go, since it was clear that Marc didn't realise what he was doing to him. So it wasn't a question of struggling against Marc's firm grip again, otherwise he'd be limping like wood under Marc's hand.

Howie and Alfred watched his futile attempts, one amused by his desperation to get out of Marc's embrace, the other mentally trying to help him.

It's like leaving the wheel to our crazy friend who loves speed and all things dangerous. We swerve and brake for him. That's Alfred's situation right now.

Aike decided to stay put and wait for them to calm down a bit, this father and son combination is very dangerous.

Howie climbed down from the stool he was sitting on, stroking his puppy, and approached his father. He coldly untied Aike by pushing him roughly to one side before taking his place in his father's arms, who put his arms around him without noticing how rudely Howie had treated Aike. Marc was just pleased that his son wanted to be cuddled.

He couldn't remember how hard he'd tried to follow the doctors' recommendations to give Howie plenty of physical contact before he let himself be approached. And here he was, of his own free will, snuggling up to him. He must be dreaming.

"Look, I'm here, safe and sound, so stop it," he whispered to his father.

Aike was stunned by Howie's arrogance and rudeness, and grabbed his arm like a dirty old sock. He sulked like a child, ready to burst into tears, but he held back, lest his emotions get the better of him and make him lose face in front of this ruthless boy.

Alfred approached the group and sat down on a stool next to Aike, still feverishly rubbing the small bump on his forehead. He felt that Aike needed emotional support right now, even if he didn't dare touch him, but at least he was there with him, close this time.

Howie stepped out of his father's embrace, leaving Ravi in his arms. He walked over to the huge, fancy fridge and grabbed an ice pack. They've got lots of them, hot and cold, God knows why.

He took it to Alfred, who looked up at him, a little surprised at his change of attitude towards him.

"Yeah, he's definitely not alone in his head," Alfred confirmed as he took the ice pack.

But as his fingers touched the cold pack, he noticed the mischievous look and sly smile that suddenly replaced the angelic face he had seen for a minute.

"That's for sure, that's not healthy at all," he said, looking everywhere but at the person in front of him.

As he moved, Howie patted him on the shoulder, as friendly as it was threatening. Aike, for his part, avoided any direct or indirect contact with Howie, who didn't seem to care whether he was in the room or elsewhere.

Marc had gone back to preparing breakfast and the boys sat there, a little embarrassed, without saying a word.

"Why don't you introduce them to your friends?" Marc asked his son cheerfully.

"I don't think they'd like them," Howie replied calmly with a grimace, declining to introduce his companions to people he thought were uninteresting.

Marc stared at him blankly, knowing all too well when his son was being a diva. He whistled, and a pack of dogs entered the kitchen, wagging their tails in a friendly manner.

"Oh my God!" Aike exclaimed a little excitedly. "Are they all like Ravi, Mr Huckleberry?" He asked Marc before touching them; the puppy seemed nice, reassuring, and friendly.

"If you're asking me if they're sweet and innocent, I'd say no, because some of them have inherited their father's bad temper," Marc replied, nodding to Howie who pretended not to hear them. Aike smiled as he quickly looked in Howie's direction.

His surprise was as big as the round eyes he opened to find Howie staring at him in a mad way. He lowered his eyes as quickly as he had raised them.

He didn't know why, but he had the feeling that this time he had aroused genuine hostility in Howie. This time he'd opened the door to real indifference towards him for good. He felt himself drifting away from him without even starting their friendship.

"Bloody hell!" Aike exclaimed mentally.

Alfred was a reluctant witness to this unfortunate scene. The smile he had shown earlier, as he saw his young employer thrilled by the sight of the dogs, immediately faded from his lips.

He too had sensed the change in Howie's demeanour; there was an unprecedented hostility emanating from the teenager.

He knew from his experiences of the last few hours that this boy, Howie, was a little disturbed, but he hadn't shown any signs of disgust towards them before, despite his harsh words and behaviour. But this was different, he must hate Aike, no, Ayke.

There's something wrong with them, but what is it?

He looked at them in turn, but when it came to Howie, Alfred felt his whole being recoil and, without making a fuss, gave up the idea of even giving him a sideways glance.

Howie, on the other hand, was waiting for him with a look that reflected his inhuman feelings towards all the people sitting in that big kitchen.

Marc took on the task of presenting Howie's package to the excited Aike whilst he cooked. Each time he mentioned a name, the owner would present himself like in a circus, and Aike couldn't stop laughing as he watched them bowing, happy to have found a way out.

Alfred decided to share the boy's good mood, trying as best he could to forget the murderous look he felt at the back of his neck.

"For everyone's sake," Marc said, "at least they've been well trained, because they haven't inherited the mule's head from the one you already know."

And they giggled even more under Howie's piercing gaze. There are four huskies, the divas of the house, the spitting image of Howie. Their names are Mev, Sin, Lucky and Rick. There are also two adult Golden Retrievers, Paige and Roy, and two baby Retrievers, Ravi and Pin, the sweethearts of the house.

After a good while of chatting about everything and nothing, ignoring Howie who refuses to share their good mood, Marc, being a good host, takes over the conversation to break the stifling atmosphere his son has brought with him.

The corner of the island where he sits seems light years away from the rest of the kitchen, cold and sinister. It's frightening how powerful his aura is.

Marc has taken it upon himself to explain to them how the two groups of dogs are similar to and different from their master, or father as Marc often says, while he prepares lunch, which is almost ready.

"I hope it won't be long before our Sleeping Beauty wakes up, I'll be with you in a moment." He announces as he prepares the last of their sumptuous breakfasts.

"We have scrambled eggs, omelettes, French toast, toast with garlic butter, pancakes, waffles, bacon, yoghurt, jam, smoked ham, a big bowl of all kinds of fruit, chocolate, green tea, cheese, honey, cereal, milk and freshly squeezed orange juice, flavoured water, all one hundred percent organic. I squeezed it this morning." Aike listened, mouth watering, as Marc listed everything he had prepared in less than an hour. “Howie, could you please check if our sleeper is awake?"

The delicious smell from the kitchen made Aike and Alfred feel sick all the way through the preparation, and now that it's ready to eat, it's almost hard for them to keep their satisfaction to themselves. But they've made the effort - Howie's in the room.

Aike, however, is conflicted. Is it the fact that it's the first time he's eaten at a friend's house, or is it the hunger that gives him this strange feeling? As if he'd never eaten anything good in his life.

The smell made them even hungrier than before, as they hadn't eaten anything before going out. The twins had been too excited to eat, and now hearing Marc talk about everything he'd prepared made their hunger unbearable.

Besides, it smells so good that they could just sniff it and feel satisfied and full if they had no choice, but this feast had been prepared especially for them. There was no denying it, they were in for a treat.

"No need, he'll be down soon," Aike interjects, almost bouncing up and down in his seat like a child.

He hasn't taken his eyes off the food Marc is preparing on the island. His statement makes Marc raise an eyebrow and smile discreetly.

"Interesting," he murmured, finding the information quite useful. He glanced at Howie, who shrugged.

As he placed the plates down, an invigorated Ayke burst into the room like an overexcited puppy. "I feel like I haven't slept in years, but now I have a place to sleep when I need a rest," he announced happily.

He crossed the room and went to plant a kiss on Howie's right cheek in front of everyone, not caring about the astonished and horrified looks that were directed at him.

Howie didn't dodge or push him away, on the contrary, he smiled and pulled Ayke happily to him. "I'm glad you slept well too," he replied to his guest's enthusiasm and patted him on the shoulder.

Aike looked at them with a mixture of horror, sadness, and joy. To see his brother so happy and relaxed at a time when he had been reluctant to make friends with Howie made him happy because the good feelings his brother was experiencing at the moment were also coursing through his body.

However, he was saddened to see his brother throw himself at a stranger 's neck with such confidence and eagerness when he was in the same room nearby. This behaviour, this warmth, should be his, not for a stranger's. An arsehole, to boot.

"See, you can be cuddly when you want to," Marc remarked to his son, who let himself be carried away by his friend's good humour.

Howie gave him an indignant look and then stuck out his tongue like a five-year-old with a small, almost non-existent smile, but his father saw it because his eyes lit up.

It was there, and if Marc wasn't strong enough, he would have had a heart attack on the spot. How long had it been since he had seen his son's eyes light up like that? He can't even remember.

And suddenly the atmosphere in the kitchen became light, all the aggression and hostility that had made it unbearable dissipated as if by magic.

Alfred felt the change immediately, glancing around the room to make sure the pressure on them was gone. He raised an eyebrow in surprise before turning his gaze to the people around him, this time looking fearlessly at Howie.

Ayke marvelled at seeing so many dogs together under one roof without anyone pushing them away or mistreating them. He left the comfortable embrace of Howie's arms and sat down on the carpet in the middle of them.

Without hesitation or waiting to be asked, Howie volunteered to introduce them one by one with an excitement that left the other three speechless.

Aike kept staring at him, he was disgusted. What an idiot! To think that Howie was really repulsed by the idea of introducing them to him, and here he was doing it wholeheartedly for Ayke without anyone asking him to.

"Oh!" said Ayke suddenly, remaining on the floor with the dogs, his plate between his bent feet. "Before I forget, I had a wonderful dream... I dreamt I had my first kiss. It was exciting, I can't wait to make this dream come true."

He announced happily, waiting for comments while he stroked Ravi and Pin, who had taken refuge in his arms while he ate.

Aike gasped, but quickly composed himself before embarrassing himself for the umpteenth time in front of Howie and his father. If only he could keep his brother quiet!

When nobody deigned to break the silence, Ayke raised questioning eyes in their direction. Four pairs of eyes with forks dangling stared at him. Aike, for his part, was petrified.

Only Howie noticed how terrible he looked and the horror that flashed in his eyes, while the others focused their attention only on Ayke's pretty face, who was waiting for their opinion or something.

"What? But it's true, I assure you, it was too good. I hope it gets even better. There was a kind of restraint in the one in my dream, so I don't want to hold back when I do it for real".

As he recounted the kiss without hesitation or shyness, his brother felt his stomach contract under the weight of new frustration.

Aike wanted to quiet his brother, but he could not move. He had even forgotten that he could talk to him without anyone noticing. He remained slumped on the stool, then closed his eyes as his hands became sweaty. He prayed that Ayke would let the subject drop, but he wouldn't.

Marc decided to speak up and put an end to his current torment in order to move on to a new one. "So you haven't kissed any girls yet?" Ayke nodded innocently as Pin licked his chin.

"And you," Marc said, addressing Aike directly. He smiled stupidly and shrugged, "And you, Howie?"

The latter adopted a detached air, with one eyebrow raised nonchalantly as he stared at Aike in front of an audience waiting with bated breath for his answer. "You know better than me, Father, that these things hold no secrets for me. This isn't my debut."

Words with a hidden meaning that Aike understands all too well. These words weren't really addressed to Marc, but to him. What impertinence!

Then Howie smiled, revealing all his beautiful, well-arranged teeth, dazzlingly white and obviously healthy. Someone here had proof, by the way.

Aike glared at him, "What a show-off!" he muttered through clenched teeth.

"I'm not at my debut, but who asked him if it was his debut?" he continued to grumble, clutching the fork in his hand, which would have screamed if it could: "Mercy!"

He turned his attention back to his juicy plate, looking for his anchor to hold onto and change the damned first kiss topic his brother had introduced into their peaceful breakfast.

"You're a good cook, Marc," he said, ignoring his brother's and Howie's persistent mocking looks.

"My parents don't cook and have even less time to discuss such matters with us. I hope that when my brother and I have to make our debut..." he emphasised the word debut as if he held a grudge. "You can help us understand and give us some good advice. How would you like to be our sex guru?" Marc laughed and so did Alfred, laughing softly as he listened to Aike's innocent request. A sex guru, but really?

"Ah, no, you're not serious, my boy?" replied Marc. "I'm an old man myself. I think Alfred and Howie would be better suited for the role of guru, but I'd be happy to have a chat with you. Whatever the subject, feel free to talk to me about it."

"Thank you," Aike said happily as he touched Marc's arm.

And it was Howie who glared at him this time. "What a liar!" he snarled venomously.