My Bullies - Chapter Fourty

Ethan drifted in and out of light sleep, nestled between Caleb and Diego. The three of them had woken earlier—soft kisses, gentle touches, whispered reassurances—but none of them had wanted to leave the bed yet. They’d simply pulled the covers higher and dozed again, limbs tangled, bodies pressed close. Ethan in the middle, Caleb’s arm draped possessively over his waist from behind, Diego’s hand resting flat on Ethan’s chest from the front. The collar around Ethan’s neck felt warm and comforting now, a quiet anchor.

Eventually Caleb stirred. He kissed the back of Ethan’s neck, then slipped out from under the covers. Naked, skin still warm from sleep, he moved quietly to the door.

Diego woke seconds later. He didn’t speak—just pressed a slow kiss to Ethan’s temple before following Caleb downstairs.

Ethan stayed in bed a little longer, blinking at the ceiling, body still tender but no longer aching. The sheets smelled like them—sweat, sex, safety.

A few minutes later the door opened again.

Caleb returned carrying a large tray, Diego right behind with a second smaller one. Pancakes stacked high, crispy bacon, fresh fruit, orange juice, coffee. Caleb had cooked; Diego had carried.

They set the trays on the bed and climbed back in on either side of Ethan, pulling him upright so he sat naked between them, back against the headboard.

They fed him.

Caleb tore off a piece of pancake, dipped it in syrup, and held it to Ethan’s lips. “Open.”

Ethan did. The sweetness melted on his tongue; Caleb’s thumb brushed his lower lip as he fed the bite.

Diego followed—bacon crisp and salty, held between his fingers. Ethan took it gently, lips closing around Diego’s fingertips. Diego’s dark eyes never left his face.

They alternated like that—slow, intimate, no rush. Caleb’s hand rested on Ethan’s thigh, thumb tracing lazy circles. Diego’s arm draped over Ethan’s shoulders, keeping him close.

When the plates were half-empty, Caleb’s voice turned serious.

“We’re ending this,” he said quietly. “No more public exposure without our permission. The burner account gets deleted today. All copies wiped.”

Ethan nodded, throat tight.

Caleb set his plate aside and pulled Ethan closer, voice dropping to a low murmur.

“Here’s the plan. You lure them. One by one. Text each of the eight guys a different time—tell them you need to talk privately in the locker room after school. Make it sound urgent, personal. They’ll come. They always do.”

Diego’s hand tightened slightly on Ethan’s shoulder—silent agreement.

Caleb continued. “We’ll be waiting. Restraints ready—same ropes they used on me. One at a time, we grab them, tie them down. No escape. No phones. No witnesses.”

Ethan’s breath caught. “And then?”

Caleb’s eyes darkened. “Then we put the final plan in motion.”

He didn’t say what it was—not yet. The words hung heavy, unfinished.

Ethan looked between them—Caleb’s steady gaze, Diego’s silent intensity.

He nodded once.

“Okay.”

Caleb kissed him—slow, deep, claiming—then passed him to Diego. Diego’s kiss was quieter but no less possessive, lips firm, hand cupping Ethan’s jaw.

They stayed like that for a long moment—three bodies pressed close, naked and safe.

The plan was set.

The eight would come.

And when they did…