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There is just something about Gallagher that makes Caelus stand straighter, makes him fix his hair before he takes a seat at the bar and attempts to order something adult sounding to impress the older man. Maybe it’s the way his forearms flex under the low bar lights. Or the smirk that would spread across his grizzled face at something Caelus said.
Okay, maybe Caelus really wanted to be roughed up and tossed around. Sue him. He was a sucker for thick arms and an unshaven face…though he is pretty sure this is the only person he has ever been attracted to that looks like that.
Semantics, he thinks as he tears apart his closet. Tomato, potato, or however that saying went. Right now he can’t care about his short life and lack of previous crushes (though Jing Yuan…hm, okay, he was a contender for being a previous crush), because for the life of him he can’t find a decent enough outfit. And it wasn’t like he was vain – most of the time he always seemed to have bits and pieces of trash stuck in his hair, but it wasn’t his fault that trash cans were magnetically attracted to him! He wasn’t ashamed of his bad habit!
But the sensible side of him, no matter how small, recoiled at the thought of Gallagher possibly seeing him that way.
T-shirt, t-shirt, t-shirt. Was all he had the same white t-shirt with wrinkled collar that had been washed too many times? Where was the variety in his life?
With a groan, Caelus tossed the millionth white t-shirt to the floor and pondered his options. Which, sadly, was not much. It mostly pointed to the fact that he was not a fashionista, not by any means, though he did think he rocked the loose white shirt look pretty well. However, white t-shirts did not equal instant seduction or getting laid…unless they were see-through.
Maybe he could spill some water on his chest in the presence of the older looking man. Transparent t-shirts always seemed to work in movies.
Or, that traitorous little voice in his head whispered, you could ask for help.
Help, he finds in the over enthusiastic hands of March, and the less enthusiastic but no less helpful hands of Dan Heng.
“How about the shirtless blazer look?” March questions as she smooths a black blazer over the messy bed.
Dan Heng shakes his head, dropping a pair of obscenely tight jeans on top of the blazer. “He’s not a gigolo.”
March levels him with a look that could freeze water. “Oh? I seem to recall the way you and a certain general kiss and made up. It involved bare chests and edible—”
A hand smacks over her mouth, a furiously blushing Dan Heng casting Caelus an inconspicuous look that spoke volumes.
“Caelus will be in a public setting,” the young man said with intent. “He needs to be clothed accordingly.”
“But he can still be sexy!”
“That doesn’t mean naked.”
The two bicker back and forth, clothes being tossed and thinly veiled insults flying over Caelus' head, and he wonders if this was more of a headache to include them. Maybe Welt and his grandpa sock garters would’ve been a better bet after all.
Eventually, they settle on the super tight jeans and a shirt and jacket combo he borrows from Dan Heng. March does his hair, rouges his cheeks lightly, and applies a thin layer of gloss to his lips to make them appear pouty.
She has to reapply when he realizes they taste like apple and licks it off.
“Enough of that,” she chastises as she caps the gloss. But her eyes melt as she looks over him, and she sighs happily. “Oh, you look amazing! Dan Heng, our baby is growing up!”
And like the sage father he appears to be, Dan Heng crosses his arms and nods in agreement.
“Remember,” March says as they wave him off, “don’t do anything you’re not comfortable with! Use your bat if you have to!”
“Be safe,” is the simple words Dan Heng gives him, but Caelus can read between the lines and see the concern there.
The route to the bar is well-traveled at this point, and he makes his way easily to the building. The lights are set low, the music a smooth jazz, and very few people linger inside. Just the way Caelus likes it. And it also leaves few people to spy on him as he clumsily tries to flirt with the bartender.
He slides into a seat, tight pants stretching lewdly over his ass. Caelus waits, anticipation churning in his stomach as he tries to stealthily look around the bar. Tries, because he is sure he is giving stink eye instead. But points for trying! He wasn’t built for being stealthy. At least he could fall back on being pretty.
Fate is kind to him that day, as Gallagher appears only a moment later, not too surprised to see him.
“Welcome back. You’re becoming a regular here it seems.”
It’s hard not to preen, and Caelus does so while also trying to pop his chest out a bit more so that the undone buttons of the shirt frame his collarbones. The bit of sparkle March had put there seems to draw Gallagher’s eye (like moths to a flame, March had declared) but he only asks, “What are you in the mood for today?” instead of the proposal Caelus was hoping for.
You. “Surprise me,” is what Caelus says instead of his intrusive thoughts that are slowly devolving into begging. “I’m sure you’ll make something delicious for me.”
“High expectations, that makes me nervous.” A husky chuckle, and Gallagher starts to move and gather his ingredients. “But I never back down from a challenge.”
There is a lot of complicated measuring and stirring and shaking hand movements that Caelus can’t really follow, but he doesn’t really care about the drink mixing when his eyes are busy looking at the triangle of bare chest that peeks out from the unbuttoned shirt. It’s distracting, and Caelus blinks when a drink slides in front of him.
“Here, made you the perfect drink.”
Caelus brightens, already opening his mouth to thank the man and his collarbones, when he looks down at the drink…and stops. Tilts his head. What sits in front of him is some abomination of a parfait, with enough whipped cream that it wobbles precariously as it slides to a stop in front of him. The rainbow liquid underneath sits in perfect pastel stripes, bubbles floating merrily to the top.
It looks like he ordered it off the kid’s menu.
“What’s this?” he questions.
“A Youth’s Folly. Fits you, don’t you think?”
“Uh, how so?”
Gallagher shrugs, picking up a glass to run his rag around the edge. “Cute. Sweet. Youthful. Or maybe childish is the better word.”
The words should inspire happiness, but only dread fills him as he laughs awkwardly. “Oh, um, thanks?”
Cute. Sweet. Those were words that Caelus associated more with March 7th. He couldn’t really see them directed at himself. But childish? Ouch. Still, he technically asked for it when he said to surprise him, and he wraps his lips around the straw to take a tentative sip. It’s sweet, overly so, sparking over his tongue and making his teeth hurt as he backs away, coughing lightly.
Gallagher watches him with a small grin, propping a hand on his hip. “Not able to take it?”
Caelus shakes his head, still coughing as he chokes out, “I was just unprepared! It’s fine!”
The grin turns sharper, and when Gallagher leans on the countertop the look in his eyes speaks of dark amusement. “Then I hope you enjoy it to its fullest.”
This close, the exposed chest from the undone buttons is right in his view point, and Caelus has trouble looking the older man in the eye. In fact, he never wants to look away from the boob window that practically winks at him. Was this how Gallagher made tips? Because Caelus was ready to toss down his wallet and beg for mercy.
As Caelus opened his mouth to, in fact, beg or vomit or plead for mercy, a soft tone cut him off.
“Oh, good evening, Trailblazer. Having a drink?”
Sunday, Caelus sees when he can pry his eyeballs from the sliver of chest, who smiles gently down at him. To Gallagher, the tone hardens. “May I have a word, Gallagher? I have some questions regarding security that you are the only one fit to answer.”
Gallagher hums, tossing his towel to the side as he rounds the bar. Caelus looks at his ass and tries to remember not to drool. “Sure, let’s go to my office. Enjoy your drink, Caelus. It’s best when fresh.”
Caelus watches them leave, envious of the hand Gallagher puts on Sunday’s lower back to guide him. But with them gone, it leaves him alone with his towering mass of sugar to contend with, that he stares at suspiciously.
It stares back.
It fucking dares him. In some squeaky, high-pitched voice it dares him to try to finish him before Gallagher comes back. And Caelus is not one to back down from a fight, and he sits posed with his spoon at the ready as he stares it down. The first jab is deep, the spoon coming way with a pile of whip cream that somehow makes it into his mouth without falling over.
“My, my, my! What a surprise to see you here, friend~!”
Of course, that is the moment where things start to fall apart.
Caelus chokes on the spoonful of pure whipped cream in his mouth. Through the tears in his eyes, he sees Aventurine slide as slick as oil into the seat next to him, dressed to the nines with his hat and sunglasses. Which, rude, even Caelus knew that you weren’t supposed to wear those inside. He’s not his keeper though, so Caelus doesn’t say anything as he wipes his mouth with the tiny cocktail napkin.
“Aventurine,” he says, turning to look at the man. A solid thump on his opposite side stops him from continuing his sentence, and he whirls around to see Dr. Ratio. “Are you two here together?”
Aventurine says, “Yes,” at the same time Ratio says, “No.”
Both men look at each other over his head. Caelus can see the silent conversation they have, and though silent, that doesn’t stop the irritated tick of Ratio's eyes brows at the petulant moue of Aventurine's mouth that should resemble a pout, but the smugness refuses to make it one.
Caelus ducks down, not wanting to be caught in the middle.
“Oh, friend,” Aventurine purrs out, eyes not straying from the frowning scholar, and it takes Caelus a moment to realize he is speaking to him. “The dear doctor here is such a laugh, isn’t he? A practical jokester.”
Caelus nods his head even though internally he’s shaking it. Dr. Ratio, a jokester? Did Ratio even know what a joke was?
“What my esteemed coworker is trying to say is,” and here Ratio’s face does something funny as he grits out, “I made a funny.”
The sound Aventurine lets out a sound suspiciously like a badly covered snort. Caelus is torn between looking at the two men who sit on either side of him, and ponders his options of escape. But Gallagher, his mind whispers, the sad, desperate little fanboy that it is. You dressed up so nicely for him. It would be a shame to waste it by running.
So Caelus smiles (or grimaces, he can’t tell without a mirror) and lets out a fake, “Ha ha ha. Good one.”
His shoulders came up in a bout of self-consciousness, and he regrets the unbuttoned option to show off his skin when he sees Ratio’s eyes flicker down towards it. And linger. Maybe even caress it in a slow glide that brings those intense eyes back up to his, and Caelus has to swallow down the shock that sticks in his throat.
“I aim to please,” the stern man responds, and even Caelus, with his trash loving brain, can see there is something between the lines there that he doesn’t think he can touch. “You have none of your crew members here today, I see. What brings you to this bar specifically?”
“Can’t be the atmosphere,” the blonde haired third wheel interjects, looking around the top of his lowered glasses at the bar. “And the drinks look subpar. Just what,” and here a ringed fingers points to the towering glass of whipped cream that sits in front of Caelus, “is this supposed to be?”
Childish. Cute. Sweet. Caelus flushes once more as he watches Aventurine pick up his abandoned spoon and dip it into the white tower that jiggles threateningly to the side from the simple act. Aventurine takes a bite, and Caelus can see the struggle on his face to not show how disgustingly sweet it really is.
“Hmm, a bit too sweet for you, I think.” Aventurine licks cream from the corner of his mouth, and Caelus feels a little too honed into the action. “You need something with a little bite. That would suit you. Where is the drink maker?”
“Hmm?” Caelus shakes himself from the fog that settles over his brain. “Oh, Gallagher was pulled away by Sunday to discuss something.”
“Oh, then they might be a while.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Intuition.” Neon eyes fall to his collar, and Caelus swears they glow brighter. “Oh, friend, it seems you missed your mouth and made a mess of your fine outfit.”
A gloved hand reaches up, drifting over the skin his low collar shows off, stopping when questing fingers point at the fabric. A spot of white stares back at Caelus when he whips his head down, a beacon against the dark fabric of the top.
“Fuck,” he curses, unaware that the word makes the men who surround him perk up in interest. “I borrowed this.”
“I believe there’s a bathroom over that way.” Aventurine gestures, but his eyes don’t move from his face. “Why don’t you go scrub that before it sets?”
Caelus nods, thinking how odd it would be for whipped cream to stain, but the idea of returning the item ruined makes him not stop to think about it for long. He leaves the two men behind, turning down the hallway Aventurine had pointed out. The same hallway Gallagher and Sunday had walked down. It’s almost eerily silent, the soft jazz music from the jukebox fading into a distant memory the more he walks.
A cut off gasp makes Caelus stop and tilt his head curiously. The hallway is empty, and he even checks the ceiling just in case. He had walked on plenty before, so why not others? But he finds it just as empty as the hallway. Only a cracked open door is to see, light spilling from the opening that beckons him.
It's only when he hears the noise again that he presses his face to the crack and peers in.
Oh.
A storeroom, he sees, but it's not the rows of brightly colored bottles and myriad of syrups that make the breath in his chest catch painfully. It’s the two men who are currently engaged in furious engagement.
Gallagher has Sunday pressed hard against the wall, one of the slimmer man's hands held captive against his back as Gallagher ruts hard and rough against his ass. Even pressed so close together, Caelus can see the thick erection that distorts the clean lines of Gallagher's trousers, see how it forces itself against the seat of Sunday's pants to press the light-colored fabric deep into the crevice of his ass.
“Shouldn’t you be serving the Nameless as he makes eyes at you?” Sunday bites out, casting a dark look over his shoulder that is softened by the moan he fails to hide.
Gallagher just chuckles deeply in response. “Didn’t peg you for the jealous sort, angel. Don’t worry, I’m all yours.”
A bite is pressed against a pale neck, and Sunday thrashes and keens. With Gallagher’s free hand, he none too gently pushes down Sunday's pants, and Caelus pulls away as the slick sounds of preparation and penetration fill the small space.
Shame and embarrassment burn hotly in his stomach, and he doesn’t even comment on the tears that prickle at his eyes.
He needs to leave.
As he stumbles away, he feels much like the child Gallagher had declared to him earlier, and now sees the drink as the rejection it was. Sweet, cute, but childish. Not seen as a viable partner for the older man. Just a fool who had sat there with stars in his eyes with his chest exposed, waiting to be noticed.
Thankfully, Ratio and Aventurine are on the opposite end of the door he stumbles out of, hidden from sight as he exits the bar. He wasn’t in the mood for looks or questions or sympathy. He just wanted to leave. And he does, easily slipping into the street and blending in with all of the other enthusiastic tourists.
He walks and walks until the burden of distance lessens the shame, but even so far away there is still a coil of furious embarrassment that lingers in his stomach. He needs the comfort of the Express, the gentle comfort of his found family – but the idea of them seeing him this way, eyes full of sympathy, make him want to vomit, and like a wounded animal he veers away from the road that would lead him back.
He is aimless as he wanders, unable to find a place to hide away until he feels more like himself. And dressed as he is, with the daring plunge of his shirt and the tight jeans that encase his thighs, he is never alone as he feels the appraising eyes of strangers follow him. They watch as he moves without a destination in mind, peeling back his layers to see the young man in need of comfort, and like blood in the water they move in to surround their prey.
Caelus can see them come, intent clear as their eyes rake over him, drink him in. Strangers who lick their sharp teeth as they try to decide which part of him to tear into first. Sharks who swim closer, ready to take a bite as they open their mouths—
“There you are, doll.”
The sharks scatter at the sight of a larger predator, burning eyes that scare them away.
Caelus didn’t even have time to discern the voice – the smell of Aventurine was enough to give him away as his warm body slides up against his side. Of warm metal and desert roses, an undertone of a cologne that was musky and dark. It was comforting, in the way all familiar things were, but Caelus could only stare with dread up at the grinning face and electric eyes.
“You abandoned your drink. I had to pay for it.”
“We paid for it,” comes the correction, voice dripping with distain as another body presses against his unguarded side. “Or do you not recall?”
Aventurine makes a show of thinking. “I don’t really have the time to remember non-important events.” The eyes slide back to him, playful bleeding into serious now. “Why did you leave?” And because his body is a treacherous thing, it allows wetness to well up in his eyes, which Aventurine is quick to catch with his fingers as he wipe at his cheek. “Oh, baby, what happened?”
Caelus is quick to mumble, “Nothing,” as he tries to turn away, but there’s just another body blocking his path. Ratio doesn’t touch him, but his eyes have a more solid hold on him as they stare down at his wet face.
“Is there something we could help you with to forget your sorrow, then?” the scholar quietly asks, but the growling echo that drops deeply in the tone makes it sounds more like a demand.
And Caelus is weak to it. “I—”
Not to be forgotten, Aventurine purrs in his ear, “C'mon, sweetheart, let's hit the town. Let us turn that frown upside down.”
The offer sounds tempting. Handed to him on a silver platter served by a wicked smile, Caelus wants nothing more than to be reckless and to drown his sorrows…but there’s a tiny voice in the back of his head that whispers run.
He takes a step back. He breathes in the cool, sweet air, looking up at the two men who stare him down.
“Thanks,” he starts, holding up a hand when he sees something victorious and dark shine in the eyes of the other men, “but I’m going to have to pass for now. Maybe later?”
He expects his words to be brushed aside, for one of them to ignore his wishes and keep pushing. He is gently surprised as Aventurine pulls back, disappointed, but nodding his head. Ratio merely crosses his arms.
“Sure, doll. We’ll take a raincheck. You have our numbers, let us know when you wanna paint the town red.”
There's a gentle touch to his cheek, and both men are gone. Left alone, but why can he still feel his skin burn from where they touched? It sends him running back to the Express, uncaring of his previous thoughts about shame and embarrassment.
But he forgets the two he enlisted help from, who stand waiting with arms crossed as he stumbles his way onboard. One look at him is enough for March and Dan Heng to take both of his arms and drag him into the interrogation room – which in all honesty was March's room, but she turns the lights off except for one overhead that beams down on him from where they plop him into a chair, and Caelus can appreciate the attention to keeping up the mood.
“Spill,” the bad cop starts, her bright eyes narrowed.
Enter good cop stage right, who turns the lights back on and turns serious eyes to Caelus, ignoring the indignant squawk from March as the immersion is ruined. “We tried contacting you, but you weren’t returning our texts or calls. We were worried about you.”
“Yeah! I was about to go down to that bar to check on you!”
Oh, shit. “Sorry, I turned it off before I got there…I didn’t mean to worry you. I guess I forget since I left in a hurry.”
The bad cop melts away, resting a gentle hand on his shoulder as she takes a seat next to him. “Oh no, did something happen?”
“Well, it started off fine. He made me a drink though, and his lack of interest in me was kinda the point of the drink because he called it something a child might like.”
“I’m gonna beat him up,” March declares, standing up heatedly.
It’s only the strong hand of Dan Heng that stops her as he jerks her back, not watching as she yelps and tumbled back into her seat with a solid thump. “Violence will get you nowhere. Blackmail, on the other hand…”
The two nod their heads, standing up to exact their vengeance, which Caelus puts a stop to as he grabs their legs.
“Can’t we just have a normal night of movies and popcorn and ice cream to help me forget?” he wails. “Why does it have to resort to bad things?”
Somehow, through the power of his puppy eyes, he gets them to begrudgingly put away their weapons and sit back down beside him, offering him the comfort he so desperately craves.
“I just wanna pretend it never happened,” he responds, tucking his head under Dan Heng's chin while March strokes a comforting hand down his back. “I feel so dumb.”
“We all get caught up in strong arms and deep gazes. It happens to the best of us,” March comforts knowingly, shooting Dan Heng a smirk. “Just ask our buddy here.”
“Or,” Dan Heng returns scathingly, “we could focus on Caelus right now like the good friends we are.”
March mutters something that sounds suspiciously like deflection before she turns her attention back to him.
“Well, how about we go out and forget about men with strong arms and deep gazes? I heard about this club I wanted to try out!” March claps her hands, pastel eyes lighting up. “What better what to forget about stupid men than bad decisions made with alcohol?”
Which is how Caelus ends up in a club, March somewhere taking body shots and Dan Heng probably in the bathroom sending increasingly naughty photos of his drunk-flushed face to a certain Xianzhou general…and Stellaron hunter, let’s be real. Caelus fights not to be jealous that his best friend has two paramours and lets himself fall into the toxic pit that writhed and grinded that was called the dance floor.
It's easy to get lost in the beat of the music. Despite never having been in club atmosphere before, it feels like slipping on a second skin as he moves his body. He takes no notice of the hungry eyes and greedy hands that surround him, lost on his own world of grief and acceptance.
And maybe that was the problem, because he doesn’t notice the two starving beasts that stare at him from the darkened shadows of the club. Caelus is in his own world, determined to forget his heartbreak.
But the beasts are so very hungry, and every naïve swing of his hips brings them closer and closer to snapping. Caelus can’t see this, however, lost in a world of his own making as he closes his eyes and drinks in the crowd’s appreciative closeness. Even as strangers, he doesn’t feel alone when there are bodies pressed against every side of him.
“Oh, friend.”
Caelus peels his eyes open and turns.
A few steps away, Aventurine parts the crowd with his presence alone. And in the dimness of the club, his eyes glow brighter than the electric lights.
This is not the Aventurine he is used to. This one prowls, hips a weapon as they press tight to his, rolling his body into a rhythm established by the light haired man. It speaks of hot nights and wet gasps, of soiled thighs and sore muscles. They press hot and heavy into him, forcing him into the tempo the Avgin dictates with his body.
It feels right to loop his arms around Aventurine's neck. It brings them closer together, and the hypnotizing eyes of the other man pull him in deeper, drag him down farther into the easy trance that his body seems to crave. The world narrows to just the two of them.
Hands settle possessively around his waist, dragging him impossibly closer to the grinding motions Aventurine does with his hips. Caelus can taste the breath of the other man, and instinctively he tilts his head up to take more of the sweet-smelling air into his lungs.
Aventurine meets him halfway.
There’s a gasp in his throat that is swallowed by the other man's mouth. The beautiful taste of disaster coats his tongue and makes his teeth ache as he drinks more and more of the flavor from Aventurine's mouth. It’s addictive and destructive, and Caelus feels drunk as he sways to the beat.
“Look at you, doll,” is the voice that whispers to him through the haze of liquid pleasure that runs sluggish through his veins. “Just need someone to lead you, take care of you.” Another press of lips against his, then down his neck as they growl out, “Let me in, Caelus.”
The sudden use of his name wakes him up. He blinks slowly, clearing the smoke from his vision. Around him people are looking, the heavy touch of their gaze feeling like hands down his spine. It’s wanting and lustful, and it shakes him from his daze.
A sharp nip to his neck makes him yelp, and he pulls away to see electric eyes peering at him from under heavy lids. The smirk that follows is more akin to a wound as it bleeds desire.
“You look thirsty, friend. Why don’t you go get yourself a drink to calm down?”
The quick change back to friend throws him, but he nods along as he pulls away from the warm body. He expects some resistance, even if it had been dictated by Aventurine to depart, but the hands on his hips fall away easily. With one last look to the mysterious blonde, Caelus heads off towards the bar.
People are watching him, and the space he leaves behind converges over Aventurine as desperate hands reach out to grab the fine fabric of the gambler. They try to touch him, but those hands are easy to evade and detach with a shrug. There is no draw to the strangers who surround him. It makes Caelus easy prey when their attentions turn to him. Hands reach out, voices whisper promises of a good time, and he tries to deflect them as easily as Aventurine has, but he isn’t as practiced as the other man. Some attempt to grab harder, to keep him near, but a voice that brokers no argument makes them recede.
“Remove your hands,” Ratio intones, and somehow his voice is heard over the music that pumps through the club. He towers over them all, eyes disapproving as he winds a guiding arm around Caelus' waist and reels him out of the crowd.
No one attempts to fight against the order.
And so Caelus is brought to the bar, mind fuzzy as he glances up at the austere scholar who returns to his drink, arm still around his waist. It’s almost hypnotizing to watch the gentle bob of his throat as he sips the lurid colored drink that looks out of place in his strong hand.
And maybe his stare is too intense, because Ratio looks down at him in contemplation and asks, “Do you wish for a drink to soothe your throat?”
Caelus blinks, the illusion fading. “Huh? Oh, sure—”
Caelus has only a moment of carmine eyes before lips close over his. He opens his mouth in surprise, and startles at the cool sweetness that pours into his mouth with just a sharp hint of something citrus. He unconsciously clings to the scholars robes as he closes his eyes, knees going weak as a hot tongue that tastes sharply of lemon follows after the liquid.
It licks into his mouth, pressing against his, trying to coax it into a similar dance.
The arm around his waist tightens, and it’s then that Caelus notices that he leans the majority of his weight against the other man, and without the support he would be a puddle on the floor at his feet. And, oh, he shivers at the imagery, at him on his knees as he looks up at the beautiful man who would stare down at him impassively.
Ratio pulls away, pupils slit in a way that makes Caelus thinks of snakes in tall grasses, and the shiny lips of the doctor move to say, “Another?”
He has no voice, no coherent thought in his head, so Caelus can only nod as he opens his mouth to accept another rush of sharp sweetness. A knee situates itself between his shaking thighs, propping him up further with support as he fully melts against the scholar’s body. There is no alcohol in the drink that is fed to him, but he feels almost drunk as he suckles the tongue that invades his mouth.
“Well look at this pretty picture,” a whiskey smooth voice purrs in his ear as heat presses along Caelus' back. “Having a good time, friend?”
Ratio disengages from him, the pop as they part lewd and wet and loud, and levels a dark look over Caelus’ shoulder towards the man who grins back at him. “It was a better time without you here. You may take your leave.”
“Oh, doctor, you wound me.” A hand reaches over Caelus’ shoulder, leather fingers gripping into midnight hair and holding hard. “You should be nicer to me.”
Caelus watches with wide eyes as the two meet in a messy locking of lips above his head. If violence had a face, it would be what he was watching now, at how teeth bite at lips and tongues fight for dominance. Feral animals would be kinder in fighting over territory.
The sound they make when they separate sends a bolt of heat down Caelus' spine and straight to his groin (because that’s how anatomy works obviously). It leaves both of their lips bruised and wet, and in sync they turn their wild eyes to him.
He gulps.
Aventurine’s eyes glow in the dimness of the club as he licks his lips. It makes Caelus feel smaller, and like a small animal cornered by a bigger predator he pushes further against Ratio to hopefully hide from the penetrating gaze. At most it just gets him more close and personal with Ratio’s chest, which is tempting him with the window in the front that highlights his pecs. It should in no way make Caelus’ mouth fill with drool.
He peeks up, and shudders at the way the narrowed eyes of the scholar look down at him, somehow more lethal than Aventurine. Like he could just unhinge his mouth and swallow him whole.
“I—” he starts, but the rest of his sentence is lost when Ratio strikes. And by strike, it’s his lips that do the hitting. And instead of hitting, it’s more of wet smacks that fill the area with vulgar sounds as Aventurine presses even closer against his back to lick up his neck. They take turns passing him around, Ratio’s mouth on his collarbone while Aventurine does something with his tongue that has Caelus’ eyes rolling into the back of his head.
He is unsurprised to find the inside devoid of anything intelligent. Which makes what he is doing all the stupider.
“What was that?” he says the moment his lips are released, mouth pleasantly swollen. It tingles when he presses his lips together to get some feeling back into them.
“An accident, nothing more,” the dark-haired man explains, and somehow, despite the loss of breath in his voice, he still sounds annoyingly in control.
Behind him, Aventurine hums. “Such a clumsy doctor we have on our hands.”
Hands drift over the contours of his body, unknown of which pair belongs to which man. It makes Caelus shiver in overheated drunkenness, even though he had yet to drink a single drop of alcohol. And even then the taste had been strong, made more potent the further it had been shoved into his mouth by a dominating tongue. They don’t mean to do this, he reasons as a hand drifts under his shirt, trailing up until it barely grazes a nipple. Just an accident, he thinks with some hysteria as another hand reaches around to cup his ass.
Caelus does not let out a moan, and he will deny it until his dying day. The two men, however, zero in on his mouth at the definitely-not-a-moan-sound. If anything, their eyes narrow with determined focus, leaning closer to hear his panted breaths as he tries to regain control of the situation.
So he does the only thing that comes to mind.
“I have to pee,” he announces abruptly.
It isn’t the most graceful escape, but it’s the only one he can think of as he shrugs them off and stumbles his way into the crowd. He can barely manage to write a text to his two friends, and he hopes they can understand the leving nw c u @ choo choo he forwards them. He has no time to stop and write properly – that’s for people who didn’t mind when a predator was breathing down their neck, ready to snap sharp fangs into delicate flesh.
It’s later, when March shoves her phone in his face back in the comfort of his room, that he relays why he sent the message. About the two men, how they danced and drank and did some mouth to mouth—
The looks he receives from March and Dan Heng are a mix of sympathetic and downright horrified.
“You kissed?” March doesn’t quite shrill out, but it’s a close thing.
“No! It was an accident!”
“He fed you a drink directly into your mouth with his,” Dan Heng grits out, hand going to his forehead. “How, exactly, does that constitute an accident?”
“…because he said it was?”
Caelus doesn’t understand why both March and Dan Heng drop their heads down into their hands and let out simultaneous groans.
“Caelus, you’re my Astral Express family, so please let me tell you that I love you, but you’re dumb,” March says, voice muffled by her hands. “They want you!”
“But—”
“Like how Gallagher had Sunday! They want you that way!”
There’s a small bit of hurt at the name of his previous infatuation, but when the words register, he flushes.
“I doubt it, March.”
“Caelus,” and here she puts her hand on his shoulder, eyes serious as she says, “stop being stupid and open your eyes.”
Another hand lands on his opposite shoulder, and this time Dan Heng nods. “That was no accident. They’re playing with you, trying to see how you react to them. You haven’t exactly given them a reason to back off, have you?”
“Well, I—”
March cuts him off. “Do you want them?”
Caelus clicks his mouth closed.
“How about this? Have you thought about Gallagher at all since the two started to show their interest in you?” Dan Heng questions.
“No…”
“And is what they do to you…pleasing?”
Caelus thinks of hot mouth and dilated eyes, the pulse of the club vibrating loudly in his chest as bodies press against his and take take take.
Oh.
Oh no.
Or oh yes, he can’t quite decide which expression to use. But it must show on his face, because his two friends give each other knowing looks as they stand.
“Looks like you’ve found your answer,” is what he receives. And he also receives a not so discreetly labeled box from a lightly blushing Dan Heng that smells of strawberries but tastes horrible when he opens it to see the viscous fluid inside. Okay, maybe he really shouldn’t try to eat things just because they smelled good. Because humans also smelled good, like Aventurine and Ratio—
Oh no.
Or yes.
Oh yes. That brings him back to his initial thought.
Caelus is overwhelmed.
Everything he thought he knew or what he thought he wanted sits smoldering in a trash fire of his own making. The idea that the two other men wanted him…well, it makes his stomach curl in on itself. He doesn’t know if that’s a good feeling or a bad one.
With Gallagher, Caelus assumed he knew what he wanted. Sweaty coitus, big hands on his ass, loving kisses…he feels embarrassed just thinking about it again, the edge of shame right there with it. But switching the man in his fantasies to another, then doubling it, the want in his heart swells.
Was it possible? For two such mature, brilliant men to want him?
Caelus is about to put all his chips on the table as he pulls out his phone. The bet is placed as he texts can we meet up?
The answer comes not even a minute later. Of course, doll.
When are you available?
Sweat beading at his temples and the back of his neck, Caelus sets a date and time. The two men are accommodating, Aventurine deciding the place and promising to pay for everything while Ratio reminds him to reach out an anytime in case something happens.
Finally, they send a picture.
It’s from Aventurine's phone, and Caelus flushes as he opens the attachment. Naked chest pressed to naked chest, with the phone held up above them, Aventurine grins in delight as he bites at the apple of Ratio's throat, which is already lined with similar bite marks and love marks. A large palm grips tight to the hair that tickle the back of Aventurine's neck, and the carmine eyes that stare up at the lens make Caelus clench his thighs tightly together as he closes the screen…after he saves it, if course. For scientific reasons.
The picture stays in the back of his mind until the meeting time (had also stayed with him through two cold showers and a tumble through his bed), so he is promptly buzzing as the guard at the front door of the ritzy restaurant allows him inside. Every little sound makes him jump, waiting for a hand to glide over his waist or a rumbled greeting in his ear, and as the seating host brings him further into the darkly lit cavern, he shudders as he sees two intense pairs of eyes look over at him from where they are seated.
“Good evening, doll,” the fairer of the two greets, both of then rising to pull out his chair. Caelus doesn’t sit so much as sink into the seat, tempted to pull his shirt over his face so he doesn’t see the twin looks of hunger directed at him. “Glad you could join us.”
“Thanks for coming despite the short notice,” Caelus replies, trying to unturtle his neck so that his chin isn’t touching his collarbones. “I know you two are busy—”
“Assuage your fears, Caelus. We have nothing pressing at this moment except to spend time with you as you wished it.” Ratio touches a lock of his hair, smoothing it behind his ear. “Are you in higher spirits than the other day?”
The embarrassment of that time makes him want to sink under the table, but that would just bring his face closer to the spread legs of the two men, so Caelus just nods as he gratefully takes the water that is waiting for him and takes a sip. Or gulp. The glass must be oddly tiny, because when he pulls the glass away from his lips it’s halfway gone.
The hand on his thigh, however, when it squeezes into his muscle, makes him want to drain the glass and ask for more. More water or more touches, he can't decide yet.
“So, friend,” and here the hand on his thigh slides up dangerously close to his groin, “what’s the reason for our gathering today. Not that I question why would wanted to see us, but I want to hear from your lips the reason.”
There are words in his throat, heavy on his tongue, and Caelus manages to gurgle out a, “Well I akfbdiaksnfb,” when a large hand places itself over his lower back. The palm bleeds warmth as it slides under his shirt, the direct skin to skin contact making him clench his thighs tightly together…which traps Aventurine's hand.
Caelus knows he’s walked into a trap. With the men pressing closer, the chest window of Ratio gaping open to show off the day old love bites that litter his pecs, and Aventurine whispering sweet nothings in his ear…well, Caelus does the only thing he can.
“I gotta pee,” he mumbles out, mortification making him stumble to his feet.
Smooth, he thinks as he books it to the bathroom. Real smooth. They would never know—
Except the beasts are tired of waiting, and as the door to the single bathroom closes, his fingers reaching up to click the lock closed, a gloved hand slams into the door and stops its progress. Caelus stares at the rings with growing dread, which morphs into something he can’t name as the door opens fully, allowing the men to prowl inside and crowd him against the wall. After locking the door, of course.
“Thought you could use some help,” the neon bright eyes lean closer, hypnotic as hips press against his, grinding into the erection Caelus is sure wasn’t in his pants before. But to his mortification he’s almost fully hard, and the repeated thrusts don’t help him at all. “You want help, friend?”
Yes. No. Maybe.
Words tumble through his head, a scramble he tries to make sense of as he gathers as many as he can to string together a coherent sentence that makes sense. So he can be forgiven when the least sexy whimper of, “Why me?” escapes his mouth.
The intensity doesn’t lessen, but it does soften. Fingers thread through his hair and hands press against his hips, and he closes his eyes as mouths press against his face. His cheeks, his forehead, his nose – his mouth avoided as affection is peppered on all available skin.
“Who could look at you and ever look away?” Ratio is the first to divulge, mouth pressed to his hair. “The world could be ending, and the final thing my eyes would see would be you.” The mouth slides down, his head tilted by a strong grip as the gentle melts into pure heat as the scholar growls against his mouth, “You deserve to be worshipped, and your body will be my temple to pray at.”
And then the heat turns to passion as Ratio kisses him, sucking down his surprised moan with his skilled tongue that wastes no time dipping into his mouth. If he were to pull away and say it was another accident, Caelus was going to take a bat to his head.
As the voyeur, Aventurine leans in close, licking over his ear as hips once against pick up a gentle thrusting motion, husky voice murmuring, “Take a chance on us, doll. Let us show you how it can be.”
When Ratio moves away, Caelus peels open his heavy eyes at the light touch on his chin that redirects him to electric eyes.
“Open your mouth for us, baby.”
Flushing, Caelus obediently opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue.
“Good boy,” is the purred praise before Aventurine leans over to lick his tongue.
Caelus groans, but as he moves to wrap his arms around broad shoulders, the mouth abruptly moves away. At his confused whine he merely receives a smile that does nothing to stop the flare of want from burning out at the denial.
“Do you want us to take you like how Gallagher took Sunday?”
Caelus thinks back to the bit he had seen, at the tight grip and forceful thrusts. He flushes when he can feel his dick harden, but to the men watching, he shakes his head. “I’ve…never done something like this before. Sex,” he reiterates, flushing as the looks on him sharpen in intensity. “So can you be gentle?”
It's Ratio who steps forward, who runs a hand over his cheek as he says, “As slow as you need us to go. You have my word.” Towards Aventurine, the doctor bites out, “Isn’t that correct?”
Aventurine rolls his eyes. “I’m not a monster, despite what people say about my kind.” To Caelus, the warmth in his eyes holds an edge of something possessive. “Don’t worry, doll, we'll take our time and take you apart nice and slow until you’re begging for us to go faster.”
He makes a scissoring motion with his fingers, delighting in the flush that lights of the young man's ears. “Aeons, look at you. I can’t wait to dress you up in the best just for us. The outfit you had to try to tempt Gallagher was fine and all, but I’m thinking something a little more…sheer.”
“You would look exquisite in my shirt.” Ratio lifts his hand to kiss it, the gentlemanly gesture at odds with the words that burn with desire, reflected back in carmine eyes that look up at him over his knuckles. “What say we take this display out of this washroom and to somewhere more appropriate?”
And, oh, how the mortification sets in when Caelus realizes just where he had been having a makeout session. There was a toilet to his left and a mirror over Aventurine’s shoulder that had the audacity to reflect back his flushed face and mussed hair. He ducks his face down and buries it in the feathered collar in front of him, ignoring the husky chuckles as a hand works its way through his hair comfortingly.
“Don’t worry, baby, we’ll make sure no one else can see you. I don’t want them to anyway. This,” and a hand reaches down to grab his ass, squeezing tight, “is for our eyes only.”
They keep to their word, ushering him out using a back entrance, with Aventurine slipping a staff member credits while Ratio held him tight to his side. The trip is a blur of moving vehicles and dirty whispers, maybe a wandering hand or two that makes his chest burn with want. From the car to the hotel room, and from the hotel room to the bed, Caelus is a wound up, horny little gremlin that can only think in positions and the flavor of kisses as they press to his neck.
He has his shirt off before the door even closes, at the mercy of sharp teeth and sharper words as Ratio presses him down into the bed, mouth attached firmly to his neck. Still standing at the edge of the bed, Aventurine peels the clothes from his body slowly, staring with unnerving focus as the fine fabrics drift to the floor, leaving him only in his briefs that showcase the tent that distorts the fabric around his erection.
The gambler slides up onto the bed, pressing kisses to Ratio’s clothed back. “Why don’t you disrobe and let me take care of our precious, hmm?”
Expecting a fight, Caelus only hears an agreeable hum as Ratio’s mouth disengages from where it was doing delightful things on his nipple, the pop as the suction disappears loud in the otherwise silent room. Aventurine slots into his place, never letting Caelus grow cold as he coos and purrs words of praise as he undoes the buckle and zipper of Caelus’ trousers.
Ratio has more care for his clothes, folding them before depositing them to the side, but Caelus is firmly focused on the man’s…everything really. His broad shoulders, his ample chest, the sharp cut down to a narrow waist that ends in midnight blue briefs that are so tight Caelus can every ripple of muscle and the veins in his cock from where it presses up against the fabric.
“Doctor, you’re huge!” Aventurine laughs out, and Ratio merely sighs as he shakes his head.
Caelus feels like he missed the joke that preceded the punchline, but there’s no time to think of it as the two men turn to face him. When Aventurine smiles, there’s nothing but dark seduction.
“Why don’t you touch him, doll?” Aventurine asks, pressing his mouth to Caelus’ ear. “See if the good doctor is worth it.”
“Or,” and here Aventurine yelps as he is pulled back by his hair, the sound melting into a moan as Ratio tightens his grip, “you can explore this lewd body and see if you find it lacking.”
“Why, Ratio,” Aventurine bites through gritted teeth, but the effect of Ratio tugging on his hair makes his erection all the more prominent in his pants, “you say that as if I’m damaged goods. I’m offended.” To get back at him, Aventurine reaches down to grab the bulge that presses into his backside, giving it a firm squeeze. “Good to know you don’t mind a little roughness.”
Caelus sits back and watches as the two men snipe back and forth. Then he looks at his hands. Touching each of the men on their chests, he comes to find, shuts them right up. And since there is a moment where they are caught off guard, it gives him time to squeeze each pec.
Honk.
That’s all he’s given, though, the previous promise of allowing him to touch their bodies gone in a blaze of fiery passion as they tackle him. The landing is soft, thankfully, but the mouths that drift over his body are harsh with unrestrained desire as they bite and suck and kiss parts of him that tingle in sensitivity. His collarbones and his hips bones; the inside of his thighs and the underside of his knees; a lick to his navel and a bite to his ass through his briefs which leaves him whimpering and shaking as they finally pull away to stare down at the masterpiece they created on his skin.
“Turn over, baby,” Aventurine growls, and Caelus turns on shaking limbs and presents himself with minimal face planting.
Fingers dip under the waistband of his briefs, teasing in their lightness as they are gently pulled down and off his body. It leaves him exposed for the first time in his (admittedly) short life. And as gentle as the fingers had been in pulling his underwear from his body, he can feel the greed in them now as they push at the cheeks of his ass, exposing the space between that clenches in anticipation.
“How cute,” Aventurine purrs, and Caelus rocks forward with a shout as something wet slides over it. A tongue, he thinks with something close to hysteria. And his traitorous dick enjoys the feeling a little too much, leaking down onto the bedding underneath him.
“Please,” Caelus pleads, but the words are dampened by his face that is smushed into the pillow. To get his point across wordless, his shakes his hips.
It works…maybe? Because there is a tongue and a finger that press into him, and Caelus is sure this is exactly what he was asking for, even if he also had no idea what he was asking for. He just wants something, and that something is doing amazing, pleasurable things to his insides that makes him gasp and rock back. But when a second something decides to join, with a broader finger and a hotter tongue, well…Caelus always knew he was a genius, because he asked for this. In a way. Between the whimpers and the pleas, he had articulated that he wanted to be wrecked, six ways from Sund — Monday, he amends, trying not to think of other men at the moment who had unfortunate names that corresponded to days of the week.
And when he feels fit to burst (four fingers, a hand on his dick, a tongue licking up his spine—), he feels them pull away. To his horror, he can hear the beginnings of—
“Are you literally doing rock, paper, scissors over my virginity?” Caelus squeaks out, mortified. He can hear them stop from where he is head down, ass up, and maybe his words have finally gotten through their thick skulls that this was not a competition. Shouldn’t smart men be, I don’t know, smart?
“…he was going to play paper anyway based on the structure on his hand,” the good doctor says, completely unashamed. “So I win by default because I was going to use scissors.”
“What a reach,” Aventurine scoffs, but dutifully moves to where Caelus rests his head. “I was obviously going to use lasers.”
“…there are no lasers in—”
“Maybe not your version.” Electric eyes flicker down to Caelus, softening in sweet affection as he runs a hand through his hair. “But since I’m so nice I’ll let you go first. I can take his mouth. That okay with you, doll?”
And Caelus glances down to where Aventurine’s straining erection tents the fabric of his emerald green briefs, imagine what it would feel like resting on his tongue, dipping into his throat.
He nods, mouth already feeling with saliva that he has to rapidly swallow down so he doesn’t choke.
A delighted grin is his reward. “Good boy.”
Hands grab onto Caelus’ hips, propping them further up, a pillow easing under him. The position is embarrassing, made worse by the fact he is actually comfortable at the care that is being given to him. There is little effort on his part, and he shivers when he thinks that they are adjusting him to their liking with little input from him.
“Caelus.” A warm body lays over his back, a deep hum pressing his ear that makes him whimper and close his eyes as he feels the thick cock of Ratio rut against his ass. “Are you ready?”
Caelus nods, but he yips at the sharp slap to his thigh which is quickly soothed by a large palm.
“I need your verbal consent, Caelus. I shall ask you one more time – are you ready?”
It’s torture to open his mouth and force out the word, but he manages a breathy, “yes,” that seems to appease the larger man, if the gentle nudge of a tip against his entrance is to go by anything. It teases him, rubbing hard but not entering, pressing against the sensitive flesh of his rim and perineum with languid strokes that makes Caelus whine in frustration.
“Aw, is he teasing you?” A hand strokes through his hair, guiding him to look up at Aventurine who stares hungrily down at him. “What a cruel man.”
The hand descends, fingers pressing on his lips. Caelus can read the intention as they pull his bottom lip down, entering his mouth.
“What say I give you something to focus on, hmm?”
Caelus watches breathlessly as Aventurine lowers the waistband of his briefs, exposing the thick, pierced cock that hangs heavy and flushed. Despite being given no direction, Caelus opens his mouth easily, feeling the hot length across his tongue as it glides past his lips. Aventurine’s fingers help keep his mouth wide open, drool falling down his chin to pool onto the soft sheets beneath him.
Behind him, the scholar finally breaches him, and Caelus moans around the cock in his mouth as it slowly sinks inside of his willing body. It’s an intense pressure that fills him up, leaving him to curl his toes into the bedding while he struggles not to gag around the cock in his mouth.
“Easy,” the Avgin cautions, a hand pressed down on his cheek to comfort him. “You can pull off if it’s too much.”
But Caelus is stubborn, and he does his best to glare up through the tears in his eyes. It says if you try to take this cock from me I will bite it. Aventurine chuckles, wiping away the wetness that drips from his eyes with his thumb.
He doesn’t do much than warm it in his mouth, because his attention is focused more on the solid thrusts that rock his body. Ratio reaches deep and hard, arms braces on either side of his hips as he breathes in steady breathes while his cock destroys and remakes Caelus’ world as he knows it. It brushes spots he only dreamed off, had tentatively explored in the shower when his interest in sex had started to show soon after his awakening. But it’s so much different than his clumsy fingers, so much better as sparks of pleasure bite up his spine in sharp bursts.
That is, until Ratio bears down on him and hammers in so sharply that Caelus can feel it in his stomach. He would’ve said throat, but he currently already has one resting there. But Aventurine pulls out, unleashing Caelus’ wrecked voice as he gasps and pants as he clings to Aventurine, begging and pleading and cursing and and and—
He comes untouched, screaming into Aventurine’s thigh as he buries his face into the soft skin. A gentle hand strokes through his sweat-soaked hair, at odds with the brutal fucking he was receiving.
“He’s almost there,” Aventurine murmurs down at him, pressing a kiss to his quivering cheek, “can you help him cum?”
Caelus nods, lifting his drooling face. The fuzzy cotton in his head recedes just a little, enough for him to bring his knees up under him and jerk his body back as Ratio fucks forward. It’s enough to unsettle the man’s rhythm, and Caelus can feel the pleased groan as it echoes through his body. It’s a messy back and forth; sweat-slicked skin sliding against each other, the growled praises in his ear making him burn hotter and hotter with each word.
It takes Aventurine reaching over to grab at Ratio’s hair, using it to drag him forward, and whispering against his mouth, “Come already, Veritas.”
And he does.
It fills Caelus with heat and wetness. Ratio stills, eyes closed as the blonde-haired man drinks from him his panting mouth his sweet breath.
“So beautiful,” the gambler croons.
And stuck between them as he is, Caelus can only stare dazedly up at the two beautiful men. The softness doesn’t last, however. The pretty cloud Caelus drifts on is abruptly pulled out from under him as Ratio withdraws from his body, leaving him shivering as his sensitive nerves are stroked once more. In his place, Aventurine sits propped up against the headboard, gesturing for him to climb over his lap.
“Ride me, baby,” Aventurine demands, but it’s softened by the plea that Caelus can hear in his voice as he is guided by Ratio’s hand to sit shakily over the blonde man’s lap. “Aeons, that’s it. You’re perfect.”
Caelus feels fingers prod at his swollen and sensitive entrance, and he shuts his eyes and tips his head back as Ratio opens him up. The doctor presses sharp kisses to his neck, interspersed with bites that makes Caelus jerk and sigh, his other hand guiding the leaking cock of Aventurine to the used hole. Cum drips down from his entrance to fall onto the pierced tip, and Ratio uses it to lube up the Avgin’s cock as Caelus slowly lowers himself on shaking legs.
It feels different, from both the positioning and the unyielding rub of the piercing against his prostate, and he can't help clench over the intrusion as he whines. Ratio reaches down to stroke over his cock, giving him encouraging noises as he starts to move. Slowly at first, getting used the thickness and the angle, letting his eyes close and his head fall back as pleasure builds in his gut once more.
Slim hands use his waist to guide him, while another set of larger hands roam his body at their leisure – plucking at his nipples until they’re cherry red, drifting down to where his body accepts Aventurine and presses a curious finger against the smoothed ring of muscle. Tempting, stroking over his sensitive rim, making Caelus wonder if one day his body could accept the both of them at the same time.
“Oh, someone is thinking naughty thoughts. You’re tightening up.” The sound of Aventurine's voice pulls him back, and Caelus opens his bleary eyes to stare down at the wicked smile and bright eyes. With the attention back on him, Aventurine preens and flexes his hips in a rolling motion that has Caelus panting. “The doctor had nice hands, doesn’t he? Perfect size to wrap around your throat as he fucks you silly from behind. Or,” and here the voice drops down to a destructive purr, “to smack your cute ass red.”
One large palm moves to his ass, groping the flesh there in a promise. It’s hard to hold back the shiver, the thoughts that flood his mind.
“There’s plenty of time for us to play around, doll, don’t you worry. We’ll do anything your naughty little mind wants or desires.”
The tempo is still a slow and rough grind, and Caelus struggles to get them moving faster. He can’t reach the same heights as he had with Ratio despite his sensitivity. He tries to fuck himself down harder, and the hands on his hips impede his progress by holding him still with an unnerving strength.
“Why?” he whines, frustrated.
“Because,” the doctor intones, voice frighteningly deep, “seeing you beg and plead for release is the most rewarding sight one could gaze upon. To see you try so hard to reach your peak a second time, only to be held back by my hands, which dictate the pace you’re allowed to take. There’s something pleasing in knowing I am the one who can allow you to take your pleasure.”
“Such a sadist,” Aventurine laughs, the sound choked as Caelus clenches tightly over him. “Maybe we should find a way to shut his pretty mouth up in the future, or even tie him up and have our way with his unresisting body. What do you say, doll? Wanna play with him alongside me?”
Caelus opens his mouth to respond, and at that moment Ratio uses the grip he has on him to move his body. The words are lost (he was going to say yes!) as his prostate is struck head on, the hard metal decorating the tip a delicious graze that has his eyes rolling.
The mouth of the doctor presses to his ear, the bite of it sharp as he growls out, “You want to use my body as you please when you can barely control your own? Laughable.” And then a hand snakes down to wrap around his cock, holding it tight to stave off the impending orgasm. “Let us show you how it’s done.”
Without removing himself from Caelus’ body, Aventurine topples them back, and it leaves Caelus breathless as he stares up from his new position as his legs are locked over the gambler’s shoulders, the pounding picking up pace as Ratio drinks his whines from his drooling mouth. It’s too much. It’s perfect.
When he comes, it’s to words whispered into his ears by two voices that destroy his world. Words of love and affection, of shackles and binding vows. They press against his skin, sinking under his flesh, and wrapping around his Stellaron fractured heart.
~*~
Aventurine smiles as he glances down at the sleeping young man, delighting in the marks that litter his neck and thighs in blooming little rosettes.
“I assume the payment went through?”
Ratio emerges from the bathroom in a cloud of steam, a towel barely clinging to his hips as he does his hair with another towel. Aventurine follows a drop of water hungrily as it slides down his generous chest, over his flat stomach, and down to where the towel hides the beat part of the scholar.
“Of course it did,” he says, wondering if he could somehow persuade the other man into getting into bed naked. He knew of Ratio's preference for cleanliness, but he desperately wanted to soil the beautiful and annoying man once again. “Gallagher appreciates it.”
“That man does love putting on a show. It worked in our favor though.”
“It was difficult to persuade him that he doesn’t need Caelus when he already has an angel to corrupt, but lady luck was on our side with the bet we placed.” Reaching up, Aventurine pulls the doctor down to press a searing kiss to his lips. “Veritas.”
“Kakavasha,” his dark haired lover returns, biting his bottom lip before he pulls away. “The water is still warm if you require a bath.”
“Take over for me then. Keep our baby warm.”
They switch, leaving Ratio to stare at the innocent face as it slumbers while Aventurine makes his way into the bathroom. And just like his blonde lover before him, he can’t look away from the young man who sleeps, blissfully unaware of the game they had played.
~*~
Caelus slides into his seat at the bar, smiling up at the older man who raises a brow at him as he cleans a glass.
“Welcome back,” Gallagher greets, glancing over the areas where his collared shirt hangs too low to hide. “What can I get for you?”
Caelus tilts his head in thought, exposing even more of his mauled neck. “What about a Ménage à trois?”
“Heh, it would be my pleasure.”
The drink, as it slides up to him, is a mix of a gold leaf rim and cobalt blue liquid that sings with fizz. Caelus gives his thanks, sipping at the drink. It tingles pleasantly as it slides down his throat and settles in his stomach, and he sighs in appreciation as he smiles up at the bartender.
“Thanks, that’s just what I needed.”
“Glad I could help.” Wine red eyes flicker up to something over his shoulder. “What can I get you?”
“Don’t worry about it, friend,” comes the smooth voice, a hand following to slide against the indent of Caelus’ waist. “Just here to pick him up. Have a little surprise for him that can’t wait much longer.”
Gallagher puts his hands up. “Don’t let me keep you then. It’s on the house,” he says to Caelus as he sees the young man pull out his wallet. “Glad you found yourself a drink that fits you a little better.”
But it’s Aventurine who slides a gold card across the bar top, his smile knife-like as he looks at the older man over the top of his glasses. “Thanks for your service, friend. Consider it a tip.”
The other man sizes him up, but says nothing as he takes the card with a nod of his head. “Thanks for your patronage. You have yourselves a good evening.”
“We plan on it,” is the sharp retort as Aventurine herds his younger lover out of the bar.
“Why the rush?” Caelus asks, leaning into the warm body as the arm of his lover settles around his shoulder.
“I have my reasons,” is the cryptic answer he receives, but Caelus has grown use to the man’s eccentricities to see the excitement that boils in strange and beautiful eyes.
Reasons end up being a darkly lit room, the scent of honey thick in the air. And when his eyes adjust to the dim lighting, Caelus finds his breath catching in his throat as he looks towards the bed. In a wicked web of bindings, there sits the spider with his arms drawn up and his legs tied in a way that has them bent and pulled to the side to showcase his magnificent body. Oil glistens over his skin, sliding down his chest to pool in his navel like a small drink ready to be savored.
Ratio stares at him, mouth rendered silent by the gag placed between his lips. Who needs words, Caelus thinks, as the carmine eyes burn with intention.
“For you,” his other lover comments, pressing a kiss to his ear. “Do as you please, darling. I can’t wait to see what delightful things you bring to life.”
Caelus swallows, the remnants of his drink still thick on his palette, as hands start to strip him. And here, in this den of monsters, he allows himself to be eaten…and eat in return.