#coldatomwave

Even if he didn’t entirely understand exactly what it was that Mick needed.

They’d seen the quiet heartbreak in Ray’s eyes when they’d retreated to Mick’s room together, hand in hand, but Mick was hungry to get back into the arms of his oldest and most favored worshipper, and Len just as eager to get back to the business of worshipping.

But now they’d sated themselves (at least for the first round, anyway) and their talk turned to Ray.

His friendly loyalty. His steadfastness. His enthusiasm.

Yes, perhaps he would work.

Perhaps he would even stay.

Intact, that is.

“It’s worth a shot,” Len agreed.

Mick smiled, and reached up to the headboard. A touch is enough for him to warp the mechanical mind that governs the ship to his will – he doesn’t even really need to do that much, but why take any risks when he’s willing to extert himself a little? – and Gideon politely informed Ray that he was wanted in Mick’s room immediately.

Ray had no idea how true that was.

He protested, citing Len’s presence, but Gideon repeated the invitation and stressed the immediacy of it, and so Ray overcame his reluctance and made his way to Mick’s room.

He walked inside and froze at the sight of the two men lounging in bed, the blankets covering Len up to his chest but only one of Mick’s legs. They were both clearly naked.

“Uh, I, oh, I,” Ray stuttered. “I thought Mick wanted me –”

He tried to retreat, but the door slammed shut behind him and locked.

“He does,” Len drawled.

“I do,” Mick agrees. “Want you.”

He gestured to the center of the bed between them.

“You – wait. You’re inviting me…?”

“Yes.”

“You guys want to have a threesome with me?” Ray asked.

Len sighed. “No,” he said patiently. He hadn’t understood either, at first. “You and me, we’re both good worshippers, and Mick here, Mick likes worship. That’s what we’re inviting you to do. Or are you telling me you don’t want to go down onto your knees for him right now?”

He looked pointedly at Ray, who found himself unable to lie, staring as he was at Mick’s uncovered body.

“You telling me,” Len continued, lips curling into a smirk as Ray’s telling silence continued, “that you haven’t wanted to do this from the very start? I know you, Raymond. You can be so good when you want to be. And Mick likes it when you’re good for him, you know that?“

Ray’s eyes go a little wider.

So do his legs.

Len grins. "Oh yeah,” he says, satisfied. “Mick likes it when you feast your eyes on him like you can’t get enough. And Mick’s going to like it when you get down on your knees and crawl to us now.”

Ray gulped.

“Or you could turn around and go,” Len added, waving a hand. "If you want.”

The door behind Ray unlocked with a loud click.

“Your choice,” Mick said. He’s lying back on the pillows, his body language loose but his eyes intent. His body is on display: the twisted burn scars, the muscles glistening with sweat, even his thick cock resting on his thigh. “But as Snart here likes to say: if you’re in, you’re in. No turning back.”

Ray swallowed.

He did not go.

He went to his knees, and he crawled.

“Good boy,” Mick said, reaching out to cup Ray’s head. “Very good.”

Ray mewled a little. He was hard already. He’d been hard since he walked into the room.

“You’re going to be mine, aren’t you?” Mick asked. “You’re going to be my good little worshipper, right?”

Ray nodded.

“Say it,” Mick said.

“Swear it,” Len said.

“I swear,” Ray said, his eyes locked on Mick, filled with love. “I’m yours. I’m your worshipper.”

Mick smiled, and his smile had too many teeth.

“Good,” he said, and the great inky darkness at the heart of him spilled out into the room, spilling past flesh and into soul, and Ray had only moments of realization that something was not as he had expected before he was drowning in that immense power, power that curled itself around him, filling him with pleasure beyond human imagination, and whispering in his ear that Ray done well - so well - to agree, that now it would all be his; he would be loved as he had never been loved before, that he would see his darkest dreams come true, that he would never be alone again: he would be Mick’s, always, through life and beyond death.

He would never again feel as though he did not belong.

“Oh god yes,” Ray moaned, even as his mind began to fracture beneath the weight of that darkness. “Yes, please, yes –”

Mick laughed, and the darkness laughed with him.

“I’ll show you,” Len said to Ray, all eagerness now. He remembered his own first time; it had been much the same. “I’ll show you how to pleasure him best, how to worship him properly; you’ll love it. It’s so good, Raymond; it’s so good.”

“Yes,” Ray whimpered, unable to think, unable to do anything but agree. “Yes.”

Len pulled him onto the bed. “Tonight I’ll show you the ropes,” he said. “And all you need to do is lie here and enjoy. You - we - can do something a little more – exciting – next time around.”

Ray nodded. He let Len arrange his limbs, pulling and pushing him until he’s on his hands and knees, his legs apart – his clothing has dissolved, he notices, but he doesn’t know when that happened.

“Look,” Len said encouragingly, and he made sure Ray was looking when he coaxed out a long thick strand of darkness from the morass that surrounded them in the room: long and thick and heavy, smooth as glass but Ray could feel the warmth of it.

He could feel the warmth of it as Len coaxed it up to his entrance, smoothing the way for it with his fingers, and pushing it in with a slick ease that should be impossible, but Ray felt no pain: there was nothing but pleasure, pleasure and the promise of more pleasure, endless pleasure. The feeling of Mick inside of him at last, where it ought to be, and Ray’s legs trembled as he took him in deep, deeper than he’d ever had anything or anyone.

“You’re doing good,” Mick rumbled. “You’re doing so good for me.”

“You can do more,” Len said encouragingly. “Would you like him in your mouth, too?”

Ray nodded furiously. He could do things with his mouth: he was clever with his tongue, everyone was always saying so. He could please Mick that way, he could show him his affection, his devotion.

No, not devotion.

Worship.

Yes.

Len pulled another tendril of darkness out and brought it to Ray’s lips, which parted willingly to let Len push it onto his tongue. For a moment, it tasted of the first breath of night air, and then it solidified, turning hot and pulsing on his tongue – hot the way Ray had always imagined Mick would be hot, even if this wasn’t exactly the way he’d imagined it going. But now that it was, he can’t imagine ever being contented with anything else.

“Good,” Len said, moving the tendril in and out of Ray’s lips before releasing it, watching with satisfaction as Ray’s head bobbed up and down, tongue moving, lips moving, spit slicking the corners of his mouth. “Oh, good. You picked a good one this time, Mick.”

“I know I did,” Mick said, pleased. He ran his hands down Ray’s sides, and Ray moaned around him. “He’s very good, this one. I’m going to keep him with me always.”

Len smiled.

“You can do a little more,” he said to Ray, who cracked open an eye to look at him in confusion. The confusion faded as Len helped Ray sit back onto his heels, sinking deeper onto the thick tendril spiking him open, freeing his hands to take one tendril in each one – Len showed Ray how to pull them forth himself – and then Ray could use his hands, too.

He could not speak to show Len his gratitude, but he murmured it around the tendril still between his lips.

Len understood regardless. “Don’t worry,” he murmured, sliding forward until their hips were aligned, his hard cock sliding against Ray’s. Their true pleasure was in serving Mick, of course, but Mick enjoyed their bodily pleasure as well. “You don’t need to thank me. There’s enough to go around. “

“Yes,” Mick said as the tendrils of darkness reached out for Len, too. He would have them all night like this, using hole after hole, filling them with spurts of darkness that dribbled down their thighs and their mouths and slicked their hands, darkness that would only increase their desire for more. More pleasure, more darkness, more Mick. More chance to worship him: their only desire, now. “There’s more than enough.”