#hookedwrites

II had a problem. He'd had this problem for years - an aversion. He didn't want to have the problem, but he did. An aversion to spit, to sharing drinks, to…better things. He used to be able to. But then, something happened. He didn't even know what. Just, one day, going down on IV, he was gagging and choking on the smell alone. He was so embarrassed, even when IV assured him that it was alright. It went on for years. II hated it, but he got used to not being able to pleasure IV as he so badly wanted to.

One day, something new broke, or something reconnected, or…II wasn't sure. He was laying on the couch, head near IV, who was sitting upright. IV's hand tangled in his hair. Loosely, gently tugging the strands. II needed a haircut. He could smell traces of IV's body wash. The faintest wisp of IV's sweat. Salty, clean, something he missed after showering off the three hours at the gym. II felt an unfamiliar urge rise in his throat, in his mouth. Once familiar, but long since a stranger. II moved closer, wiggling over the couch so he could get his head in IV's lap. He just…wanted to be close, he told himself. Nevermind his mouth suddenly watering at the closer, stronger scent.

"Hi, baby," IV crooned, gravelly voice sending a shiver through II. "Coming to snuggle with me?" II murmured in agreement. Trying to hide…whatever was going on with him. He didn't know. He swallowed hard.

"Is that okay?" Shyness overwhelmed him. What if it wasn't?

"Of course, baby boy. Why wouldn't it be okay?" IV's fucking tone. II couldn't help it. He turned and buried his face in IV's soft belly, hiding a rush of tears and red blushing. He felt so weird. He kind of hated it. But if IV would talk like that again…

II's mouth was unbearably empty. Unbearably.

He worked IV's shirt up, mouthing at his belly. His soft, fuzzy, delicious belly. He almost nipped at him. IV laughed, a soft and deep and warming sound. "What are you doing?" His voice was so warm. II rolled the fuzzy skin between his teeth, nipping and sucking and…there it is. IV's cock filled out. "Honey," II didn't know where any of this was coming from. He knew what he wanted. He just had to ask for it. IV's big, warm, hard cock twitched as II pushed his mouth lower, moving the soft shorts down a bit. All he had to do was ask.

"C…can I…um," II looked up, meeting IV's eyes. They were such a soft blue. So pretty. "Can I suck…," he couldn't say it. Just. Needed. IV's face was open, pretty and slightly flushed from II's attention. II got frustrated with himself. Just ask! He blew air out of his nose. "My mouth is empty,"

IV got it then. He had been confused. II was never like this, hadn't been in a long long time. II hadn't used that phrase in so long, but IV knew exactly what it meant. II's eyes were so big, so blue. He looked bewildered by his own behavior, but powerless to stop it. It sent heat curling through IV's belly.

"Your mouth?" IV questioned. II, still red, worked the tip of IV's cock up and over the waistband. It smelled warm, musky, the heat was coming off of it. II didn't think, wasn't held back by his own mind for once. He just… licked the tip. That was all he needed. IV bucked, just enough to get his shorts worked down. "Shit, baby. You wanna suck my cock?"

"Yes, I, oh," II stopped trying to talk, sucked the entire tip into his mouth. Taste, heat, sensation all exploded over II's tongue. He sucked HARD. IV squeaked. Something…relief, is what it was, flooded through II. He fit as much of IV into his mouth as he could. Then, he rested his head against IV's belly and just…sucked. He felt the twitches, tasted the beginning of salty pre starting in the back of his throat. The sensation of IV just…in his mouth, on his tongue, II began rocking his own hips down into the couch. It wasn't even about getting off. It was just about keeping his mouth full. IV twitched when II ran a finger down the portion of his cock that II wasn't sucking.

"Baby," IV groaned, hand back in II's hair. II hollowed his cheeks and sucked harder. II enjoyed the movement of IV's flesh, as he sucked and licked. Sweet, clean tang of his cock, backed up by salt. It was…good. II wasn't a prisoner of his mind, his gag reflex wasn't going haywire. He was happy to just feel IV filling his mouth. He reached down and took IV's balls in his hand. They were so heavy. Heavy and full and… II pulled off of his cock and started mouthing at his balls. The scent was even stronger and II moaned loudly. IV groaned with him. II sucked on the softness, felt the give, the heat, felt them fill more against his face. IV's cock got harder in his hand. II went back to his dick, messy with pre and II's spit running down the shaft. "Baby…," IV warned. II knew what it meant. IV started trying to push him off, remembering just how badly he'd gotten sick last time. II refused. He needed it. He sucked repeatedly, rhythmically, harder and harder until IV couldn't hold it back. Hot, sticky, slightly bitter cum poured into II's mouth and throat. II swallowed it all and whined for more. IV panted. "Oh, you're so good for me, thank you baby,"

IV expected him to pull off. But as he got soft in II's mouth, II liked it even more. He kept going. Kept sucking. It was easier with him soft. "Baby… II," IV's voice got stronger as he started twitching from oversensitivity. II whined.

"No, please, lemme stay, I just," IV shoved his thumb in II's talking mouth.

IV’s hazy blue eyes locked with mine after the third hard gag. He looked so sweet, but vaguely disappointed. He shifted forward to look at me closer, holding my head still by my hair. His cock was so big that I literally could not take it all the way back without gagging and pulling backwards. Disappointment swamped me, especially when he suddenly looked up and away from me. 

“Wait, no, I can-” I wanted to say that I can do this, dammit. A deep, calm voice came from behind me, near the entrance to the living room. 

“I can teach them, if you’d like,” II. I watched IV swallow while he processed what II said. I turned, and looked at II. He leaned on the doorframe, examining his nails. 

“I know how to do it,” I huffed. He pointedly ignored me, holding eye contact with IV. One of his eyebrows raised at my words, and IV shifted behind me. II moved into the room, coming closer to where I was on the floor. 

“I can show them how to please you. You know I know how,” II’s voice was low. It curled around me like smoke, deep and warm. IV was staring at II, probably remembering all the times that II had been in the position I was now in. IV’s jaw worked. II’s smile spread across his face, and now he looked at me. “May I teach you, sweet boy?” His voice was both kind and condescending, the same way I’d heard people talk to animals before. Dogs. 

“I know how to do it,” I reiterated. 

“Maybe you’d let him teach you?” IV finally spoke. Humiliation curled within my gut. IV wasn’t satisfied. IV’s dick jumped as he said it. This was exciting to him. 

“Open your mouth,” II demanded, his eyes sparkling. My jaw fell open, shocked. “What a good listener you are,” II leaned over, looking right into my mouth. He hooked one finger in it, pushing down on my tongue and forcing saliva to pool. A second finger in my mouth, gathering all the spit. When he removed his fingers, he immediately wrapped them around IV’s dick. He spread my spit over IV’s dick. “Watch his face, pet,” II instructed. So I did. Blush was creeping up IV’s neck. His pupils were expanding, blowing out and obscuring the blue entirely. II bit down on his lip before speaking again. “Now, I want you to listen to me very carefully. Can you do that for me?” his tone. His voice. It was making every muscle in my abdomen clench. My chest flushed deep red and my face was heating. 

“Okay,” 

“Say ‘yes, sir’,” IV spoke again. His voice was a breathy moan. II glanced at IV, a look of warning on his face. 

“I will teach them, IV,” II’s voice was rock steady, ocean deep and oh so self assured. II turned back to me, cupping my face with his hands. He pushed on the hinge of my jaw, popping my mouth open. “You’re so easy, sweet boy. Are you going to listen very carefully to everything I have to say?” that humiliation that had been brewing in my gut blossomed into white hot arousal. I nodded frantically. II quirked a brow at me. 

“Y-yes sir,” II reached backwards at my words, grabbing a pillow. 

“Put this under your knees,” doing as he asked made every muscle tense. “Oh, you like following directions, don’t you?” IV whined. II laughed. IV was being neglected, his dick getting redder by the moment. The big vein on the underside pulsed, just waiting for some stimulation. “Oh, IV, are you ready? I couldn’t tell,” II’s dry humor did not crack through the haze that IV was clearly losing himself to. 

“Y-yes, sir,” IV groaned. I’d never seen him so lost to desire. 

“You,” II drew my attention to his face again. “Be good or I’ll crush you beneath my heel,” the warning was snarled, very different from everything else II had said to me so far. It tugged the cord in my stomach. Especially when he immediately dissolved back into that other version he’d been. Weightlessness began to radiate out into my limbs. A pleasant buzz took over my brain. “That’s right,” II’s voice was all croony and sweet again. “There you go. Good boy. Now, listen,” he cupped the back of my head and directed me forward, my cheek against IV’s thigh. The soft hairs of IV’s thigh felt so nice against my cheek, as II dragged my head up his thigh, to where his hip meets his thigh. His thigh muscles twitched in anticipation as II guided my head ever closer to IV’s dick. “Inhale,” II’s voice was right against my ear, lips brushing the outer shell. Following his instruction made my fingers tingle with just how good it felt. “Describe what you smell,” 

“I smell IV,” I inhaled again. “He smells like his body wash and sweat,” II inhaled. I could feel the air rustling against my ear. 

“Good boy. Now. Lean forward. Closed mouth kisses all over the head. Can you do that for me?” I shifted, leaning so that I could follow his instruction to the letter. IV’s skin was smooth and hot under my lips, with little traces of pre around his slit. “Kiss down his shaft,” II’s hand pushed through my hair. I kissed down IV’s smooth, musky skin, desperate to trace that vein with my tongue. II shifted off of the couch, settling behind me. He placed his hands on both sides of my head, using his fingers to move my jawbone open again. IV must have been watching because when II opened my mouth, IV gasped. 

“P-please,” he stuttered, hips bucking just a little bit. II leaned forward, pushing his entire body against mine, so that he could hold IV’s hips down against the couch. 

“You’ll hurt them if you do that,” II warned. His voice was just amazing. It intensified that sweet, weightless feeling that was enveloping me like his body was. “Will you be good?” IV keened at II’s question. 

“Yes, yes, I’ll be so good, I swear, just please please please,” 

“Oh, you poor, desperate thing,” II chuckled, and every single muscle in my body and IV’s body tensed at the sensuality that the man was oozing. “Now, what I want you to do is take a deep breath and place the head of his cock in your mouth. Go slow,” the smell of IV’s dick became taste. Warm and salty, with musk tickling the back of my throat. IV twitched in my mouth, but restrained himself from bucking his hips again. “Pull back. Kiss his hips and his belly,” an accidental whine slipped out of my own lips, but I followed direction. II moved onto the couch, leaving my back cold. “I want to see your cute face,” he said when he saw me looking at him. Soft blond hairs tickled my cheeks while I kissed along IV’s happy trail. The soft skin of his belly dimpled beneath the pressure of my nose when I kissed along his curves. “You look lovely like that,” II whispered. “Now, I’m going to make them suck your cock nice and slow. Are you going to behave like a fucking animal and choke them, or do you want to cum?” II’s voice was farther away now. I glanced up and nearly choked. II had IV’s neck in his hand, applying enough pressure with his index and middle finger to force IV’s head on an angle. IV was trying to nod. 

“I want to cum,” 

“Let him cum, II, please,” I didn’t even recognize my voice. It was pitchy and whiny and embarrassingly needy. I just wanted to shut my whole brain off, and let II do all the thinking for me. II tsked. He actually tsked at me. 

“Needy boys. You just want his cock in your mouth, huh? Well, let me see if I can help you with that. Open your mouth and show me how you do it,” I popped IV’s dick back in my mouth and hollowed out my cheeks immediately. “Relax your throat now,” II commanded. The moment I followed his command, IV bucked. “Swallow,” my gag reflex was firing, but I swallowed as he said to. IV’s dick was choking me now, popped in the back of my throat. “Swallow again, and inhale through your nose. Do not struggle,” I willed myself to relax, and swallow and even try to breathe. My gag reflex began to calm down. “Good. Slow breaths, and exhale as you pull him back out of your throat. I know he’s big, baby, but if you don’t slowly work him out it will hurt,” hands were in my hair, gently tugging me off of IV’s dick. “Oh, good boy. You listen to me so well,” I moaned at II’s praise, and that made IV moan louder. “Oh, oh, does that feel good, IV? All those little vibrations running right up your cock?” IV threw his head back. 

“Yes, yes, oh my god, yes, it feels so good,” his whines and groans were spurring me on, and I dove back in before getting permission. 

“Hey! Slow down. You will hurt yourself,” II reprimanded. The authority in his tone made me tense up, face flushing worse than before. But he didn’t pull me off of IV’s dick, so I kept going. I did what II told me to do, and was able to work IV into my throat with only one gag. “Look at you. You learn well, don’t you?” I wanted to nod, but all of IV was stopping me from moving. My nose was tickled by blond hairs. IV’s dick was thickening in my mouth as I swallowed around him, until II’s hand shot down and grabbed it by the base. My whine harmonized with IV’s groan, both of us fully devastated by II choking IV’s orgasm off. “Grab his balls, pet. Gently, and press your index finger behind them, same pressure you would use to draw on a foggy window,” II moved my head backwards a bit, so that IV wasn’t actually lodged in my throat anymore. IV’s balls were soft with hair, but tight and tense from his near-orgasm. II’s hand snaked backwards, but stayed on IV’s hip. Precum was flooding my mouth and throat, thick and hot and almost bitter. I pressed down behind IV’s balls as II said and IV came instantly. “Do. Not. Swallow,” II enunciated each word so clearly that I knew there would be something terrible if I did swallow. IV’s cock worked, throbbing and pulsing against my tongue. Cum dribbled a little out of the corner of my mouth. After a moment, IV untensed. II pulled me off of his dick. “Open your mouth,” I did. I knew he could see cum pooled on my tongue and dripping off my teeth. II leaned forward and kissed me, licking IV’s cum off of my tongue and teeth. IV shifted forward, trying to join the kiss. He licked my cheek, and II’s cheek as well. II pulled backwards, and showed me IV’s cum that was in his own mouth before making a dramatic show of swallowing. 

III stormed into the dressing room. He was clearly on a mission. 

“Good, you're not ready yet,” he said on seeing Vessel seated and in comfy clothes. Nothing stage related, yet. 

“Why is that good?” III's eyes glittered, full of mischief. 

“I found something,” he held up a slender tube. A body paint tube. 

“Body paint? Yeah, I'd hope so at one of our shows,”

“No. I was reading on it, and it's edible,” Vessel tore his shirt off in response. III took his time applying it to Vessel. Every dip and valley of his impressive musculature was lovingly coated. Vessel was half hard by the time III had finished putting the paint on him. III kissed him hard, lips smeared with fresh paint. “I'll go get your lipstick,” 

III returned, the familiar tube in hand. Faded letters had once said SEPHORA on the cap. Vessel took the tube, walked to the mirror. III watched him apply it, his lips smeared in black paint. 

The plan was to put it on, wear it for the show. 

Vessel made a show of III that night. Touches, kisses, and the triumphant return of the song Sugar to the set list. Along with…all…of the antics. III wasn’t able to keep his dick down. Vessel was dripping black paint. He was working hard, sweating and panting. III was going to make him pant more. The edible paint clearly did not stick to him as well as their normal paint, but III was into it. The curls just above Vessel’s waistband were dark with it. It was making III feel crazy. Then. The opening chimes to Sugar. Vessel was right in front of him, beckoning him, contorting him. Had him on the ground. Vessel was gorgeous. If III hadn’t been wearing the mask, he’d be licking paint off of Vessel on stage. As it was, his mouth couldn’t reach that sweat slick skin. 

After the show, III practically charged. The moment he had them in their dressing room, he turned and locked the door. Before he could turn, before he could pursue Vessel, Vessel was pushing him against the door. His shoulders hit the door hard. Vessel shoved their masks off, showing the streaks of paint coming down his face. Immediately, III’s mouth was on him, licking the paint off of his cheeks. III had always thought those soft cheekbones were lovely, but now licking paint and sweat off of them, he loved them even more. Vessel dodged his tongue, ducking under III’s chin. His mask was also off, the paint on III’s neck mostly gone. Vessel stuck his tongue out, licking the sweat and paint from III’s neck. III whined high in his throat. The paint was bitter and the sweat salty on Vessel’s tongue. The scent of III’s weed lingered, enticing Vessel. He cleaned III’s neck, listening to III whine and moan. Vessel had one of his strong thighs planted between III’s legs, and III was shamelessly grinding against it. He could feel that III was almost fully hard. III pushed him back, getting him down onto the couch across the room so that III could lick every inch of him clean. He realized he didn’t really care what III did, as long as he got that hot mouth around his dick. III licked across his nipples. The resulting cold air made them harden. It felt good. III continued southbound. Vessel let his head fall back when III started nipping at his hip bones. 

“Lemme suck you off,” III moaned into Vessel’s waistband. He undid Vessel’s belt and wrestled his pants open. 

“Yeah, y-yeah,” Vessel started to stutter as III got his pants off. “P-please,” III’s hand wrapped around his cock. He spit, saliva shot through with black paint, and watched it drip down Vessel’s dick. 

“You look good, covered in my spit,” III grinned before taking the head of Vessel’s cock into his mouth. The tight heat was exactly what Vessel needed after the show. III took him deep, tight and delicious and wet. Spit trailed down, Vessel could feel it starting to drip. He imagined the saliva with the black paint through it and bucked into III’s mouth. It wasn’t…on purpose, exactly. But, III moaned because of it. And then he really went in on it. Each upstroke had Vessel gasping and moaning. III snuck one hand behind his balls, pressing on the space between them and his asshole. Little sparks shot off behind Vessel’s eyes. He looked down and locked eyes with III. Seeing dregs of black paint around his mouth, locking eyes with those glassy blues had Vessel moaning all over again. His eyes rolled up, pleasure bubbling pleasantly through his veins. III swallowed once, twice, again. It made Vessel’s abs tighten. He could feel the whip of pleasure that would be his orgasm coiling up. 

“Do you even have a gag reflex?” he was panting again. Like he’d just sung his heart out. III popped off, smiled a blackened smile and shook his head. He then swallowed all of Vessel in one go. This time, Vessel got one of his hands in III’s hair, leaving black streaks in the bleachy blonde. III pressed up against that spot with his fingers again, this time with his palm warm against Vessel’s balls. He swallowed again, pulled back, laved his tongue against the ridge under the head. It drove Vessel wild, that little movement of III’s tongue. Especially when III pushed again with his fingers. Vessel couldn’t help it. He bucked hard, cock pulsing now. III felt it thickening on his tongue, and swallowed as hard as he could. That whip of pleasure unfurled, snapping up and down Vessel’s spine. “Shit, fuck, unh,” he groaned, hands in III’s hair, pulling. III swallowed again, swallowed repeatedly until Vessel whined from nerves burning. 

“Let us in, you horny bastards!” IV’s voice came through the door, followed by a fist pounding on the door. 

 The idea had come to you after one late night and a lot of partying. You set everything up. You had the only lamp in the room trained on you. You had two toys and a new bottle of lube. Now you were just waiting for them to get home. II and III had been out all day, shopping. They were on their way home now and you knew exactly how you wanted them to find you. You opened the lube, drizzling some on your fingertips to warm it up before putting it on your body. You wanted to shut their brains off, make them go stupid at the sight of you spread out on the bed. You rubbed at your clit for a second, feeling the slide of the lube and making sure there was enough for what you wanted to do. First, you picked up the jeweled plug. III had picked it out and shyly presented it to you several weeks ago, and you hadn’t had the chance to use it yet. The gem itself was a green so dark it was nearly black. Extra lube dripped down the tip of the plug, slow and thick like honey. You were beginning to drip, just thinking of them coming home and finding you all plugged up and on the edge of orgasm. You reached down and massaged extra lube around your ass. II was completely obsessed with it, fucking you there, being inside of you, so it felt a bit easier than it used to. You slowly pressed the tip of the plug into your ass after making sure there was a ton of lube. A silly, high pitched squeak escaped as you pushed the plug further in, spreading you out. You inhaled, relaxing as much as you could. Some slight resistance had you pulling the plug back out a bit, then pushing it in a bit harder. It hurt then, but only for a moment. The plug popped in, your asshole relaxed, you were full and you groaned loudly. 

You heard the front door then. You clenched, thinking about them coming into the bedroom. Quickly, you grabbed your other toy. A pretty rabbit vibrator. It hummed to life and you worked it inside your now completely soaking wet pussy. A dangerous combination of lube and your own fluids that would send III into a tailspin. Boots echoed down the hall. II and III were nearly in the bedroom door. III murmured to II, shushing him. 

“Don't shush me,” II retorted. 

“No, shut up, do you hear that?” then they both paused. They’d heard your vibe.

“Is she in here,” the doorway darkened. You threw your head back so you didn’t see them, a wave of shyness overtaking you. You weren’t completely used to being on display. The movement made the prongs of the rabbit jolt against your clit, sending sweet vibrations running up your body. You were so full, and the rabbit was vibrating at a frequency that was just a little too low to actually get you off. On purpose, of course. You wanted II and III to get you off.  

“Chairs,” III mused. You had set chairs up. You heard one creak. They were sitting down. You moaned again, wondering what they were thinking. 

“She's wearing a plug, brave little thing, did you put that in all by yourself?” One of them leaned forward and tapped the gem. You cried out then. And gasped. And nodded. 

“Words, bird,” 

“If you can't talk, we'll just watch. No touching,” II had already shifted into full Dom mode, and it was making your head go all fuzzy.

“Oh, but I want to touch,” 

“No,” his voice was sharper then. Commanding. 

“Alright, love. Whatever you say,” your clit had developed its own heartbeat. It was throbbing, begging for them to get closer. “But… look at her, She's so wet,” 

“Don't be a fucking brat,” II’s voice was low. III kind of groaned then. You whined, and risked looking up. They were both staring at you. II’s eyes were glued to your hand movements. III saw that you had moved your head and he was looking at your face. “Not like her. Dirty bird had to stuff both her holes while we were out,” You pushed the vibrator deeper then, and knocked the setting up one. 

“She liked that,” 

“Of course she did,” they were just…watching. You didn’t want to talk, but there wasn’t any other way to get them to touch you. You knew the only way to get them to touch, now that II had laid down his order. So, you allowed that switch in your mind to flip. You were going to turn the tables on them both. 

“Could have been you, you know. Both of you, buried inside of me,” your voice was low, throttled by desire. You rarely heard it go that deep and gravelly. “But since you've refused to touch me, I've now decided you can't,” you flipped the vibrator onto its almost highest setting. 

“You won't be saying that after you make yourself cum,” 

“You'll let us do anything we want once you get stupid,” their voices overlapped. They may have been right, but you weren’t about to act as though you weren’t in control. You rolled over then, bending over your thighs so they had a really clear view of your plug and vibrator. II moaned then. You knew you had him with the plug. You worked yourself harder. You were definitely, definitely going to cum. You pushed then, hoping to force yourself over the edge. You almost stopped, almost panicked, it felt too good. But then III smacked your ass, jolting the plug and sending you into a long, spiraling orgasm. 

“Mmm, there she is,” you groaned again, the bubbles in your blood making your toes curl. It felt so good. “Help me,” II asked III. Their hands moved you, and you were in between them with II in your face and III behind you. 

“Wait, no, you take her ass,” III’s voice was rumbling in your ear. “You have a thing for it,” 

“Dude, no, I'll barely last thirty seconds if I do that,” II threw his head back, sounding suspiciously like a brat. 

“That's the point, love,” III crooned at him. II grumbled but assented. Neither of them moved. They didn’t have to. They grabbed you and spun you in a 180. “Hi, hun,” III grinned down at your dazed, post orgasm face. II was working the plug out of your ass, so he could get his fingers in there. 

“Ready?” II was gritting his teeth, likely trying to steel himself against an orgasm. 

“Mm, lay her down over me. I want to feel her against me,” III kind of took control. Hands forced your thighs further apart and then you were laying on top of III while II and III both eased inside of you. You squealed. 

“Oh, way too much, too full,” You protested. They moaned in unison, a deep vibrating noise rattling your body. II was immediately chasing his orgasm. He could not help it, you were just so tight and hot and slick from the copious amounts of lube you had used. He loved being inside of you. But he was too cute, too quick with his orgasms when he was. You barely noticed him finishing, because III was conducting a perfect rhythm on your clit, sending you barreling toward another orgasm. III held your gaze, making you get shy. You buried your face in his neck, huffing against it and making him squirm. Then you remembered just how sensitive he was near his jawbone. You ran your tongue up his neck then, and bit down. 

“Shit,” he arched then, pushing deeper into you. You did it again, pressing soft kisses with teeth all along his neck. II eased out of you, making you clench hard. III moaned then. A broken, sweet long sound. He started throbbing inside of you. You moaned his name right into his ear. He gasped as he came. 

“Desperate things, look at you,” 

“As if you didn't cum in thirty seconds,” you mumbled, post orgasm bliss still lining your limbs and a shit eating grin overtaking your face. 

Vessel was laying with his head hanging off the couch. He was watching III across the low coffee table. III was rolling a joint, cross legged on the floor. Vessel watched his long fingers move the paper perfectly. Not a crinkle, not a noise. Silent. Perfect.

"You wanna try?" Vessel wrinkled his nose and shook his head.

"Dunno what it'd do," III's brow furrowed. He was so cute.

"Get you..high? Dumbass," but III's voice held no malice. "I'm still gonna smoke," the lighter sparked. It was so quiet in the room, Vessel could hear the ground up leaves begin to smolder.

"It's so quiet," he whispered. III smiled around the burning joint. His inhale was loud in the silent room. Vessel would swear that he heard the smoke get stuck in III's lungs, even. III exhaled, and Vessel watched. The smoke plumed around III, cascading out of his nose. The movement of the smoke was hypnotic. The skunky, weird, bitter smell filled the room. III pulled the joint away from his mouth and stood up on long, lean legs. Vessel sat upright to watch more. III went across the basement, opened the mini fridge and grabbed a gatorade. The smoke lingered. He came back and sat right next to Ves.

"It is quiet. Let's watch something," III flicked the TV on and began scrolling through the apps. Vessel just watched him take another hit. The smoke curled around him this time, and Vessel coughed on the smell. Something turned on. Vessel wasn't paying attention. III smoking was art. III turned his head then, caught Vessel staring. "You sure you don't want to try? You've been looking,"

"Dunno," III turned his whole body toward Vessel then.

"You do,"

"Nuh uh," was all Vessel could come up with. III's eyes were starting to redden, his smile was looser.

"Sure," he shifted, moving so that he could swing one leg up and over Vessel's lap. Vessel startled, grabbing III by the hips before realizing he was grabbing his friend by his hips. He didn't know what to do with his hands.

"Um," III grabbed his jaw and tilted so that Vessel was looking at him.

"You can put your hands back, if you want," III exhaled smoke right over Vessel's face. He coughed harder then.

"Hey!" He scolded. III smiled, took another hit and held it. He pushed down on the hinge of Vessel's jaw, forcing his mouth open. Then, III leaned in and blew the smoke right into Vessel's mouth. He felt it roll over his tongue and down his throat. He inhaled. It tickled bad, causing another cough.

"Uh uh, shh," III hushed him, this time pushing the joint into his mouth. It was slightly wet from III's mouth. "Wrap your lips around it. Inhale," III coached him. Vessel…listened. He inhaled, and it burned. "Aht! Don't cough. Hold it. Use those big singer lungs," Vessel tried, but only four heartbeats later he did cough, sending smoke right into III's face. III tsked.

"S-sorry,"

"Try again," Vessel thought he could already feel it. He felt fuzzy around the edges. A smile spread across his face. "Oh, there he is. Go on, try again. Hold it longer," Vessel tried. As he finished inhaling, III stole the joint right out of his mouth. "Hold it with me," III said and then he inhaled himself. Vessel could already feel the tickle, like he was going to cough again. III grinned. It was like it took no effort at all for III to keep the smoke in his lungs. III got closer, and Vessel felt his fingertips go staticky. All of his skin, really. His hands were back on III's hips, for whatever reason. Why he shouldn't do that felt pretty far away. III used two fingers to pull Vessel's mouth open. He exhaled smoke into Vessel's mouth as Vessel let the smoke in his own lungs pour into III's mouth. Miraculously, he didn't break into a coughing fit.

"I feel…weird," he didn't. Well, he did. But he was trying to cover up the fact that his dick was getting hard.

"It's called being high," III laughed. He then swung his leg up and away, narrowly missing Vessel's hardon. He sat back down next to Vessel. Vessel was breathing too hard, he had too much going on in his mind, and now his thighs were cold. Vessel rubbed his hands on them. "Oh," III said then. He sounded almost…disappointed. "Need help?"

"With wha'?" III rolled his eyes and got off the couch and onto his knees, shoving between Vessel's legs. "III, wha are you doing?" He couldn't make his tongue work to enunciate too well, but III looked up at him anyway. "We're friends. You can't," III rolled his eyes again.

"Who's gonna tell?" but III got up again, and then resettled back in Vessel's lap. "This better?" he ground down on Vessel's dick. Vessel couldn't stop himself from bucking up against III's pussy.

"Shit, III," he suddenly found this whole thing quite funny, and started laughing. III grinned then, and it looked almost dangerous. "I think I'm high,"

"You look high," III informed him. He rolled his hips down again. The way it felt was indescribable, other than so warm that Vessel wanted him to just keep doing exactly that.

"Do tha' again," Vessel asked, hands loose around III's hips. III reached down and thumbed the button on his jeans open. Vessel's cock was covered by soft gray boxers. III purposefully aimed his own hips so that he could rub his clit right over the swell of Vessel's dick. He did it once, twice, and again. Vessel moaned. He was pretty fucking lit, and III loved it. He loved that he had made Vessel take those hits, hold that smoke, get that high. He couldn't resist; he ground down right as he blew more smoke into Vessel's mouth. "F-fuck," Vessel stuttered. He felt bubbles in his blood. It was really good.

III couldn't help it. He didn't even realize he was doing it. II was above him, sitting at his desk, mixing one of their newest tracks. III was trying to be a good boy, trying to sit still on his pillow so that II would scratch his head. II was ignoring him. He could hear IV shrieking and moaning and whatever else Vessel was making him do across the house. It was making his cheeks turn red. He wanted to see. Wanted to know what Vessel was doing to drag those noises out of IV.

"Stop," II muttered, hand tangling in III's hair, right at the scalp. The threat of pain warmed his belly. He knew the redness on his face was spreading down his chest.

"Stop?"

"Your hips," II replied. III realized then. He had been slowly, slowly grinding against the big fluffy pillow. "Can't help yourself? Pup needs attention?"

"No, m'sorry, didn't mean to," III mumbled. He kept his eyes cast down. II sighed heavily and III knew he was in trouble. II shoved his desk chair back, releasing III's hair. He went and resituated so that he could look at III, elbows positioned on his knees as he leaned down.

"III,"

"I'm sorry," he repeated.

"Look at me," III looked up immediately. He hoped the obedience would cool II's temper, which he could feel sizzling. II's eyes were…warm. Nothing like his usual coldness. Nothing like the look that told III he was in trouble. "I know you can't help yourself, hearing how good IV feels right now. Vessel can be punished for this later,"

"So, I'm not in trouble?" II's eyes flashed. Fuck.

"Get on the bed, III," II nodded behind him, toward II's bed. It was huge. And one of III's favorite places. But III knew that tone, kind of. It was the voice that told III he was in trouble, but II's face was so much more open than his normal, grumpy, 'you're in trouble' face. III scrambled up, getting onto the bed. The duvet cover was cool silk, and III slid across it. II scooped up the pillow that III had been sitting on, and placed it on the bed. II opened the drawer of his nightstand. He pulled handcuffs out.

"Why?" III whined.

"III, you can't control yourself, so I will show you how,"

"I can too control myself," he sounded angrier than he meant to.

"Oh, puppy. All bark and no bite," II cooed at him. It sent heat spiraling through his gut, and anger through his mind. "Straddle the pillow," II nodded toward the pillow he had been sitting on. Anger gave way to mild wariness at II's tone. "The pillow, III," II had barely given him a moment to hesitate. III slowly positioned his legs on either side of the pillow. "Good boy," II commented as he got himself into position.

"Why the handcuffs?"

"I'll show you. Sit down. Get comfy," III listened. The friction of the pillow against his hard cock was something he struggled to ignore. II got behind him, grabbed both arms and positioned them against the base of his spine. II snapped the cuffs onto one wrist and then the second. His chest was forced up and out, proud. "Better?"

"No. I don't understand why I'm handcuffed,"

"You are handcuffed because you had trouble sitting still," II replied, his composure finally breaking. He smiled. It was a devious thing that sent shivers down III's spine. It told III that he was in for a night.

"I did not. I just didn't reali-" II grabbed his hair, fingers brushing right against his scalp, shutting him up.

"I am not going to touch you. You are not going to touch you," II intoned, his voice deeper than normal. "The pillow between your legs is the only thing you can use to get off. I am not releasing you until you cum,"

"What?!" III was surprised. Extremely surprised. II wasn't normally this cruel. II leaned in, readjusting his hold on III's hair so that he could tilt III's head to the side. II's soft breaths puffed against III's ear.

"Go on, honey. Filthy mutt like you must just be gagging for it," then, despite II's proclamation just seconds ago, both hands landed on III's hips. "Do you not know how? I'll show you," II forcibly moved III's hips, brushing the underside of his dick hard against the pillow. A startled gasp got out before III could lock it down. "Feel good?" the friction was…a lot. "Too much?" II spit in his own hand and shoved the spit slicked palm right down against III's cock. The heat and slick and warmth felt really good.

"Shit, II," III moaned. II ripped his hand back out, but the slick spit remained.

Chapter 1 - I Have A Feeling We're Close To The End

Thunder cracked across the sky, lightning stitching up the edges. A downpour worthy of any horror film raged. The windows rattled against the torrent. III and IV had finally settled. The dust had, too. All of that messy, horrible fallout. The world had learned of monsters, and they had finally escaped. A rickety, drafty cottage buried somewhere in the rolling hills of Wales had become their refuge. They had long lost their II…lost him to The Vessel. They would have to live with it. They had been for years now. II had…changed his mind, supposedly. Decided salt water was drinkable, that he could swim with sharks.

The last III had seen him, he had not succumbed to the change. Not by looks, and he was out too early for one of The Vessel's minions. III had hoped he could be saved. IV had insisted that they, the creatures, The Vessel's animalic minions, were evolving. II was not to be trusted. It was time to leave London. IV had insisted, thinking this was the best way to protect them both. He knew that III had been something akin to being involved with II. Had loved him, in a way. Though IV was not quite sure what way that was. He may have seen III steal a kiss. It was not IV's business. III had more romantic notions of the world. Notions IV had sworn off. IV had sworn off love the very same day he had learned of The Vessel's existence. This world was not one for love. This was the world Mary Shelley and Bram Stoker had dreamed up, kind of, and IV would fight it. Fight for humanity. It was already lost, he knew. He couldn’t put the anger down, couldn't let go of a desire to help. His anger kept him warm.

III appeared, threadbare shawl wrapped tightly around him. A shawl II had made. Something IV had never felt emboldened enough to rip out, throw away. Pain III wore around himself. III wore his heart on his sleeve. His entire history on his body. His largest scar, cruelly shaped by The Vessel's own hand into a question mark, caught the dim lamp light. To taunt IV. The one he couldn't kill. The one that had escaped his every trap, every plan. The Vessel.

“The door,” III whispered. His voice had not come above a whisper since II's departure. Years, now. Two, or three. IV could not properly recall. II's departure had created wounds that would not heal. In III, it manifested in a voice like a ghost, and a loss so gargantuan he could not exist outside of it, nor beside it. IV had felt the same loss once. He would not let III succumb to the madness that followed. The door?

“No one knows where we are,” was IV's reply, as threadbare as III's shawl. He was sure The Vessel knew. It stalked him as well as he stalked it.

“Someone is at the door,” III spoke. His voice cracked. Tears filled his eyes. “II,” he continued.

“II is dead,” IV insisted. Undead, really.

“And yet he is on our doorstep,” III cared too deeply. He looked to IV, eyes begging for…something. “How did he find us?” IV sighed. It was a heavy, weary thing. Like bricks falling through a decaying chimney, cracking a dried out clay floor. He did not answer. III's face twisted in pain. “Send him away,” III fled. IV could taste his tears on the air. He knew III wasn't mistaken. II was outside their door. IV carefully approached the front door. One knock, heavy and harsh, sounded as he approached.

“III, please! Open the door!” II's voice, unmistakable, endearing, terrifying, howled outside the door.

“Leave, animal,” IV summoned all of his strength, anger and grit to banish II. It was horrible to hear his sweet, anguished voice after all this time.

“IV,” the voice changed. Straightened, stood upright, lilted differently. It was still II, but…not really. “He's been waiting for you,”

“No. Leave. Dissipate. I will not entertain your ilk, not in this place. Go. Away with you, you beast. Do not come here again,”

“I can smell my shawl wrapped around your precious III. He was mine first. I loved him. I made him feel wanted, safe, filled, whole. You can't. I will have him again,” the last sentence was a snarl, echoing unnaturally through the thick wood.

“Have you won? Have you found what you sought in that eternal night?” IV asked, acid dripping from each word. He shouldn't have asked, but the poisoned words left his tongue before he could force himself to stop. “Leave. You are not welcome here, not on any land that is mine,” an inhuman snarl, one that confirmed II’s transformation in IV’s mind, rang through the door. IV pressed his hands to freshly carved wood, collecting splinters, pushing symbols in an order that he had learned would repel The Vessel and its minions. II was one. He was a minion and IV had to accept that. He had. III had to accept it as well, and IV knew he had not. A mournful howling pierced his skull as II was forced back by the magic IV worked. IV could feel II fighting the repellent. II screamed, raging as loud as the storm. It was stronger than any voice he had heard from any minion before. IV almost faltered, hearing someone he has once fought to protect suffering at his hand. He was so strong, frighteningly so. Just what was II now?

IV fled to the library to figure that out. The library had always been his safe haven. The place where he had learned to pull magic from the air, the place where he had learned how to protect those who needed it from things like The Vessel. The air was somehow already dusty. He ran a tired hand along his protective carvings. Amongst the smattering of ruins, IV found the clumsy heart that III had carved earlier in the day on the doorjamb. It had been a question. Home? III's eyes had asked. IV hadn't had an answer. He did now. No place was safe. II was here, knew they were here, knew III was the way in. How was he to ever escape The Vessel? Would his tomes hold the answers? So many books were so well worn from his searching, they were held together by leather patches and adhesive. He knew them forward and back. Spines would disintegrate in his sweaty palms before turning up something new. He scanned the shelves. Years of knowledge, bought, bartered for, and stolen. A darker book, shoved into a corner, called to him. He knew he would have to open it. Knew it wasn't truly his. One of the stolen tomes, one he should have left behind. He reached up, but dark energy pushed his inquisitive hand back. A spell surrounded the book. Symbols. He'd have to paint them on his skin in blood to break the spell. Was there even time? He scraped his jagged fingernails through his overgrown hair. He was lost. He knew it. III knew it, even if he didn't know why. He turned to the rest of the shelves, hoping the answer was hidden among the words.

The fight was still running in his veins. Ivy was so…confused about everything. He didn’t think there was a way for III to have these competing desires all at once. If III were being honest, and he wanted II, and he wanted Ivy with II, then there was no way he wanted Ivy alone. There was no way he could be satisfied with just Ivy anymore. He was spiraling. He was desperate to have some sort of proof that III still wanted him. He couldn't believe that III wanted to see him and II together. He couldn't reconcile that III wanted that and wanted him. Stupidly, he had allowed the conversation to veer. He knew why, but he didn’t want to admit it. He had pushed it toward sex anyway. It was easier. It was proof that III still desired him. It was something to get lost in. He turned to III.

“Show me,” 

“Show you?” III was always asking questions. He didn’t have it in him to say “show me that you still want me”. All he could say was, 

“Now,” 

III stepped forward, one hand sliding around his hip. III tugged him into his body. Against him. 

“I want to show you,” III began, but he kissed Ivy before continuing. A long, slow, lingering kiss that had Ivy’s dick hardening. “I want to show you just how good you look, split open on my dick. We’ve got all these mirrors…shame to let them go to waste,” III spoke against Ivy’s mouth, driving him crazy. He could taste the desire in III’s words. But then he processed the words. 

“N-no,” he stuttered out. “Don’t wanna watch,” III’s eyebrow raised. His eyes hardened, narrowed. He went from sweet, wide eyed, gorgeous to almost annoyed, dangerous looking, ready to pounce. 

“Well, I do,” and then III’s tongue was in his mouth. Making it hard to think. Making it hard to remember that he wanted to protest. III’s tongue slid against his, making both of them moan. III slid one hand down his body, grabbing a whole handful of his ass and growling. “This…is perfect,” he said on breaking the kiss. Ivy just kind of…whimpered. He was more used to the III that he made cum in his pants. This III was a welcome surprise.  He had seen this III once before, when he’d sucked him off and then basically demanded dinner. Now, III kicked his leg out gently. Ivy went down without a fight, to his knees. “You look good down there,” this fired him back up. He knocked III’s knee out too, bringing him down with him. 

“You look good down here,” 

“I’m gonna put those boxing lessons to good use,” 

“Lesson,” Ivy corrected. “You only had one lesson,” III rolled his eyes. And he moved. Surprise more than anything allowed him to snatch Ivy around the waist and flip him. An embarrassing yelp flew out of him when he landed on his chest. “Shit, III,” 

“Shh,” III shushed him, pressing on his upper spine so that he stayed down. One of his hands slid into Ivy’s hair, pulling his head back gently. Ivy focused on the scene in the mirror. III was stretched out, pressed over him, looking at Ivy in the mirror. His eyes were completely dark, and he was breathing hard. As soon as he met III’s eyes, III whispered to him. “You still want this?” 

“Y-yeah. Do you?” III asking made him wonder if III was having second thoughts. 

“Of course,” III bit his earlobe and tugged, growling playfully. “I’ll always want you,” III followed this up by pressing his hips against Ivy’s ass. III was so hard, it must have hurt. He could feel it through his own sweats and III’s sweats. He got harder in response, and that was when he knew he was fucked. 

“Shit…I-I,” he found himself arching and pushing back into III. III sat back, hooked long, clever fingers into his waistband and bared Ivy’s ass to the room. III pulled his asscheeks apart. It felt…obscene. 

“Mmm…pretty,” then, III held Ivy’s eye until he sunk below his shoulder line. It became really obvious what he was going to do when Ivy felt warm puffs of air on his asshole. III’s tongue touched it. It was warm, wet, strange… Ivy liked it immediately. “I want to eat II’s cum out of here,” III then informed him. That almost broke his brain. Then III laved his entire tongue across his asshole and he moaned. Full throated, unabashed, he moaned and pushed his hips back against III’s face. His brain was definitely broken. III’s tongue worked its way inside of him, and he swore. “Acting like you’ve never had your ass eaten, peaches,” 

“H-haven’t,” he admitted. He was embarrassed by just how much he was enjoying it. III pulled back and met his eyes then. 

“Never?” III wiped drool off of his face. Drool from…yeah. Okay. He liked this way more than he thought he would. But he was embarrassed that he’d just admitted that. He was a red mess, when he accidentally glanced at himself. He shook his head. 

“No,” III flashed his grin for just a second before diving right back in. The slight stretch from his tongue, the moisture, the strangeness of the whole thing… it all felt really good. Ivy wasn’t thinking much. He was just feeling. III’s hands were anchored around his ass, basically holding him up. “F-fuck,” III made some sort of slurping noise before pulling back again.

“Yeah, I definitely want to eat II’s cum out of your pretty ass. Can’t believe no one’s done that for you. You deserve it,” 

“Shit, you’re so hot,” he couldn’t help himself. He just had to say it. Because III is so fucking hot. 

“Hot enough to fuck you?” his first response was pushing his hips into III’s crotch. 

“Now,” he demanded. He met III’s gaze when he said it, too. III moved, ripping his own pants down. III then spit on his asshole. He short circuited at the feeling. It felt filthy, and oh, so good. III’s fingers felt even better as they worked him open as quickly as possible. He had to spit again, and Ivy’s eyes rolled up in his skull. 

“Ready?” III panted out. He nodded so aggressively he thought his head might bobble off. III shuffled forward, lining himself up. Ivy couldn’t see much other than the look on III’s face. His face was a little bit scrunched in concentration, and it almost made him melt all over again. The warm, blunt head of III’s dick pushed against his asshole and he inhaled silently. He knew it was going to hurt, somewhat. He knew III was big, he knew III was more than the toys he’d taken before. He was ready. He exhaled as III pushed inside of him. The burn wasn’t excruciating, but it was going to take a minute to adjust. 

“Ah, ah,” he didn’t even realize he was making noises until III responded. 

“Yeah,” III reached up, pulling Ivy’s hair again. Gently tugging his head backwards. “Look at you. Look at this. Look at us,” Ivy looked at III first. He looked really good, stretched out over Ivy. Then, he did look at himself. He didn’t recognize himself. His hair was a mess, especially with III’s hand buried in it. His cheeks were flushed. His ass was arched into III at an angle he didn’t even know he was truly capable of. He looked fucked out, blissed out, a lazy smile spread over his face as he breathed through taking III into his body. His head was spinning. He looked…kind of…hot? At least with III wrapped around him. “You like what you see,” it wasn’t a question. III had probably felt him tense up when he’d seen the picture in the mirror. III was getting a slide going, but he had to add more spit. Ivy really did wish they’d grabbed the lube, but there would be more of this later… he had decided. 

“I wanna…I wanna do this forever,” 

“Oh, pretty boy’s brains scrambled over my cock?” III cooed. That made him tense up, hard. III kept calling him pretty, and making him feel good, and it was so not how he expected to feel when he heard that, but oh it was working for him. But, then he realized what III said. 

“N-no. I mean it,” III found his prostate then, sending bubbles through his blood. 

“Is that the spot?” III’s grin was almost evil. He looked so gorgeous. “Yeah, it is,” III angled his hips and drove Ivy out of his mind. He was cursing and almost crying from how good it felt, and he was cumming before he realized what was happening. III braced himself against his ass, and chased his own orgasm. Heat flooded his ass. 

They were panting, now separated, looking at one another. 

“I gotta clean this up,” he gestured to his own mess on the floor. 

“Can I come home with you?” III replied. 

“Of course,” he replied, another answer never crossing his mind. “Always,” he added, without a thought. 

“Y’mean it?” III asked, echoing him when III had first asked him out. His brow furrowed when he realized he did, but only for a second.