Ohfuckohfuckoh -- fuck. Yes, it was. "Um --" Elijah ran damp palms along his jeans, and glanced around for the nearest exit. He emphatically did not look into Karl's eyes. He'd freeze like a basalisk or whatever they were. "C'mon." Karl tugged Elijah by the wrist, closing warm fingers over clammy skin. Elijah stumbled, glanced helplessly back at Dom, who was still paying no attention. Fucker. Dom had promised, man. Elijah watched from under lowered lashes as Karl stopped in front of Orlando and whispered a few short words in his ear. Orlando smiled, gaze flickering briefly to Elijah before returning to Karl. Their foreheads rested together, and Elijah tried not to pay attention to how beautiful they looked, how dark and dangerous and right. Tried to slow the hammering in his chest, the shallowness of his every breath. Fuck. Should've run for the door. Should've sat down next to Viggo and Bean and horned in on their conversation. Hell, he should've slithered between Miranda and Liv and thrown himself at their tender mercies. Anything but this. Anything but the too warm feel of Karl's fingers rubbing along his wrist, of amused hazel eyes sizing him up, finding him wanting. Always finding him wanting until the only option had been self-preservation in the form of Dom. Orlando smiled again, and Elijah could've sworn he saw Karl and Orlando's fingers glance over each other in muted promise before they went their separate ways -- Orlando to the ladies' table, Karl to the dance floor. Elijah had no choice but to follow blindly along and wonder what the hell he'd gotten himself into. He should've said no. Not that saying no to Karl was something anyone got away with -- and Elijah knew that better than most. Onto Payback
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