Bean shakes his head and shrugs, full glass of beer sloshing a bit on dirt brown carpet. "Think he went that way. Why?" Billy tosses back the last of his beer, a small malty swallow vanishing past cupid's bow lips. "Daft sod's got my keys," he offers by way of explanation. "Oh, well," Sean says, struggling to sit up, his face entirely serious, "we'd better go find him, then." He levers himself up off the couch with some difficulty and stands with the concentrated effort of the truly drunk. "Any idea where they went off to?" Billy starts off down the hallway, wondering if he should just start knocking on random doors. "He mentioned something about a cigarette." "Figures." Billy makes an abrupt u-turn toward the back porch, and Bean almost collides with him. A mumbled half-coherent apology later, they're on the porch, where Elijah patently...isn't. Billy frowns and mentally kicks himself for giving Elijah his keys. It had seemed like a good idea, earlier, when Elijah was volunteering to go get Chinese food for everyone. Now, though, Billy's tired, and he wants to go home. He wants most anything besides being stuck here with a plastered Bean following him around helpfully. "Let's go back inside," he says with a sigh, and Sean hastens to comply -- "Right, must be sacked out, then" -- making Billy long even more for the pleasures of his bed. The ones that entail sleep. They've just turned around when Bean stops and cocks his head. "Hey, you hear that?" "Hear what?" Billy listened for...well, he wasn't exactly sure what he was listening for. "That." Billy strains his ears...and smiles. Unmistakably -- Elijah's voice. Just beyond the bushes. "You're a star, Bean," he grins. He can practically taste his bed. Billy walks towards the sound, Bean following silently at his heels. Some unspoken instinct hushes them both, sealing lips and muffling steps. A large clump of firethorn is off to the left, just on the periphery of the reach of the porch light, and Billy thinks the sound is coming from behind there. When he's almost on top of it, he squats quickly behind a pine, pulling Bean down after him. A break in the bushes, visible from crouching level, reveals a sight that stops the breath in Billy's throat; his fingers clutch at Sean's arm involuntarily, digging half-moons in shock. "Whoa." Sean's low murmur is appreciative. Yeah, whoa, indeed. Billy had no idea that Elijah was that...well...um. The leather straps around Elijah's wrists are sturdy, functional. Harry has one hand wrapped around the loop, pulling Elijah's lithe, nude body to him with every smooth thrust...Elijah's head is thrown back, pale throat gleaming in the moonlight, cries erupting from his perfect mouth each time Harry slams forward, yanks on the strap. His legs are wrapped tightly around Harry's waist, heels digging into Harry's bare, muscled back. It's at once obscene and beautiful. But nothing compared to the shock when Harry leans back and casually backhands Elijah, large hand leaving a red welt across a gleaming cheek. Billy lunges forward without thinking, all his big-brother thoughts towards Elijah coalescing in a moment of indignant protectiveness. Sean's hand clamps down on his shoulder and draws him firmly back. Billy throws a glance over his shoulder at Sean, who now looks entirely sober, focused on the tableau at hand as he shakes his head sharply, warning Billy off. When Billy turns back he sees the look of glazed pleasure suffusing Elijah's face. He likes it, Billy thinks stupidly, ashes drying in his mouth as Elijah whimpers and Harry's hand falls again. "So pretty," Harry says, voice reverent as he delivers another well-timed blow, slams forward at the same instant. "Harry..." Elijah's moan is breathless, reedy, back bowing up, head thrashing. Beautiful, Billy thinks again. Hates himself for thinking it. This isn't beautiful. It's sick. Degrading. Perverted. Wrong. "Hot as fuck, aren't they?" Sean whispers, interrupting Billy's thoughts. Sean's breath ghosts hot across Billy's ear, tightening the space between his cock and his jeans. He frowns, and now it's his turn to shake his head at Sean. "He's hurting him," Billy hisses, but the words sound ridiculous even to his own ears. "He's enjoying it." Sean's lips trail along Billy's neck, leaving tiny goosebumps. "He enjoys giving Harry control." Billy shivers. Sean's breath and lips on his skin is not what he expected, and this -- oh yes, the strangled beauty-pain of Harry pounding Elijah into the grass -- well, that's the very definition of unexpected. But Sean's pressing against him now from behind, and Billy can feel him, hard and ready, and suddenly thought seems very overrated. Harry drives forward ruthlessly, and Elijah whimpers just as Sean's fingers find their way around to cup Billy and oh. God. Billy presses back, eyes glittering, fixed on Harry and Elijah. Needs. "Just watch," Sean whispers, licking along his earlobe, and then nimble fingers tug, pull at Billy's zipper...his breath hisses, catches, as Sean closes warm fingers around him, stroking in time with Harry's blinding thrusts, Elijah's whimpermoans. And yes...beautiful. Terrifyingly beautiful to watch Elijah fly apart, shudder and twist on Harry's cock, head snapping back with the force of Harry's hand on his cheek. The dull slap of flesh on flesh contrasts with the sharp sound of Harry's hand...and Billy bites his lip, tries to focus as Sean changes angle, rubs against him, thumb flicking over the head of his cock. Billy obeys Sean, watching the lurid tableau, but it's not like he has any choice in the matter -- even if Sean hadn't told him to watch, Billy doesn't think he could tear his eyes away. Sean's thick fingers enfold him, twisting down as Elijah bucks up, only partly of his own accord. Harry's sharp yank on the belt digs reddening welts into fragile skin, and Billy feels his orgasm shuddering into being just as Elijah screams. Harry smothers the cry with a savage kiss, and Billy simply sags against Sean's chest, feeling like he's just battled a really harsh wave. Battered and abused and sated beyond all belief. He wonders if this is what Harry gives Elijah in the dim part of his brain that's actually working. Sean lifts his hand to Billy's parted lips, and Billy takes the invitation, sucks Sean's hands clean -- tastes his bitter come mixed with sweat and the taste of Sean. It's a surprisingly erotic combination. A warm wetness is soaking through the back of his shirt, and Billy realizes somewhat belatedly what Sean was doing with his other hand. Well, of course, it makes sense, but at the time, he hadn't noticed. Billy watches Harry slide from Elijah's body with a soft wet sound and feels disgusted with himself. This is just wrong, he thinks, the pain and the watching and fuck damn hell but he enjoyed it -- enjoyed watching Elijah whimper and bruise and writhe, and another realization hits Billy with the force of a freight train. He knows, then, watching the feverish lust still shimmering in Elijah's eyes, that he wants Elijah underneath him. Wants to take and crush and rend him the same way you sometimes get the urge to crush an impossibly beautiful flower. And he hates himself for it. "Think we'll be missed?" Elijah asks, stretching lazily on the grass, blithely unconcerned with his bruises, his naked state. "Do you care?" Harry replies, untying the belt with a swift twist of his fingers. "Not at all." And Elijah lifts himself up, bites down hard on Harry's lip when he kisses him...Billy can see tiny droplets of blood being lapped up by Elijah's pink tongue. Harry's hands are hard, heavy when he jerks Elijah to him, and Billy thinks make-up is truly going to kill Elijah tomorrow. "Come on, then," Sean whispers in Billy's ear, and that brings reality rushing back. Getting caught -- no, not an option. There's months to go yet, and Billy isn't sure how he's going to look Elijah in the face as it is. He swiftly tucks and zips, feeling far more sober than he would have thought possible fifteen minutes ago, and creeps after Sean's retreating form. "So...um..." Billy's not quite sure why he's opened his mouth, what he even wants to say. But the silence is killing him, and hey, Sean did just have Billy's dick in his hand. The least he can do is talk to the guy for a bit. Male afterplay. "So." With a neat move, Sean twists Billy, pinning him to the side of the house with his chest, hands on either side of his head, grinning down at him with an unholy smile. "Interested in broadening your horizons a little more?" Sean doesn't wait for a reply, instead diving in and kissing Billy, hot and urgent, and not at all like he'd just come. He's rough, and Billy wonders if that's how Sean normally kisses, or if what they just saw is affecting Sean the same way it's running underneath Billy's skin, hot and itchy. Then Sean grinds his hips forward with a rough painful press of denim just as his teeth draw blood, and Billy stops thinking. He kisses him back. It isn't precisely the point on the horizon Billy's aching for, but it's coppery sweet. Close enough.
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