My fanfiction interpretation of the Sleep Token lore
The Teaching Files
Explicit series where each member of Sleep Token 'teaches' you something. Sexual. Absolutely NO minors. None of these are meant to serve as actual teachings/manuals/anything like that. Do not practice what you read in here.
The Butcher and The Shadow
III and IV don halloween costumes and find themselves a victim. Slasher!III and Stalker!IV
I dunno?? Look the voices won on this one. I have no clue.
these are my original notes for this prompt: "III rolling/smoking forcing Vessel to take hits leaning up and over him on the couch n shotgunning him intox sex yayayayayya" so. do with that what you will.
anyway.
on ao3.
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.
"Oh, look at that," III tutted. "You made a mess," his dick was sticky. He had come and hadn't even realized it. III laughed. "Guess I have to clean you up," and III sunk back to the ground.
Vessel finished the summoning circle. He chanted the final words and awaited the demon's appearance. After a few minutes, he began to worry. Nothing was happening, except for he was starting to sweat. He could feel his body temperature rising, his blood pressure even. A dull hum rising in the back of his head.
You summon me? A voice sounded in Vessel's mind. Vessel shot straight up from his slightly hunched and defeated position.
"Yes! Yes. I summoned you. Th..thank you for coming,"
"I have not come yet," it said, this time aloud. In his room. In the summoning circle. It was a seething mass of tentacles. It was beyond Vessel's comprehension. It was…hot. Vessel wanted it, badly. Suddenly. It rose up on him like a tide, bursting out of the summoning circle and wrapping around him. "You will do nicely,"
"This is the ritual to get me fame, power, influence, right?" he tried to remember his goal, around the increasing hum in the back of his head.
"Oh, you are youthful. Sure. This will give you that. But you must give me your body,"
"You can have it. You can have whatever you want," Vessel breathed out. Sleep lunged. Vessel's center of gravity wheeled, and he was in the air. Sleep's tentacles wrapped all over him. They were cool, soothing in a way, and not wet like he expected. Vessel yelped as Sleep put him in whatever position it wanted.
"Are you ready?" It purred in his ear, long tongue sliding up Vessel's neck, wrapping all the way around and squeezing lightly. The pressure made Vessel's eyes roll back just slightly. "Oh, you like this?"
"I don't k-know," he stuttered.
"You will," Sleep immediately divested Vessel of his clothes. The soft pants he had chosen (hoping they would please Sleep) pooled on the floor, far from young man and his god.
"W-wait!" Vessel cried. Sleep did not wait. Long tentacles slid all the way up Vessel's legs. They wrapped around his thighs, sliding right up against his crotch. The delicate hairs of his thighs caught on the texture of the tentacles. The stinging sent pops of sensation rocketing up his body. He wasn't sure if the sensations were even good. It was just so much. The tongue that had been wrapped around his throat came back, this time poking against Vessel's lips.
"Shh," Sleep hushed him. The tongue continued digging at his mouth, demanding entry. He didn't want to give it. But then a tentacle slid right under his balls, tapping at his perinium. The shock had him gasping and the tongue thrust right inside, jamming itself straight to the back of his mouth. He gagged hard. Drool flooded his mouth, sliding out from around the tongue. Sleep purred, sending vibrations through all of Vessel. He was swallowing automatically around Sleep's tongue. He couldn't move.
It made him realize that he couldn't escape. He couldn't move. He was at Sleep's mercy.
A strange taste flooded his mouth. It was something Sleep was…secreting. On its tongue. Into Vessel. And it was making Vessel warm. That hum was getting louder. Vessel kept swallowing against its tongue. Swallowing its spit. Swallowing whatever was in its spit. His body temperature rose rapidly. He didn't know when he had even gotten hard, but Vessel was fit to burst.
"Perfect," Sleep intoned, the deep rumble of its voice vibrating Vessel’s bones. One of its tentacles slid right up against his ass. He clenched up, trying to keep it out. He couldn't. Sleep wormed its way inside. It laughed at his effort. It began to fuck him. Slowly. He wasn't even sure why it wasn't burning. It was as though that tentacle was covered in spit too. The slide and the hitch went from intrusive to…good. It rubbed at Vessel's prostate. Hard, sparking with pain almost. It pushed and rubbed and made Vessel flush even hotter. "Come for me, I need you to," another tentacle did wrap around his cock then, encasing it. It was cold enough that his erection flagged. but the prostate stimulation hit just right at the same moment. An orgasm swept through him, blanking out all thought. His dick drooled messily in Sleep's grasp. He felt himself go completely slack in Sleep's…arms? "Mmm, just what I needed from you, my little Vessel,"
"F-for what?" Vessel was coming back around. He felt..odd. Loose. His limbs were heavy, even. His body wouldn't get with the program so he could wiggle out of Sleep's embrace.
"Me," something wider pressed at his asshole. "You are my Vessel, are you not?" it hit him then. Eggs. Vessel.
"I…n-no… this isn't part of the deal," Sleep laughed. A cruel laugh.
"No? Then why can't you fight back?" it was right. He couldn't. He couldn't move a muscle. The…egg… pushed against his asshole. He couldn't even clench up, couldn't try to keep it out. The egg pushed harder, and his body yielded. It caught on the rim of his asshole, the flare and push of pain dissolved as it shot into his body. The speed of it felt so fucking good. It was relief, reward, delight. It had his cock stirring again.
"Shit," he moaned. The egg settled. A tentacle brushed against his belly, brushed against the hardness of the egg within him. "Oh, fuck," it felt amazing. Another one was right behind the first, pushing on his asshole again. The same shock of pain followed by the reward of it settling next to the first one. His mind went slightly fuzzy. His dick was hard again, fully, even though he had cum just moments ago. Sleep hummed, pleased. Another egg. This one shot into the other two, and he watched his own body bulge out in three distinct shapes. He couldn't think. He couldn't talk. Pleasure fizzled through him. Another. He couldn't remember why he was even here. He couldn't remember much. It was…so…so fucking good. His mind whited out, he came again.
By the time Sleep was done, Vessel didn't know who he was. His belly bulged out, so many eggs he had lost count. He moaned again, another egg sliding inside of him. He came. Holy fuck.
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.
"Go on," II smirked, sitting back on the bed. Palming his own cock through his boxers. "Give me a show, honey,"
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.
"I know what you need," IV nearly growled. "VESSEL!"
am I still supposed to warn you guys about stuff? well, anyway. probably don't open this in public
also, YES it is dialogue heavy. no I do not care. worth it.
His cock slid wetly in his hand, probably too much lube guiding his hand. He jerked himself hard, pushing and pulling and teasing until he was right on the edge before stopping. He bit down on his own whine. He had almost spent the night with II, but then II had fallen asleep on the couch after housing a burrito the size of his head. So Ivy had gone to bed alone, and had woken up hard as stone. Without even thinking, he had reached for the lube in the nightstand. He had been edging himself for almost ten minutes. He knew it would be so sweet when he finally gave in. His free hand digging sharply into his thigh, he twisted his hand on the upswing and came before he really wanted to. It was just...whoops...the exactly perfect friction to send him over the edge. Even though he had meant to keep going, satisfaction glowed warm in his belly.
Ivy felt like his dick hadn't gone down since he had ridden II to orgasm. He wasn't sure why, but he was the horniest guy alive as of late. III had been loving it. They had spent every night together until now, when III was off gallivanting in the countryside with Vessel, doing fuck knows what for some sort of model opportunity. Ivy laid still, panting after his late morning orgasm. He could hear II downstairs. He twisted, slightly, meaning to find a towel. Felt the ache in his back. Found a towel hung on the headboard. Swiped his release away, scrubbing at the bits tangled in his happy trail. He sat up once he was clean and decided to shower before disturbing II.
He dried his hair and snagged some soft shorts and put them on as he made his way to the kitchen. He was thinking about an iced latte. He found an open redbull sitting on his counter. He could hear II mumbling in the next room, probably wondering where his redbull had gone. Ivy started his espresso machine. That pulled II into the kitchen.
“Oh hey there's my redbull,” II mumbled, rubbing one eye and stretching. Ivy leaned on his counter and smiled. II turned shy.
“Did you sleep well?” He asked, trying to be smooth. II nodded, smiling but not making eye contact.
“‘M sorry I fell asleep,” II replied. Ivy smiled and shook his head, trying to say ‘no apology needed’ without actually saying it.
“Are you gonna shave?” He asked on noticing II's facial hair had gone a little scraggly. II noisily slurped redbull before shaking his head and smiling. It was a mischievous smile, the one he normally got right before verbally sparring with III. How was he ever going to get his boyfriends to get along?
“Nah. I'm gonna show III what a real mustache is,” Ivy threw his head back and cackled at that. His espresso finished and he made the latte. “What?” Ivy shook his head, still laughing.
“You and III are gonna end up in a fight for real,”
“So? You'd like that,” II also laughed. They both settled on the living room couch. He just got his phone out when III text, telling him the photoshoot thingy went well. Ivy wasn't completely sure what he was up to, but he had seemed excited.
“Photoshoot?” II read the text. “Vessel said the same thing. Maybe they're together,”
“They are, did Vessel not tell you?” II shook his head no. Ivy bit his lip, meeting II's gaze. He wasn’t sure about saying this but… He thought III wanted Vessel. He knew, based on their first night together, that Vessel wanted III. “I think Vessel wants III,” II choked on his redbull. He coughed and cleared his throat. II was laughing through his cough. At least Ivy hadn’t angered him. Though another fight isn’t something he’d walk away from, necessarily.
“What do you mean think? Did you see the way they were when we were all together?” II laughed. “I mean, III practically jumped into his lap, and he practically ripped III’s pants off. I think it's obvious that Vessel wants to get into III's bed,”
“No.. no, I think he wants them to date. Like we do,” Ivy finished his latte. II looked over at him, blue eyes wide. Understanding dawned on II's sweet face.
“Wait. Shit. I think you're right. Does III want him back?”
“III won't talk to me about it,” Ivy pouted. He truly didn't know. III dodged his every question about it. Just said Vessel and him had agreed, always stressed the agreed, to not ruin their friendship. “Do you think our friendship was ruined by this?”
“Not in the slightest. I think Vessel and III are kind of ridiculous for thinking that, actually,” II's phone went off. Probably Vessel. “I should talk to him about it. It's painfully obvious now that you've pointed it out. How did I not see it?”
“Do you think that we should let them figure it out on their own? It seems like there’s a few issues between them. I wouldn’t want to exacerbate it,”
“Well, I do want to exacerbate it. I will hit them over the head with this,”
“I just think it’s possibly…not our business?” Ivy questioned. He could see that II had made his mind up though.
“It might not be. But I want lots more of those nights together, and I think it’ll go better if they just kiss about it or something,”
III picked his jaw up off the ground. Vessel was standing in front of him, hands clasped behind his back. In a jockstrap. He looked nervous and shy with bright red cheekbones. III wanted to kiss those cheekbones. What? III swallowed hard, trying to clear the dryness in his throat.
“Holy shit, Vessel,”
“Thank fuck they made you wear one too,” Vessel broke into a nervous smile, shuffling from side to side.
“You look stunning,” III couldn’t help himself. He walked toward Vessel, almost grabbed him. He stopped himself with a weird aborted jerking motion.
“You okay?” Vessel asked, eyes following his hands, which he now tucked behind his own back. He nodded.
“Let’s finish up,” the producer interrupted. III nearly jumped backwards. “Okay, on that background,” she gestured. “Okay and. Yeah. Perfect. Now, this is for pride, so act like a happy couple,” Vessel’s eyes went comically wide at that.
“A couple? Yeah, sure, okay,” III agreed, smiling at Vessel and grabbing his hip, tugging him close. He found it too easy to act like he was with Vessel, instead of just being near him. He remembered everything from that night at Ivy’s house.
“You like this as much as I do,” Vessel sighed and pulled his hair back to the side and kissed up his neck.
Vessel shifted, accidentally grinding their dicks together. It wasn’t the best, because they were both soft, but III had to stop himself from chasing it anyway. III was now battling back a hard on, and he almost moaned. Vessel was so close, III watched his pupils dilate at the contact. Vessel’s eyes danced from his lips back up to his eyes, as he readjusted his hold on III. When III held eye contact, Vessel turned bright red again and looked away.
“No, no, look back at him. That was perfect, especially with that blush,” the producer again. Vessel looked back at him. It was so easy to hold him like this. Vessel’s relaxed abs pressed into his belly, and it felt like something close to heaven. “We know you're each dating other people, but this is acting, so unless you absolutely refuse, now you should kiss,” the producer had given them an out. III wasn't going to let Vessel take it. Before III could lunge, his senses were overwhelmed by Vessel. Vessel's mouth was on his. His eyes fluttered open for a second, on accident sort of, but he had to make sure it was real. Vessel's eyes were shut, long dusky red lashes touching the tops of his soft cheekbones. III slammed his own eyes shut as the camera shuttered. Vessel's sweet, laundry and coffee smell swirled around him. His lips were slightly dry, soft, warm, perfect. III ran a hand up Vessel's body, cupping his neck and pulling him closer. His whole body. Those tiny gold bars rubbing against his chest sent shocks up III's spine. It felt good. The slight drag and almost scrape of them. Vessel exhaled, almost a gasp. III swallowed it.
“Okay, perfect, we've got it!” The producer announced. They nearly sprung apart. Vessel was redder than ever.
“C-can I take this off now?” He asked the producer. Before she could really say yes, Vessel was practically running toward the changing stalls. III followed. Vessel sounded so nervous and shy (and cute, but III was not going to think about that. They were not into each other like that. Vessel had been VERY clear about that) that III had to make sure he was okay.
“Vessel,” III started, outside of the small stall Vessel had hid in.
“We're not talking about it, III. It was just for the ad. That you signed us up for!”
“Fine,” III muttered. He felt…rejected. But, no. He wasn’t the one sprinting away like his ass was on fire anyway. He wasn't the one gasping into someone else's mouth. He wasn't the one who had even started the kiss! If Vessel didn't want to deal with it, they wouldn't. That was just fine with III.
I, Carrion - A Sleep Token Vampire Alternate Universe
AO3
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.
IV's brush against that spell, placed an age ago, summoned something. It materialized in the woods. Something that knew IV better than he wanted. Something that IV had fled London to escape. Something that IV would never escape. A smile of knives took shape against the window. Six white eyes glowed, piercing through the rain smeared glass.
III's breath puffed warmly over Ivy's asshole. His sore, abused, stuffed asshole, just starting to drip II's cum. II. The thought alone had Ivy's eyes rolling back in his skull. II had fucked him. Ivy had ridden II until II came. He had gotten to sit down on his best friend's dick and make him cum. He knew that earlier, he had sighed II's name, and III had cum as a result. Now… II buried his hand in III's hair, forcing III's face into his asshole. III moaned like he had never tasted anything so good before. Ivy heard Vessel ask “Will you lick my cum out of II's mouth, next?”
Ivy imagined it. He wanted to see Vessel fuck III's skull until III cried. III seemed to want it, aggressively licking and sucking until Ivy thought he might cum from III's tongue. One big hand wrapped around his ass cheek, III hummed so the vibrations shook his hips. Ivy wanted to ride, he hadn't gotten enough of it from II. He moved, grinding against III's mouth. He risked a glance down, saw III's eyes roll back as he settled against the mattress. The eye contact was killer.
Something sweeter than desire curled up at the base of his skull. Vessel's face appeared over his own.
“What do you want him to do to you next?”
“I…I don't…oh,” Ivy dissolved into a breathless moaning puddle when III worked a finger inside of him. Vessel clicked his tongue at him, gentle but condescending.
“Kiss him,” II commanded. Vessel whipped his head back toward II. “Kiss him,” Ivy could hear the challenge in II's voice, like he was daring Vessel to disobey him. Vessel turned back to him.
“Can I kiss you?” Vessel asked. III chose that moment to resume his filthy makeout session with Ivy's asshole. Ivy gasped at the heat and feeling, his eyes shooting wide open. He remembered to nod. Vessel nodded with him, licking his lips and asking a desperate “yeah?” before giving Ivy possibly the filthiest kiss he had ever experienced in his life. III continued eating him out. He couldn’t take it. His hips bucked of their own volition, grinding down on III more than before. Stars burst hard behind his eyes when a hand (he didn’t even know who’s) wrapped around his dick, lube slicked and hotter than the sun.
“Can’t let them have all the fun, can I?” II’s voice. II’s hand. Oh, fuck. Vessel bit down on his bottom lip, II twisted and III curled a finger into his prostate. Not even superman could have fought his orgasm off. Whips of heat blew through his entire body, his heart raced, his belly clenched hard. Electricity pounded through his veins, he stained II’s hand, shooting up on his own chest even. He couldn’t think. All there was was ecstasy blazing a path through his body and mind.
It took a minute, or several, he wasn’t sure, for him to come back down to earth. When he did, when he dared to raise his head up, Ivy took in the scene before him. III was looking right at him, from between his legs. III was wrecked, a mess of spit and his smile. II was sitting near him, licking his hand clean. Ivy’s dick twitched hard at that. Vessel was watching II, reaching for II’s hand. II held it out, and Vessel licked at whatever mess Ivy and II had left on II’s hand.
“Fuck,” Ivy panted. They all looked at him then. He felt something warm and heavy settle in his chest. They…they all wanted him. All three of them were taking pleasure from his pleasure. He, Ivy, was getting them off. They were licking his orgasm off of II’s hand. III loved him. He knew it then. II had always loved him. They had been best friends for he didn’t even know how long anymore. And Vessel… he was a gorgeous mystery that had stolen II’s heart and then given it back.
“Hi, pretty boy,” III crawled up Ivy’s body.
Ivy had never felt loved before, and now he was feeling it three times over.
Hours later, they were all clean. III’s phone buzzed near his head. He picked it up, almost without thinking. It was an email, from someone with “Attorney” in front of their name. What the hell was III up to?
CK MODELING CONTRACT, FINAL VERSION - sent with DocuSign.
III snatched his phone back before Ivy could look any further.
II shifted, settling his chest against Ivy’s and tucking his head under Ivy’s chin. He tried to keep his attention on the movie, but he was more focused on his best friend’s body underneath his own. His boyfriend had placed him on top of Ivy, likely to assure him that Vessel really was okay with them being…something. Ivy’s hands were loosely draped over his lower back. He shifted again, semi restless. He couldn’t see III and Vessel on the floor. He didn’t think they could see him either. He wondered…Ivy’s hand pressed down, stilling his hips. The blanket shifted, wedging itself into the couch.
“You’re never this restless,” he barely heard Ivy over gunfire from the film.
“Sorry,” he could only apologize. He’d move, get off of Ivy and sit on the other end of the couch. He made to do so, and Ivy’s hands tightened around him.
“Where are you going?” II finally looked up and met Ivy’s eyes. Ivy was pink, and he was smiling. “Don’t leave,” looking at Ivy, II found it hard to breathe. He needed to feel the heat of Ivy’s pink cheeks against his own. It felt wrong, wanting to kiss Ivy again, even after the discussion at dinner. Even after Vessel had assured him it was alright. Nonetheless, he wanted to kiss him again. He almost apologized again, but Ivy seemed to be thinking the same thing. Their lips met - II wasn’t sure if he’d moved or if Ivy had moved first. It was different from last time, especially given that they had not just been beating the hell out of one another. II’s heart kicked up anyway, thudding against his ribs as Ivy moved his lips. Ivy’s cheeks were warm, warm enough that II could feel that without actually touching them. He found himself pulling back. Shy. Aware that Vessel was just below him. Aware that Vessel probably wanted to see this. It had been different before, when he had had no idea Vessel was watching. It was… something. Knowing that his boyfriend could just…turn his head and find him kissing Ivy. Vessel had placed II right on top of Ivy. He wanted it, to some degree. II wanted it more. He pushed his inhibitions to the side and kissed Ivy again. His blood felt warmer, circling in his veins, now thinking about Vessel ‘catching’ him. He wondered what Vessel would do. Wondered what Ivy would do…wondered if they’d play fight, just so he could watch. Wondered why he wanted to watch that.
“What are you thinking so fucking hard about?” Ivy whispered against his lips. The color drained out of his face.
“How can you tell?”
“Don’t. What are you thinking about?” II bit his own lip, staring at Ivy. He almost said “don't what?” but he knew Ivy would see through it.
“You…,” he tried for flattery. It didn’t really work. Perhaps Ivy really did know him too well.
“Uh huh. Me…doing what?”
“Fighting,” he mumbled. Hoping Ivy wouldn’t push for details. Ivy winked at him.
“Vessel?” Ivy questioned, eyes glittering.
“How the fu-,” he was cut off by the soft press of Ivy’s lips against his.
“I’ll fight him for you,” Ivy mumbled between kisses. They fell into a dance, kissing and moving softly together. Their lips came apart a little hard, and of course the movie had gone silent. Ivy jumped, their eyes met and they both froze like deer in the headlights. Ivy's leg jerked up, knee hitting II in the butt. “III!” Ivy yelled. He could see more than II. II wondered if III had grabbed Ivy's leg. II couldn't see a lot, but what he could see was III's face moving right next to both of them. Then, Vessel's face.
“Hi,” II breathed. Vessel kissed him right on his burning cheek. When did his face get so warm?
“Hey, pretty boy,” III only had eyes for Ivy. “Kiss him again,” III was staring at both of them. Ivy leaned and kissed II again. He fell into it, Ivy’s tongue gently touching at his lips. He opened his mouth, let Ivy in. He bit at his lip, just enough to cause Ivy to moan. Ivy pulled back, slightly breathless. A thin line of spit connected them. III’s hand caught Ivy’s chin, breaking the spit. II watched III tilt Ivy's chin toward him, watched III's lips press just where his own had been. Knew III was tasting his spit on Ivy’s mouth. He couldn't take it. He flushed hard, blood staining his skin, and he moved to sit back. Everyone moved. A firm, giant hand landed between his shoulder blades, keeping him right there.
“Where ya goin'?” III asked. Vessel's hand was on his back. III and Vessel seemed to be perfectly in sync. Had he signed up for more than he could take? Vessel's gorgeous face was so close. Shyness overwhelmed him, and he wanted to hide. He was normally confident, but three sets of eyes were on him. It was too much. But…he wanted more.
“I..uh..,” Ivy surprised them all by sitting up too. Ivy’s dick was perfectly positioned, and as he sat up, it rubbed against II’s with a friction that had his hips bucking into it. That sent sparks flying up his body. He moaned, so soft he hoped no one heard. They heard. Everything happened fast then.
“Are we doing this, or what?” Ivy asked, blunt as he'd ever been. III lunged, kissing him again. Vessel snatched II clean off Ivy's lap.
“Ives, where's your bedroom?” Vessel was as direct as Ivy. What had happened to nervous Vessel, the Vessel who wanted to take their kisses slow over the breakfast bar? II didn't know and right now, he didn't care.
“Come on,” Ivy jumped off the couch, grabbed III's hand. He was still in Vessel's grip. Vessel didn't set him down, didn't let him walk. Vessel simply shifted so that II was wrapped around him and set off after Ivy and III. II took the opportunity to bury his face in Vessel's neck. His need to hide was sated for a moment. Vessel's hands ran up and down his back as he clung to him. “I can't wait for this,” Vessel's voice was just a rumble, breath ghosting against his ear. It sent him into a frenzy, and he found himself mouthing at Vessel's neck, nervous and more turned on than he'd ever been. He worried the skin of Vessel's neck between his teeth, sucking and licking. He wanted to mark Vessel. Vessel was his first, not III’s or Ivy’s. He was ready to see his Vessel, his marks, under Ivy's mouth. Vessel set him down. He reoriented himself, found himself in front of III and Ivy. III and Ivy were tangled up in the doorway, though they separated when II's feet hit the ground. Ivy grabbed his hand and pulled him into his bedroom. Vessel and III followed very close behind, nearly crowding II into Ivy. This was happening.
II and Ivy had taken up a majority of Ivy's small couch. III was already on the floor. Vessel, being the popcorn guy, was left to figure out where he was going to sit. III looked up and patted the floor next to him. Vessel shrugged, tore the blanket off of II and plunked down on the floor.
“Hey!” II shouted. “I'm cold,” he pouted. II was so cute, he could barely stand it.
“Oh, I'm sorry love,” he set the popcorn bowl on III's legs and stood up. He snapped the blanket open wide and lunged. II squealed, an adorable and undignified sound, at the sudden blanket attack. Vessel got him all wrapped up, cocooned in the blanket and then put II right in Ivy's lap. Might as well get his boyfriend comfortable with expressing affection toward II’s other boyfriend in front of him. He thrilled, arousal punching him low in his gut, thinking about II and Ivy kissing, touching, their smaller bodies fitting perfectly together, fitting perfectly between his and III's bodies on his king sized bed. II and Ivy were staring at each other, startled by their sudden proximity. That’s better. II’s startled little look was so sweet. Vessel nodded to himself, turned and sat back down next to III. He leaned close, nose brushing the shell of III's ear, and whispered.
“Look at them,” III shivered before turning. Vessel didn't move fast enough, and their noses brushed. III grinned at Vessel, then continued turning his head so that he could look at Ivy and II sitting together. Vessel watched II wriggle out of the cocoon he’d created and get Ivy into it as well.
“What are you looking at?” Ivy grumbled, wrapping his arms around II’s waist. II was on top of Ivy, lounging across him with Ivy nearly horizontal on the couch. Ivy tucked his face behind II, so that Vessel couldn’t see him anymore. “Turn the movie on,” Vessel raised one eyebrow, but did as Ivy commanded. He settled more fully next to III, leaning on him as the movie started. Vessel wasn’t paying much attention, and wasn't sure what had been selected. He was too aware of everything else in the room. He knew his sweet boyfriend was sitting on top of another man. He knew that, and it was causing a wildfire in his belly. He didn’t know why it was so exciting, but he wanted to watch. He was also aware of each of III’s breaths, his shoulder pressed against him. A thought from a while ago came back and bit him. Having another attractive man mere inches from his face; he had realized III was attractive right after his first date with II. He had...he had wanted to kiss III then, too. Shit, did that make him a bad person? He was distracted, and then III settled, shifting so he could rest his head on Vessel’s shoulder. A thrill ran through him when III sighed contentedly. Above him, he heard either II or Ivy shifting also, and he found himself fighting off the urge to turn and watch.
He was…struggling. He wanted to see. Really, he wanted to hold II while Ivy or III had their way with him. Wanted to be held while someone had their way with him. III, especially, could use his slight height advantage on him… Vessel moved, hoping the room was dark enough that III wouldn’t see him adjust himself. He hoped that II was splayed across Ivy right now, hoped their lips were almost touching, hoped they were staring at one another in the dark. III repositioned again, sitting up. He must have been moving too much. He turned his head to apologize, and when he did, his nose brushed III’s again. He was slightly startled, his lips parted on a silent gasp. III’s gaze met his own. Vessel froze. He was so close. He could just…kiss III, right now. He was right there. Soft breaths puffed against Vessel’s mouth. III wasn’t moving. He was breathing the same air as Vessel. Vessel could just…kiss him. It was a wild thought. They didn’t want to date. But, his mouth was almost against III’s already. He was just…going to try. II and Ivy were dating. It would be okay, just to see. Just to check, to make sure they had chemistry for when they all finally played out III’s fantasies that had started this whole thing. He moved, microscopically. Just… III could pull back if he wanted to. But he was going to kiss him.
The movie went silent for some poignant scene, and because of that, they were both able to hear II and Ivy’s lips separate.
Inspired by @ouijamonstrr Sleep Token Holiday Gift Exchange
Wc 454
Vessel looked around, the decayed vestibule fully lit by his magic torch. He was in garb he had not brought with him. It was a cloak, pauldron, dark green shin guards, hooded masked face. Two's skirt had turned into loose pants, wound softly between her legs. It was cloaked in several types of fabric, thin and lightweight. Three struggled to xir feet, cloaked in swathes of thin fabric, Two's equal opposite. Four was wrapped in solid clothing, nondescript until Vessel moved the torch closer. Their clothes shimmered, clearly imbued with metal. Same as his.
“Walk,” Sleep commanded. A brick fell somewhere. Three shrieked. Two stumbled. Four swept toward the ground, grabbing a torch of their own. It lit as soon as they got it aloft. Something was clearly at work. Likely Sleep.
“D..do we walk?” Two questioned delicately. Its nose wrinkled as she looked out toward the archway. Looking behind her, it didn't see anything. Just a walled off space. They must have come from above, which made sense, given that they'd just fallen down a gaping maw of a hole in the floor.
“Walk,” Sleep commanded once more. Three jumped, and xe went flying several feet in the air. Way more than a person could jump naturally. Two laughed. Four made a move to catch Three. The hand not holding the torch burst into flame on its own.
“Holy shit!” Vessel watched Four, their hand blazing blue. Four stared.
“It…doesn't hurt,” Four’s voice was full of wonder, of shock. They wiggled their fingers, the flames dancing. Vessel went to grab their hand, but the closer his hand got, the hotter it felt.
“Feels way too hot for me to touch,” Vessel pulled his hand back. Four closed their fist, and the flames went out.
“I don't know how I did that,”
“Do I get a power?” Two immediately asked, bouncing on her feet.
“Come find us,” a voice floated to the group, far away and reedy.
“WALK,” Sleep demanded. More bricks fell. One nearly brained Four. Vessel lunged again, this time, catching the brick…somehow. He didn't make it to Four in time, but the brick floated above their head.
“That's so sick,” Three breathed. Xe tried again, bouncing off the floor and flying three meters straight up. “Holy shit!” Xe yelled.
“I want a power!” Two pouted.
“WALK,”
“Okay, okay. I guess we have to walk,” Two responded to Sleep, rolling her eyes at the insistent command. Vessel stepped out of the vestibule first. Four followed right behind. Three came down from xir jump, and followed, grabbing Two and hauling it onto xir back. Two clung to xir, and they all proceeded behind Vessel. The air surrounded them, cold and almost foreboding.
idk. they lick each other. explicit. whatever. read at your own peril.
I was bored and decided to finish this prompt a friend gave me a month ago
wc 996
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.
II’s hands shook the entire drive home. Vessel watched him out of the corner of his eye. II clasped them, checked his phone, reclasped them, touched the door handle, clasped again. He contemplated his own thoughts. He was certain about this, now. Watching II fight, watching the blush on his face. Watching the way he was, how nervous he was about Vessel's reaction. He was certain. Vessel eventually reached over and grabbed II’s hand.
“Calm down,” he implored softly. Breaking the silence still made II jump.
“Vessel, I just… I’m sorry you had to see any of that. I don’t know why I did that,” II’s voice was small. It lacked the confidence he usually broadcast. “I don’t know why I kissed him. I didn’t know I wanted that. I still want you, I still want to be with you,”
“II. Stop. I told you earlier. I want to do this with you. Whatever it is,”
“Why do I feel this way?” II was so quiet, he almost thought he was talking to himself. “You're…you’re amazing. You're everything I've ever wanted in a partner. I don't even know why I kissed him. We…we were fighting!”
“Did it feel right?” He asked before II could keep talking. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched II's lips turn down. He pulled into his driveway then. II didn't answer. He just got out of the car. Vessel followed, watching II shake his head. II actually had a little disbelieving smile on his face. “Upstairs,” he added.
“That's the shitty thing. It did. It felt good. Obviously, I mean, then I started flirting with him. What the hell was I thinking?” II walked up Vessel's stairs like he owned the place.
“Well. I mean. You like him. You like me. What's the problem, really?”
“You. You're just. You're worth more than that, I think. You're so good to me. Why do I want him too? It feels…greedy,” II was pacing In Vessel's bedroom.
“Okay, stop. Come into the bathroom so I can clean you up,” he wondered if a clear instruction, something to actually do, would help II stop. He was clearly spiraling. Vessel didn't know exactly what to say. II nodded and went to the bathroom.
“How are you not mad?” II asked. Vessel leaned down and pulled his first aid kit from under his sink. He took II's jaw in one hand, tilting II's face to look at what was going to be a black eye.
“You remember the steakhouse, don't you?” He asked, sick of listening to II talk himself in nervous circles. He knew what to say. He wiped II's cuts. He also checked his nose, touching it to see if he reacted like it was broken. Bruised maybe, but not broken.
“Yeah, of course. How could I forget?” II’s eyebrows pulled together. Thinking about it, probably. He began prodding, checking for broken ribs. II winced.
“Do you remember what I asked you then?”
“I believe your exact words were that you wanted to ‘formalize this thing between us’,” II's smile reappeared, making Vessel feel so much better. Then, he inhaled through his teeth as Vessel found another cut and disinfected it.
“I asked if you would be my partner, II. And you said yes. Do you know what that means to me? It means you're still mine. It means my equal in all things. My love, my light, all that romantic stuff. But also I'm the guy who's going to be there with you through everything. For as long as you'll have me. Even this. Even when you can't figure you out. I'm here,”
Not the checking his nose, not the pressing for broken ribs, not the alcohol in the cuts, but this brought II to tears. Big, warm, round blue eyes flooded with tears, staring at Vessel.
“W-why?” He sighed then. He had wanted to do this in a more…romantic setting than his bathroom while II was covered in cuts and bruises. He wiped a tear from II's face.
“II… I love you,” II laughed. He laughed. Vessel couldn't help the hurt that blossomed on his face. “I tell you I love you and you laugh at me?” He tried to smile, keeping it light. He knew II was kind of in a rough spot, and this probably wasn't the time to say it. But, it was also the answer to II's question.
“I'm sorry,” II replied, but then he was still laughing. Vessel watched as II's laughs turned to tears. “I love you too,” he continued, crying. Little hysterical giggles bubbled over II's lips. Vessel was smiling. He loved him too. “I'm sorry,” he repeated, now weeping. “It's uh…been a rough day,” II said after his tears slowed. “I love you too,” he whispered again, eyes going wide. “You love me?”
“I do love you,” he couldn't help his smile. II loved him back. Even after kissing Ivy. He loved him back. II wrapped his hands around Vessel's neck. II clung to him, hugging him hard.
“I love you,” II whispered, face pressed against his neck. He kissed the side of II's head and then picked him right up. “Oh!” II’s gasp was delicate, even. It was sweet.
“It's been a long day. Can I get you tea before bed?” II shook his head and mumbled into his neck.
“I just wanna go to bed,” II sounded so sweet, tired and then he snuggled into Vessel. Vessel melted. He sat II on his bed.
“Bed, then,”
“You love me?” He leaned in, kissed II. He kissed him hard. Long. It felt good.
“I do love you. Lay down,” Vessel couldn't help his grin. II loved him. After he laid down with II, II grabbed his hand.
“I'm going to have to talk to Ivy,” II's voice was full of fear.
“That's tomorrow's problem,” Vessel replied, yawning. He gathered II into his arms and held him. “We'll get through it,” he kissed II's head again.
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.
“I mean it,” III’s answering smile nearly had the words ‘I love you’ spilling out.
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