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II didn’t realise he’d seen it happen until later, after the set, when he spotted III striding towards Vessel with his jaw set. At the time, II had vaguely wondered what was going on there but was distracted by the all-consuming need to shower off his peeling, itching body paint.
So it wasn’t until much later, when II was scrunched comfortably with his laptop, glasses on, sitting on the sofa at the back of the bus that the rumblings of the argument reached him. III appeared first, hood of his hoodie up and still looking like he was sucking on a lemon.
‘You alright?’ II asks, not looking up from the long email to his accountant he’d been trying to squeeze out of his brain for half an hour already. III didn’t answer, scrolling on his phone. II didn’t find that surprising. He’d been in a bad mood for a couple of days. Unfortunately, Vessel always seemed to feed off that energy and get himself in a worse mood.
II had been studiously avoiding them both for this exact reason. But it seems his number is up as Vessel also appears through the curtains that divide the rest of the bus from the sofas. II closes his laptop. Fuck this.
II smiles casually at Vessel and tries to skirt around him to finish his email in his bunk but Vessel remains very much in the way.
‘I’m tired,’ II says, trying to sound like he isn’t doing exactly what he is doing — bolting from his moody bandmates before he could get drawn into whatever petty thing that had happened.
‘You two look cosy,’ Vessel says, expression sour. II parts his lips but closes his mouth again. Him blowing up at the unfairness of this statement is exactly what Vessel wants.
‘Well, you know I don’t mind sharing,’ II says, trying again to get around Vessel, hoping the flirting distracts him, but a firm hard catches his upper arm.
‘Please,' II groans as he’s spun back to III who is glaring at both of them. He doesn’t say anything though and for the first time that strikes him as weird. Usually, III would be in Vessel’s face for less than this.
‘What did you do?’ he asks, suddenly curious, glancing at Vessel.
‘He wouldn’t shut up-’ Vessel says, folding his arms defensively.
‘So you…?’ II coaxes.
‘I took his voice,’ Vessel says with a shrug as though this is the most obvious answer. II stills, pulse picking up with shock. Vessel uses his powers so infrequently that it’s easy to forget he has them at all.
II has a loose memory of what that particular power involves. He can remember Vessel telling him and his response being; ‘like The Little Mermaid…?’. Vessel hadn’t dignified that with an answer but had moved closer. That time had been before they’d kissed a lot so it had been awkward when Vessel had sealed his mouth over his. And just like that it had been done.
When Vessel pulled back from him he hadn’t been able to speak, or hum or anything. Even clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth hadn’t produced a single sound. It had felt eerie. He glances at III. He can’t imagine how unpleasant it would feel to have that happen unwillingly.
‘So give it back,’ II says, staring at Vessel. ‘What’s wrong with you?’
‘I want you to try,’ Vessel says, not even remotely cowed, ‘good practice.’
‘I’m not doing that to someone I care about,’ II says indignantly. Vessel opens his mouth but then he pauses, seeming to smile in spite of himself. That’s when II feels III’s long arms envelop him as a pointed chin rests on the top of his head. And then he realises he’s been drawn into their game despite his best efforts. II closes his eyes.
‘It’s easy,’ Vessel says, voice deliberately soft, ‘you just have to feel for it.’ II flicks his eyes open.
‘Fine,’ he grunts, at least he’s a mouse that knows when he’s caught. ‘What do I do?’
Vessel makes a “turn around” gesture with his hand, which II does, before stepping close and grabbing his shoulder. He reaches around with the other hand to catch III’s chin. II notices Vessel still has black paint under his nails. And that he’s not being careful with the other man. He can see Vessel’s blunt nail snag his lip as he grips him too hard. He’ll probably leave a bruise. III doesn’t seem to have noticed.
‘Try,’ is all Vessel says, pulling to make III dip his head. II has absolutely no idea what to do. He doesn’t feel the connection to Sleep, not like Vessel does. Not unless they’re deep in a ritual and even then it feels like a fever dream where he can barely control his limbs.
But Vessel’s grip is tight on him so he leans forward and lifts his mouth as there doesn’t seem to be anything else to do. II presses their lips together and hopes for the best. Nothing happens. Then III sticks his tongue in his mouth and II jerks back, swearing.
‘Stop it,’ Vessel says, flicking III’s nose to get him to stop grinning, ‘focus.’
‘I don’t think it’s going to work,’ II says.
‘You’re close,’ Vessel mutters, nudging him forward again, ‘I can feel it.’
II exhales, figuring he might as well get on with it so Vessel will leave him the fuck alone. He wishes he could think about anything other than The Little Mermaid . A fuzzy memory of lying on his stomach on his sister’s bedroom floor as a shell shatters. And then he feels it.
It feels like reaching for something that’s just at the very tips of his fingers. He stretches toward the feeling. It’s not like in the film. It feels more like throwing up; burning energy rolling up from his throat and out through his mouth.
‘Fuck, your eyes!’ III gasps, stumbling back. II coughs hard, eyes burning and starting to shake all over from the spike of adrenaline. III looks completely unaffected as he peers at him owlishly.
‘What’s happening?’ II asks, panicked as Vessel eases him to sit on the half-circle sofa.
‘Nothing,’ Vessel says, pushing II’s hair off his face to inspect his eyes. ‘It’s gone,’ he says after another moment.
‘What’s gone? What’s happening, man?’ II says, looking around as if a mirror might suddenly appear. Vessel shrugs.
‘You looked like an extra from Terrifier,’ III tells him pleasantly.
‘That doesn’t sound like thank you,’ II says, glaring now he’s caught his breath again. III smirks, turning towards him.
‘I’m not sure you got it all,’ he says, padding over toward II as he attempts to wiggle away, ‘wanna try again?’
‘Get off,’ II says but he can’t help starting to laugh as III bends to lick his face, grabbing his wrists to keep him in place. He lets III lick into his mouth since he doesn’t have much of a choice. II grunts, kissing back hard.
It’s weirdly grounding to be kissed. With both III’s hot hands cupping his face, II feels his equilibrium right itself. The magic tricks and woo-woo bullshit are Vessel’s domain and that’s where it’s going to stay. III mumbles under his breath as III's tongue slips back into II’s mouth. Much slower and more sensual this time. II doesn’t yank back this time either.
Then III rolls him onto his stomach on the sofa, pushing his hoodie up around his ribs and pulling his sweats down over his hips.
It doesn’t occur to II to complain, since III is already back on top of him with a pair of spit-slick fingers in his ass. He exhales, panting through the stretch. His brain is still sending random shocks through his limbs from whatever the fuck he’d just done. Which means III slender digits feel more like a cattle prod in his ass than usual. He shudders hard, clenching around his knuckles and III chuckles.
‘Just watching, boss?’ III asks Vessel cheerfully as he retrieves lube from between the seat cushions where it had apparently been lodged since last time.
‘Get him ready,’ is all Vessel says. From where his cheek is smushed into the sofa, II can see Vessel sprawled out across from them. He’s got one arm above his head and the other hand already stroking inside his sweats. His eyes are black. II can’t help the flinch and little whimper of shock.
‘Too much?’ III says, shifting his weight as he speaks into II’s ear. He shakes his head, turning his face into the cushion so he can’t see Vessel anymore. He’s not afraid. He could never be afraid of Vessel. He just doesn’t want to see it.
‘You sure?’ III asks, voice low, and II nods.
‘I want it,’ he says softly.
‘Say that again,’ III says. II squirms, embarrassed, hearing the smirk in his bandmate’s voice. III presses into him again, causally fucking his fingers in and out as he asks Vessel what he wants to do. II stops listening, concentrating on the sensations in his body. It’s not that he’s not allowed to have any input in what happens next. It’s just he enjoys yielding; giving into the sensation of hot hands on his skin; allowing them to stretch and bend and manipulate his limbs however they like.
III has pulled off his sweats and underwear so he’s naked below the waist with his hoodie still shoved up to his armpits. He can feel Vessel’s hand on his back, long fingers drumming on his tattooed skin.
‘Ready?’ III says, hair brushing his cheek as he bends close. II nods again and immediately feels the blunt head of a cock pressing into him. He’s plenty slick and groans as he’s slowly filled. III thrusts into him are almost agonisingly slow. It’s so bad that II reaches back, scrabbling at the back of III’s thigh trying to force him deeper. But III just laughs, pausing to pin his wrists above his head. That’s good. II feels like his heart is beating right in his balls now he's completely pinned by his bandmate.
There’s some shuffling above him, which is annoying because II is ready to be fucked properly now but III’s mostly pulled out of him to rearrange himself. Vessel’s hands have moved to his hips. Unless III grew another pair , II quickly swats the thought away.
There’s more pressure where III’s dick is already impaling him. II’s eyes flicker open and he tries not to tense up as he realises what’s happening. Vessel’s hands are smoothing over the thin skin stretched over his hip bones, trying to soothe II as he presses into him up to the hilt.
II can hear III swearing above him and Vessel chuckling before he tells III he can move. II moans without meaning to as III starts to tentatively roll his hips. They both laugh and Vessel’s hand suddenly snakes around to grab his cock. II whines sharply, shuddering hard. Vessel lets go of his cock, moving to roll his balls in his palm instead. II grunts as sparks shoot down his thighs to the very tip of his toes.
‘Fuck, man,’ III mumbles, voice strained. His hands are flat on II’s back as he thrusts languidly. II feels his hands clawing into the seat beneath him. He wants to scream. His nerves feel red raw from how overstimulated his body is. He can feel his spine arching as Vessel squeezes . II lets out a moan from deep in his gut. He feels like his entire body is being stretched taut by the two cocks inside him. III swears, nails dragging across II’s skin. The sting of the scratch makes II moan out again. He whines, trying to rut against Vessel’s hand but getting nowhere.
‘Please,’ he whines, mouth muffled against the fabric as he squirms and arches as much as he can beneath the weight of both his bandmates.
‘You gotta be louder,’ III says, giving a deep thrust with his hips. II whines, gritting his teeth as he hears the low rumble of Vessel’s laugh.
‘Please, I-’ he manages to choke out and they both laugh again.
‘Say that again and I’m gonna fuck you raw,’ III says and II feels his hand fist in the damp hair at the nape of his neck. He groans deeply, bearing his teeth as he pulls against his grip just to feel the sting. He can feel Vessel’s hands grabbing tight into the meat of his thighs now. That feels good too. He wants it to hurt. He wants them to leave a mark on him, to stretch him to his limit then rip him apart.
‘Please,’ he pants out. III obliges, holding him down and fucking into him hard. Vessel’s hands are on his cock again and it feels like he barely touches him before he’s coming so hard it knocks the breath out of him.
What’s happening is a bit of a blur for a while after that. He can feel his body clutching desperately as the orgasm peaks. He can feel two pairs (or maybe four or maybe six) of hands on him, leaving burning hand prints in their wake. His thighs are stretched wide, to accommodate both men and his hip sockets are starting to complain.
They're a little out of sync as they fuck into him, making it feel relentless as his insides are stretched and stroked over and over. He can feel III's hips stuttering then a wet, sticky sound and he guesses Vessel has sunk his teeth into his shoulder. Painting purple teeth marks over yellowing ones. II feels the sudden heat and additional slipperiness inside him and shudders.
II hears III groaning, his body softening. Then Vessel's hands go vice-like on II's hips, keeping them in place as he finishes with a handful of deep, hard thrusts. II can the second load of come overfilling him and running down his thighs. All he can hear now is his own damp breathing and a ringing in his ears from the spike in blood pressure.
II can feel the weight shifting and moving off him. He’s too spent to move, so he doesn’t. He closes his eyes for a moment, maybe longer than a moment. Then a towel hits his head. II grunts but doesn’t still doesn’t move.
‘You dead?’ he hears III ask as he pokes his ribs. II grunts again, forcing himself up. He wipes himself down (messy) and pulls his sweats back on. He flops down next to III and remembers his email with a groan. Vessel passes him a neon-coloured drink that says electrolytes in bold on the label. II gulps and then gulps again.
‘It’s kinda hot you could kill me,’ III says. II is only half-listening as Vessel chuckles and tells III he’s lucky hasn’t killed him already.
‘Not you,’ III says, smirking as he pats II on the head, ‘him — that’s what the freaky eyes mean, isn’t it? The god?’ II glances at Vessel who shrugs.
‘Not exactly,’ he says in a flat voice that doesn’t invite further discussion. Curious now, III and II both peer at him but apparently neither feels like pressing their luck.
‘I could just kill you anyway,’ II points out after another moment’s awkward silence.
‘Nah, man, I want to go out with like… a lightning bolt to the chest,’ he insists.
‘I don’t think even he can do that-’ II starts before Vessel interrupts to tell them grumpily that he’s going to bed.