Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

EVERYONE GET HYPE HERE IS THE DAY BY DAY LIST OF KINKS !! RELATIONSHIPS TO BE REVEALED

1. Degredation
2. Kidnapping
3. Alien Abduction
4. Voyeurism
5. Finger Sucking
6. Dubcon
7. Blindfolds
8. Outdoor Sex
9. Tentacles
10. Oral Sex
11. Somnophilia
12. Forcefem
13. Medical Play
14. Choking
15. Semi-Public
16. Remote Control
17. Service
18. Size Queen
19. Creampie
20. Webcam
21. Monsterfucking
22. Gunplay
23. Praise
24. Anal
25. Double Penetration
26. Sex Robot
27. Horseplay
28. Needle Play
29. Body Worship
30. Masturbation
31. Hot tub sex

HAVE FUN READING !!!!

Chapter Text

Paul loves Al. He's obsessed with him, head over heels for him. They'll get married one day, Paul sees it in the future; a miniscule, intimate event, where he's in a lovely suit, and Al's wearing… whatever he wants, Paul supposes. They'll be wed, with little matching gold rings, and Paul yearns for the day he changes his last name more than anything. For now, while he isn't legally, spiritually, physically bonded to this man, he can submit willingly, and lick his boots with a smile on his face.

That, paired with Al's dislike for “boring” vanilla sex, is how he's gotten to where he is, or where he should be, in his eyes. Al runs an unusually careful hand through Paul's lengthy brown hair, eyes burning into his naked form, knelt to the side of the chair Al's in. The hand brushes his shoulder, thumbs down his cheek, curls a wayward, particularly wavy strand back behind his ear. He then plants his palm against Paul's forehead, leaning his head back just so. There's a silent pause, filled with thought, as Paul's inspected closely. He can't read the expression on Al's face, thanks to the thick blindfold across his eyes. He's caught by the chin, head tilted this way and that.

“You stupid ?” Al mutters. Paul nods eagerly, humming a yes. It takes effort to get noise out around the cloth gag lovingly bestowed upon him. “Good. And horny ?” Paul nearly tips over with the speed he rises at, straightening on his knees and clinging to the chair arm. He makes a weak little sound, nodding once again, and Al runs his knuckles over the side of his face. “Mm. Yep. For who ?”

Paul lowers his head to lean his chin on the arm. If his eyes were visible, he'd be making the biggest, prettiest puppy eyes up at the man in the chair. “You,” he groans quietly, barely audible with the gag, Al tightening it around his head in response. “That's right,” he coos, as though congratulating a dog. Around a second later, he grabs Paul by the hair, close to his roots to really hurt, and drags him around to plant his face in his clothed crotch. It smells strongly of sweat and heat, along with something so uniquely Al, smoky and thick. “I'm gonna move your gag so you can suck my cock. Don't say a fucking word unless I tell you to.”

Paul shivers, so honestly delighted he can barely contain himself. Al holds his head in place as he unzips his fly. The second his dick smacks Paul in the face, it's very clear how long he's been hard for. Al wiggles his finger into the edge of the cloth, freeing Paul's mouth just barely enough to fit his cock between his lips.

He gets directly to work, of course. No waiting around when it comes to Al. He sucks down nearly the whole thing, hand firmly around what he can't reach with his willing mouth. Al rewards him with a single hand on his head. Paul doesn't even care that his own cock is painfully hard, rigid with no relief. All that's on his mind is keeping his throat open, tongue thoroughly exploring his whole length. He brings his other hand up to palm at his balls, rewarded with a deep groan and the hand on his head threading into his hair again, tightening. It's fucking delicious. If Paul could sit here for the rest of his life and only pleasure Al, he would in a heartbeat.

He pops his mouth off the top to glide his loving lips up and down the sides, feeling Al's cock twitch and tremble in his grip. So jumpy and excited. Nothing like the man himself. He kitten-licks the head and veins, stroking what he can't reach with a gentle hand. Al ruffles his hair, his pleased sighing bringing immense satisfaction to Paul. “Ain't no thinking happening in that brain of yours,” he chuckles quietly, as if he were talking to a pet. “C'mon, stop makin’ yourself look stupid. Get the hell off my dick.”

Paul is already sadly deprived of something to keep his mouth busy, though he supposes he can be thankful Al hasn't pulled his gag back up. It rests just below his mouth, leaving him room to speak, room for Al to hear every noise he makes.

The next move is Al hauling him up by the shoulders, taking a minute to shuffle, ending with Paul on his knees over Al's lap, reverse cowgirl style, the way Al likes it. He can feel his cock nudging against his inner thigh before anything even touches his hole. As usual, Paul grows impatient and excited, attempting to rub himself against Al's dick, trying so hard to rile him up enough to be fucked now. Al is audibly slicking up his fingers, but Paul has decided he doesn't need that. He feels around and grasps Al's cock, stroking and tugging at an awkward angle.

“Fucking wait,” Al growls, slapping his wrist away. “If you don't stop moving, I'll make you sit here longer, ho.” Paul frowns. He wants to complain but he knows that'll end with the gag right back in his mouth.

There's fingers in his ass out of nowhere. He gasps, and Al snickers, twisting his fingers impatiently. So much for the threat of being empty longer, when he obviously wants it as much as Paul does. Quiet mutters of “yeah, you like that, bitch” are audible from behind Paul, but he's too busy pressing his hips dutifully back to make it go quicker. Al's obviously lazily slicked his fingers up with spit, because they don't feel too smooth, but Paul's only focused on the end goal.

Soon they're out, and Paul is wiggling like a hyper dog waiting for his prize. Al is actually putting effort into his lubing job this time, the pop of a cap pleasing Paul's ears, the sound of him rubbing the liquid over his cock making Paul twitch. “Alright, siddown,” he grunts, tugging at his hip. “Get your nasty hole over here.” No time is wasted whatsoever between that sentence and Paul finally filling himself with the dick he's been waiting for all night. All Al has to say about this is a big sigh, rough hands firmly grasping Paul's hips, guiding him down until skin meets skin. They fit together perfectly, they always have. Paul is obsessed with the way they click, and daydreams about that wedding day again as he rides Al like he's built for it.

From behind; “fuck, yes, fucking pig,” Al groans, hips twitching upwards to meet Paul's when he sits. “Keep going. Just like that, you bitch.” None of the cursing seems to be registering to Paul, whose movements grow faster as they continue. “You're so fucking good at this,” Al whispers, breaking the chain of expletives. “So good, so fucking loose, whore…”

He trains off into inaudible mumbling and grunting as Paul grinds his hips downward, mouth open in a perfect ‘o’ as he whimpers his way to finishing. His muscles flex and tense as his pace grows sloppy, Al leaning forward and gripping him around the waist, cheek pressed against his back.

They finish similarly, moaning at nearly the same tempo as they cum at nearly the same second, timing honed by how many times they've done this. Al buries his face in Paul's spine as he continues rolling his hips, quickly coming down from his high. That's everything he wants, everything he needs for the rest of his life. As Al gently pulls him out of his slumped frame, turning his head to connect their lips, Paul hears wedding bells.

Chapter Text

They'd wrestled him into a motel room, bound by his wrists, propped him up pretty on what felt like a bed. Trent's eyes were covered, mouth gagged with a metal bar between his teeth, similar to the one keeping his legs apart by the ankles. Then, they'd pinched and poked at him, licking and just barely touching Trent's lithe frame until he was trembling where he knelt and straining hard. Then, they left.

It's been almost an hour, maybe, Trent can't tell from where he sits blinded on the generally uncomfortable bed. It feels like it's been an hour. It could've been 20 minutes since they disappeared. Could've been 30. By now he's fed up, and his knees hurt from being sat on and spread like this for so long. He's just about tired of this band and their hazing techniques, or whatever the fuck this is. After a while, it's probably just considered torture rather than hazing. The way they'd grabbed Trent while still on the bus and blindfolded him like a pigeon, ignoring his complaints and eventually shutting him up forcefully could be considered a kidnapping situation. Trent certainly feels like he's being held hostage.

He can hear men in the hallway. The relief he feels when their boots clamor to his door and the voices get louder is enough to make his shoulders go slack. The door rattles open, and there's a familiar cruel cackle as his captors return.

“Holy shit, I can't believe he stayed put.” Barker’s voice comes from the right, where he audibly opens a fridge and shoves clinking glass bottles inside. They ran to the liquor store, Trent thinks with some malice, huffing in distaste. However, he straightens and goes completely rigid as his pretty head of black hair is grabbed by the root and tugged to the left. “Do you know how long it's been ?” grunts a sleazy, low voice. Jourgensen's breath is hot against his ear, and Trent can only hum weakly as an answer. “You sat here for almost two fuckin’ hours waiting for us, faggot.” Al's arm wraps around his waist, scratching lightly at his side in a falsely friendly manner. “I've never seen a slut with this much patience.”

Trent only sat here because Al had threatened to shoot him if he moved a muscle while they were out. He doesn't know if he forgot about that, or if he's just being mean, but the implication that he's that much of a whore is making him mad. “Funny boy,” Connelly murmurs, inches from his face, dipping the bed where he sits. “What a pretty thing. You don’t look too happy, pet,” he whispers, rubbing Trent's jaw with his thumb as gently as possible.

Those are the men who have him trapped here, and Trent senses that they'll knock him out soon enough, too. He feels the bed rise, then dip again, and braces himself for rough contact. A kind hand meets his face, and steady lips press against his jaw. It's Paul, from what he can tell. The guess is cemented when lengthy fingers gently touch his cock. Trent buzzes around the metal bar, and he can hear Al return to his side, loudly guzzling a beer, probably his tenth of the night. Trent instinctively leans away from him, but Al isn't having this. He pulls the skinnier man closer to him, sides pressed together, and much to Trent's dismay, bats Paul's hand away.

“Get lube,” he instructs, and Trent shivers in his grip. Al turns to him, breath rolling down his neck, as he tugs playfully on the binds round his wrists. “What's the matter ? We'll get somethin’ in you soon. I know it's so hard for you to be empty.” Trent can hear the awful grin in his voice. It makes him violent, but unfortunately the urge seizes his body and must wash away. He can't do anything in this state, and especially not when fear grips his soul as Al clambers onto the mattress behind him.

His boner is made obvious immediately. He purposefully presses it right against Trent's ass, the cap to something scary popping open. A hand on his stomach from the front makes his muscles spasm, and someone's mouth closes over his nipple. He can't help but whimper this time, muffled by the bar gag in his mouth. From the giddy chuckle against his chest, he infers it's Chris. Great. Chris’ mouth is moving downwards, and Al's hand is grabbing as much of Trent's ass as it can, and Trent is practically twitching in fear. It's not that he doesn't want this (the whole situation actually arouses him immensely, just don't tell Al), he's just petrified of how rough they're going to be with him.

The head of Al's cock catches on his hole, setting the tone for the next few hours, Trent can guess. He gasps, forcefully bent slightly over, his hips locked in place with Al's tight grip. He's taken rather impatiently, Al wiggling his dick into the hole before him, while Trent really tries his hardest not to move. It gets difficult, though, especially when Chris’ motives become clear, lips kissing a trail down to Trent's cock, standing rigidly at attention.

He can't hold himself up too well anymore, not when Al's bottoming out in him, and his whole cock is being skillfully taken down Chris’ throat. He whimpers around the bar, shivers running down his spine. Al rubs his back in a kind gesture, though the way he starts his pace is much less than kind. Trent groans, body jerking forward as Al's hips immediately clap against his ass, cock so much larger than you would expect. Not to mention it hits that little bundle of nerves in there almost immediately, Trent's knees nearly failing on him. Chris, meanwhile, happily deepthroats him, one hand protectively on his hip as he takes him slowly in, and slowly out.

Paul is nowhere, Trent realizes, and has enough brain power to worry until he feels a gentle kiss press to his temple. Moments after, Chris starts buzzing around his cock, muffled moaning coming from in front of him as Trent can only assume Paul mounts him. The vibrations coupled with Al's strong grip on his middle are finally enough to make him lose energy, nearly collapsing over Chris if Al hadn't tipped him just so to lay back on his body. He tries to say something, but it comes out as a mumbled string of sounds, ending in a keening whimper.

He feels Chris pop off his cock, kissing around it and panting like a dog. He can hear how roughly Paul's fucking him, the vaguely wet smacking noise joining the one that Al's hips are making. He licks Trent's tip so gently a few times, and his orgasm suddenly hits him like a truck. He clenches around Al's cock with a gasp, no doubt cumming all over Chris’ face. Now he really has to lean on Al, slumping down with a defeated little sigh. Al props him up, hot breath once again ghosting over his ear.

“There's a good lad,” he grumbles, continuing to fuck Trent until it starts to hurt. “You ready ? Tell me where you want it.”

Trent knows there's one right answer. “Inside,” he mutters, barely able to get the word out.

Al kisses his shoulder so lovingly. “Good,” he grunts, and it's only a few moments until his pace grows sloppier, cock throbbing maybe twice before Trent is filled thoroughly. He whines like a dog around his gag, ass wiggling against Al's hips, a silent thank you that Al nibbles at his shoulder for. They stay locked together for a good minute until Chris audibly finishes, squealing and clinging to Trent's leg.

The moment Paul is finished with him, he leaves him to recover and moves forward to kiss Trent once again, lightly on the cheek, rubbing a thumb into his nipple. He's the one that delicately unhooks the gag, sliding it slowly out of Trent's mouth.

“Are you fucking serious ?” is the first thing he says once he regains his voice. “You people are crazy. I quit. I never want to play for this fucking band again.”

Chapter Text

You peek out the blinds of your bedroom window. It's 1 AM. The sky is pitch-dark, and so are the woods behind your home. It's always a little frightening to look into, but once you see a shift in the blackness, a smile tugs at the corner of your mouth. Two yellow lights appear like holes poked in black paper.

You shut the blinds and move to exit your house, picking up the plate of expertly cooked steak strips with you. God knows how long you've had that creature out there, building its trust and letting it linger in your backyard. It seems like years since it'd landed on your property, small UFO wedged into your trees, though you know it'd only been about a month and maybe a half. You'd started feeding it more recently, upon realizing that it'd emptied its rations. It was more like your new pet than anything, but with you you carry a notebook filled with observations, as well as a nearly-completed way to communicate with it.

The Other is there when you turn the back corner of your house, sitting beneath your window. He stands at the sight of your plate, respectfully taking it from you and inspecting the meat carefully. You've never fed him steak before. You pull a deck out of your pocket- a while ago, you'd picked up some vocab flash cards for babies to teach him how this planet works. The one you have today is farm animals. You draw the cow card and show it to him. “It's cow meat,” you smile. “Beef, from cows, and some seasoning.”

The Other makes a little chirping sound, and you take one off the plate to eat with him. His eyes are still yellow. According to your notebook, which you produce now to check, he's interested in what you’ve given him. His eyes turn pink once he swallows the piece of steak. The Other likes it ! This turned out better than the time you tried to feed him salad. You'd sworn he was going to fix his UFO that night and leave.

Speaking of which, you notice you can no longer see the UFO through the gaps of the trees. Before you can even ask him about this, he suddenly takes your hand and walks away with you. You trust him enough to follow without question. As you continue, his eyes turn green. Your notes say he's happy. This is interesting.

Once you get to the small clearing you'd made to release his UFO from the trees and bushes, you gasp. The ship looks wonderful. Cleaned and fixed, shiny silver the likes of which can't be found on Earth. You step towards it. “Wow,” you breathe, turning back to him. The Other wiggles a little, like he's brimming with excitement. “This is amazing,” you grin. “I can't believe you fixed this by yourself.” You would've helped him, and you had tried, but you'd quickly found his otherworldly technology was nothing you could mess with.

The Other chirps again, and suddenly, you're being led toward it. You feel a little rush of nervousness, and step away from him for a second. He clucks, eyes turning yellow.

“Sorry,” you sigh, looking up at the contraption. “Just- it's a little scary, I'm not gonna lie.” You laugh nervously, hoping that doesn't offend him, but The Other's eyes turn green, and he comes back to you. He pets you on the head like he'd seen you do with your cat, and you just accept it. Clearly he wants you to see the inside. There's always the possibility he could just fly away with you, but honestly, you're not sure if you mind that much anymore.

You're in the UFO before you can think much further. It's sleek and futuristic inside, much like the outside. The Other moves off to the side, and you find it funny how he's still eating off your plate. With a loud snapping noise, the lights power on. It's sterile and bright, but you’re amazed. You busy yourself with looking over the strange mechanics, directions written in a language you don't understand, buttons and switches arranged meticulously across a dashboard, where a pretty rolling chair is posted in front of. You have a seat, spinning about to observe the ceiling, a big window into the night sky. There's a panel in the middle that a screen runs across, and you watch it form a 3D model of Earth in midair before you, a little blinking light marking exactly where the UFO is right now.

Then, it starts to rumble.

You stand quickly, looking at The Other. He's flicked on a couple switches, pressed a few buttons. You feel fear, briefly, and then you feel… okay with this. You're pretty sure that an alien flying you away in his ship is nothing to be comfortable with, but… it's The Other. You have no idea what his plans are, and you can't help but look at him and trust that he's going to bring you back. He looks back at you, eyes pink again, and places the empty plate on the floor.

He chitters, clearly trying to explain something to you. You shrug- however, you get a wonderful idea and pull out the few decks of cards you'd brought with you. Space, animals, plants, and feelings, along with question and exclamation mark cards you'd made yourself. You hand them off, and he sits on the floor, rustling through them for what he's trying to say.

Spaceship. Like, the feeling. Question mark ?

“Yes,” you smile, looking around. “This is… this is the coolest thing I've ever seen.”

You're glad he can understand some English, because he claps his gloved hands together and squeals. He looks through the cards again, picking out a few of the feelings.

Home. Soon. Space. Now.

You knew he'd bring you back. You can't help but laugh, plopping yourself down on the floor with him and looking up. You're startled to find that the window is a direct view into more stars than you've ever seen. The Other flicks a switch, and the entire wall to your left opens into a window. You almost assume it's a screen at first. Before you is the Earth, the planet in its entirety. You can barely look away. A floating blue and white ball, almost emitting a sort of ethereal glow into the vast expanse of space. You don't have time to inner monologue about the meaninglessness of the human race in the universe, you're too fucking blown away.

The Other is suddenly very close to you. He chitters, pointing to a certain spot to the left. That must've been where you came from. “Looks nothing like the globe in all my history classes,” you chuckle breathlessly, turning back to him. His eyes are pink, and he's not even looking at the view. He's focused on your face, and you assume he's hoping you aren't scared. You gently take the deck of feelings cards from him and pick out “amazed.” You point to the little face on the card, open-mouthed and wide eyed. He squints, and you can tell it's a smile.

Back to the dashboard he goes, and this time, you notice the movement of the ship. It flies so smoothly, it feels like you aren't going anywhere. The Other spins it slowly about to angle at the moon, which looks incredibly small in comparison. “We've been there,” you smirk, sure the human space accomplishments are something a 2 year old of The Other's species could do. You zoom closer to the moon, circling it, The Other chirping away like he's a tour guide. You wish you could understand him. You're sure he's so knowledgeable.

Now you're staring at him. He looks excited, buzzing like a little boy. If you… ignore the giant, alien head, and the gray skin, and the bug eyes… actually, you think, now entirely focused on him. That might be what's charming you in the first place. You stand up, slowly making your way over to him. He's staring out a window he's materialized in front of his dashboard, studying the moon closely. You make sure he doesn't notice you, hesitating slightly. Then, you lean up, over his shoulder, and kiss the rough skin of his cheek.

He looks at you incredulously, eyes yellow. It occurs to you that, to a species without lips, kissing is probably not the way they show affection. You turn slightly pink. “Sorry,” you giggle, trying not to chicken out of this situation. “That's, um… that means I love you. And thank you, sometimes. And you're welcome. And… a lot of things.” His eyes are still a pale yellow, as if he's unsure how to feel. Your chest clenches nervously; you've just confessed your love to an inhuman creature you've been essentially keeping as a pet for the past two months. The Other finally moves after a beat of silence, collecting the feelings cards from where you'd left them on the floor.

Love. Question mark ? Romantic. Question mark ?

“... yeah, I mean… usually…” This is so embarrassing to explain. “Sometimes it's friendly… sometimes it… isn't…”

The Other then pockets the cards and makes his way towards you again. You fear what his plans are; he's probably going to the dashboard to pilot you back home, and then never come back. Your eyes meet the floor- until you see his boots stop in front of you, toe tips to toe tips, and his hands rise to meet your face. His fingertips press firmly into your temples, and his eyes turn a shade of lavender you've never seen in your life. Suddenly, it feels as though he's just shocked your whole spine, a gentle burst of warm electricity that sends tingles through your system and makes your vision go blurry for a split-second. Then, his fingers pull away.

Love. He's holding the card again, when you refocus. Love, romantic, in the same hand.

That is love. That's what it feels like. You have an out-of-body epiphany for a minute. That was like kissing with your brain. Kissing with your nervous system. You blink, and then bring your hands to his face. “Can I do that ?” you mutter, and he chitters and places your fingers on his temples.

A moment passes, and he opens his eyes. He shakes his head, but quickly reaches for some cards.

No. Okay. Exclamation point ! Human.

You assume he's trying to tell you it doesn't work because you're a human. You smile, but it's a little defeated. His reassurance makes you feel better, though. “Do it again,” you regain confidence, taking his wrists and bringing them back up. He does, planting his fingertips on the sides of your head and vibrating every nerve in your body. It feels wonderful, both physically and mentally. The Other then demonstrates a quick brush to each temple with his thumbs, which sends a weak shock down to your tailbone. A quick, casual kiss. You notice the reappearance of the feelings cards.

Again. Love.

He wants you to do it again, your version of love. Obviously, you cannot deny him. You lean up and kiss his giant forehead, giggling at the absurdity of the situation. How ridiculous is this ? Kissing an alien in a UFO, far, far above Earth. This feels like a bad romcom book. You kiss him again and again, he keeps your head in place, demanding more each time you try to pull away. You don't know how this feels to him, but it must be euphoric. His lips, or lack thereof, are hard and shell-like. After a bit, he tries to nip at your much softer lips every time you come up for a smooch. Quickly, the kissing is becoming much deeper than you'd intended, though the first electric shock he'd sent through you was probably equivalent to a makeout session.

Your lips have been connected to his excited, snapping mouth for a while now. He's nibbling at your lip, chirping softly, and the moment his hands find their way to your waist, you're both sinking to the ground. It seems a few things are similar between races. He's still taller than you, even when you're both on your knees, clinging to each other like it's your last day on… well, you suppose you aren't on Earth anymore.

You don't even notice his hands come up, but they're at your temples in no time, and love buzzes down your spine. He's kissing you back. Warmth and ecstasy floods you, as you find your hands picking at the edges of his clothes. This has escalated quickly.

Unfortunately, the cards are for children, so there isn't one that says “please fuck me.” You're unsure how to communicate sex to him, assuming The Other doesn't know how that works. You're trying to think of how to explain this with the little resources you have, when you suddenly feel something surprisingly hard against your leg. Oh ! He has a boner. Good. Sex must work almost the same, then, you hope. Bravely, your hand travels down and grazes a finger over the bulge, before testing the waters and giving it a squeeze.

It works, he's on board immediately. The Other squeaks and grabs your shoulders, eyes plunging into a dark shade of purple, new once again. He's shivering like he's never felt the touch of another being before. He proves even further to you that he knows exactly how this works by shoving his hands up your shirt and fluttering about underneath. Wow, you think, breathing hotly as he attempts to take your top off. You help him, fingers trembling a little as you're left half naked in front of him. The Other seems to pause at the sight of your nipples, studying them for a moment. You can't help but laugh. “We're mammals. That's for milk.” He blinks, looking taken aback, but continues on anyway.

As his fingers find your pants button, you stop him and quietly move to tug at his own shirt. He nods in understanding, letting that join the slowly growing clothes pile next to you. His torso is entirely smooth. No nipples, no navel, nothing. You do see evidence of ribs, which you run your fingers over, fascinated, as he continues to tug at your pants.

Now for the main event. Both of you find yourselves on your sides on the floor, to make getting naked easier. You unclip his kneepad, dropping that away, and he kicks his boots off. He lets you tug his jeans down, while his still-gloved hands work your pants off similarly. You're brimming with excitement, red in the face as you avoid his big, purple eyes, yanking his jeans off his ankles. Cold air hits your legs at about the same time, and both of you are bare and pointedly not looking at each other out of embarrassment.

…you have to peek, you think, eye turning to glance below The Other's waist. You nearly fly upwards at the sight of him- long, sharp, and gray. It pokes out from a slit at his crotch; without the appendage, it'd look like a vaginal opening. You suppose he's a sort of reptile, then, or maybe an amphibian. That thing is leaking a bright purple goo that matches the color of his eyes. You make the conclusion that purple = horny.

You watch it twitch, and you feel a thrill. You have enough courage to bring a hand down and grip him at the base. His stomach jerks, and a low buzzing noise begins to emit from him. It appears he likes it. You give him a couple lazy strokes, and he folds in on himself, whimpering like a puppy. You coo at him, kissing his cheek. In return, he brushes your temples briefly again.

After a moment, he removes his gloves, revealing sharp nails and lighter gray palms beneath. Those hands grasp your thighs, maneuvering your legs into a good position. When the sharp tip of his cock prods your hole, you snap to attention, and shake your head. “You can't just… put it in,” you protest, and he looks confused. “It's gonna hurt,” you reason, as he rifles around in the cards again. “You have to, like… stick your fingers in.”

Wet.

You peer at the card, with a tiny decal of a raincloud on it, and let out a little amused huff. Wet. For some reason, you're inclined to trust him. You're unsure how the opposite sex of his species works, but you hope it's somewhat similar.

Not a minute later you learn that you should never doubt The Other again. He is wet, rather slimy, actually, but the feeling of him sliding so smoothly into you is unmatched, and you can't be even a little disgusted. Your head falls back to the floor, legs spread by his hands as you whine, squirming. The Other chitters, eyes squinting comfortably as he stations himself inside you. There's ridges you can feel at his base, ridges you somehow hadn't even noticed, and that pointy edge is poking right into a spot that leaves you trembling immediately. “God,” you groan, eyes squeezing shut. “Okay, yeah. Perfect.”

The Other looks pleased. He starts immediately, hips setting a quick but soft pace as he grips your thighs, propping your legs up on his shoulders. All the while, he chirps like a bug, squeaking and chittering happily, along with sighing from his nose. He's so much… larger than he'd looked. You twitch and writhe, back curving to meet his thrusting. This is the most ridiculous situation you've ever been in. Just to remind yourself of that, your head flops over and you stare out the window again. The UFO has rotated back around to Earth. Fucking for the whole world to see, you think, and you shut your eyes with a moan. You can feel where his cock is pressing into your belly, feeling the most stretched out you've ever been, yet there's no pain involved. The slide is so smooth, sparks of pleasure sometimes bordering on an ache.

He leans back over you, folding you in half, and gives you “kisses” once again. The vibrations coupled with how he's fucking you so deeply has your orgasm running towards you like a train. The Other chatters, curling into you, and your hands come up to wrap around his torso, clinging to him tightly. Shortly, you cum, squeezing tight around his cock, which prompts him to finish as well. His semen feels thick and odd, and it's most likely purple, you think, grimacing as it fills you. No matter. He fucks you down from your climax, and then, after a minute of lingering inside you, slips out effortlessly.

Wow. You lay there for a while, and he flops next to you, curling into your warm body. Three cards are placed in your hand, and when you've caught your breath and regained enough energy, you raise them to your face.

Home. Now. Question mark ?

You smile, turning to him. His eyes are still purple, wide and adoring. You kiss his forehead and poke him between the eyes. “Home, soon,” you assure him. “Space, now.”

Chapter Text

The closet is small, but that works for cEvin. Enough space to sit by himself and hotbox in, that is. He breathes in the good cloud he's got going for himself, leaning against the pile of extra pillows. The alone time is certainly appreciated. Touring is hard, especially when you're touring with the biggest diva industrial music has ever seen. cEvin clears his throat, nearly choking on the air. His calm streak has been interrupted by thinking about Ogre. Whatever, he sighs, letting his heavy eyelids shut. Ogre's not here right now. It's just him and the blunt.

Outside the closet, the motel room door opens and shuts.

cEvin's eyes shoot open. Is… is this not his room ? Nobody but Dwayne has the key to his room, and Dwayne should still be out with friends. It sounds like two people outside the closet, occasionally going silent, mostly stumbling about, probably drunk. cEvin glances at the blanket stuffed in the gap beneath the door. If he moves it, he risks ruining his smoke cloud, or blowing his cover, if this really isn't his room. He presses his cheek to the floor and tentatively lifts the corner the smallest bit, just enough to see out.

The bed squeaks the moment he registers where he's looking. There's two people on it- two men, cEvin assumes, based on the way they're grunting and groaning. His eye flicks about, trying to prove to himself that this is his room. The second he spots the trunk, his heart falls out of his ass.

This is not his room. This is Ogre's room. His room is next door.

That must mean that the man with his skinny little legs around the much larger one's torso is Ogre. The one who's grabbing at the man over him, the one who cEvin can definitely see the face of now, who is undoubtedly Ogre. His eyeliner is running down his face, cheeks flushed a pink to compliment his paper pale skin, eyes glazed over in a way that makes cEvin's dick jump shamefully. Maybe it's the weed, but the way this man is handling Ogre is much more arousing than he wants to admit. They're half naked when cEvin blinks, and he's got a front seat view of where the man is thumbing at Ogre's hole.

“You still ready ?” he mumbled, voice gravelly. “Think you need to be fingered any more ?”

Ogre sobs, and cEvin twitches. He's far too hard already. It's clear they'd been messing around before this, and the image of Ogre writhing against a wall in a dark corner with fingers up his ass hits him like a truck. The man doesn't end up sticking them inside, instead rolling Ogre over onto his hands and knees, forcefully arching his back and grabbing at his hips. They'd barely even taken the time to remove their shirts or socks, only boots and jeans, anything getting in the way of cock and hole.

The man is inside him quickly, much quicker than cEvin had anticipated. His heart pounds in his ears, and he's suddenly shoving his hand into his jeans, popping his cock out and rubbing himself to full hardness. The bed jostles, squeaking, thumping lightly against the wall. cEvin pities whoever is over there at this moment, as Ogre gets right to moaning like a bitch, skin clapping against skin. It's not like cEvin isn't familiar with that sound- everyone's had a piece of Ogre, him included. It's just the first time he's heard it so clearly without being the one causing it. He jerks his cock in time with the man thrusting, a pace on the quicker side, hard enough to jolt Ogre forward with each smack. cEvin's mouth twitches upwards, watching gleefully as Ogre gets his ass slapped, face buried in the pillow to keep himself down.

He's gonna cum so much sooner than he ever has. Maybe the hash is crossing more wires than he'd thought. His cock throbs in his palm as he strains his vision to watch where the man's thick length disappears into Ogre's hole. “I feel that,” the man groans loudly. “You're almost there. Cum. Nut on my huge fucking cock.” cEvin rolls his eyes. He's not that big. Still, Ogre does as told, hole fluttering for a minute before he squeezes and cums with a squeal.

That was one of the hottest things cEvin's ever seen in his life. He squeezes his eyes shut and comes hard, covering his mouth quickly. He's been effortlessly quiet this whole time, only making a little whining noise as he finishes. He lets his breath come back to him, then opens his eyes, peeking back out the sliver in the closet door. The two on the bed are making out again. cEvin sighs and rolls onto his back, pressing the blunt to his lips again.

It's silent outside the closet, so he assumes he'll be able to hustle out of there in a minute or two. Then, the bed starts creaking again. He frowns. It's going to be a long night.

Chapter Text

The big, obnoxious truck pulls back into the high school parking lot. It sits there for a while, as its owners inside speak, talking eagerly until one of them looks back towards the building.

“Lunch is going to be over soon,” Pauline mutters, shuffling her heels on the truck floor. “I should really get back.”

Alice takes her hand off the wheel, leaning towards Pauline over the center console. She reaches out and takes her face in hand, tilting her head towards her. Pauline raises an eyebrow. “What ?” she murmurs, trying not to smile. Alice grins in response. “You're so hot,” she observes. She tugs her face downwards towards herself, and Pauline complies, kissing her delicately on the lips. She can't get too caught up here, otherwise she'll be late… but the way Alice thumbs at her shirt, pulling her closer makes her never want to leave. Pauline can't help the way her hands reach out and cup at her face, tilting her head just so to lovingly slot their lips together. They remain like this for a minute longer, Alice the one to pull away first.

“I wanna fuck you,” Alice breathes. Pauline's eyebrows shoot up. “Alice !” she whispers, cheeks burning. Alice, as usual, cares very little for the situation they're in, curling Pauline's hair delicately behind her ear. She knows that Alice would crack her open right in this backseat; and she'd absolutely let her, too. A guilty glance at the clock proves that they don't have the time.

“When I get home,” she promises, and Alice leans up to kiss her again. It's deeper this time, full of need. Her fingers prowl about Pauline's face, feeling her velvety wrinkles, dips, and imperfections. When their mouths part, Alice grazes her thumb over her bottom lip. The touch is so tender, exactly as loving as the kiss had promised. Pauline is caught off guard, though, when Alice's thumb breaches her mouth, pressing inside.

Pauline opens her eyes, mildly confused, though, when she catches the intense look in Alice's eyes, the corner of her mouth picks up in a smile. Her hand comes up to gently grasp Alice's wrist, sucking softly on her digit. When her pointer and middle are shoved in eagerly as well, Pauline has no qualms about working her tongue around them like an expert. Alice stares at her like she’s under a spell. If this satisfies her until the evening, so be it, Pauline thinks. It's Friday, so they can fuck ‘till morning with no repercussions. Knowing this, Pauline increases the desperation in which she licks at Alice's fingers. Her grip on her wrist tightens just so, and she takes all three fingers deep in her mouth, letting them brush the back of her throat, then pulling them out.

A string of spit connects her lip to Alice's fingertip, one that is quickly broken. “Good enough for you ?” Pauline smiles, raising an eyebrow. Alice is purely red. She's never been silenced so hard by something before. She glances at her fingers, then back up to Pauline, who kisses her forehead. “I'm gonna be late, come on, let me go.” Alice leans forward and grasps her sleeve with her other hand, Pauline accepting another kiss to the mouth. “Soon,” she mumbles, between Alice's frantic lip movements. “I promise, hon, soon.”

With enough convincing, she manages to step out of the car, Alice looking rather disappointed. “See you later,” she mutters, and Pauline leans up to poke her with a grin. “Come on,” she sighs. “Don't bitch all day. Look forward to later.” Alice eventually meets her smile, looking much more malicious, as she leans forward for one last kiss on the forehead, and a pinch on the breast, of course.

Pauline can't help but smile as she walks away, feeling Alice still watching her from her car. She waves once she gets to the door, scanning in, and then Alice is out of sight. Later, she thinks, trying to will away the flush still on her face. Pauline gets to class just as the bell rings, and sighs, leaning back in her chair. How is she supposed to teach a class like this ? Maybe she'll convince them she has a headache and just have them do bookwork, if only to give herself time to daydream about later.

Chapter Text

The state of mind between sober and high is not a pleasant place to be. Leeb's body, draped over the couch, is unnaturally still as he watches cEvin finish off the blunt. He hasn't even gotten spacey yet. It seems cEvin's worked himself into a nice, calm high, which is good for him. Always good for him. Bill frowns and barely registers that he does it.

"What's with the sour look ?" cEvin chuckles, leaning closer to him. Bill squirms, sighing deeply. "Nothing," he grunts, but cEvin's sliding over and wrapping a friendly arm around his waist. "Ah, don't give me that. I know how you are. I've seen you wearing that frowny face a lot more than usual. Why is that ?"

Bill sighs, ready to finally have this conversation, about how boring the band's gotten, about how he doesn't agree with the direction they're going in. He's been waiting for this- to finally tell cEvin everything he thinks, and hopefully ridding himself of this position. However, before he can even say anything, he takes notice of how close cEvin is, and most particularly, the way his thumb is stroking his hip.

"This. This is what I'm talking about," Bill starts, wiggling uncomfortably. Here is a good place to begin if any, even if he doesn't get to the band itself first. He's got complaints about cEvin and Ogre themselves, and he's not going to let them go unmentioned. "You're- you're too touchy-feely. You're a fucking freak," he grits, attempting to back out of cEvin's hold. He stands up, but the other follows suit, lingering before him in a rather non-threatening way.

"I can't stand watching you feel up the lead anymore. It's disgusting. You two have no shame whatsoever, and you force me to deal with it. I can't work with a couple of faggots," Bill spits, and half-expects cEvin to get physical with him. However, cEvin only raises his eyebrows in a mildly surprised manner, and then lets a calm smile tug at his mouth. "Poor thing," he murmurs, completely unaffected by the outburst. "I know what's wrong."

He moves closer, grabbing Bill's wrist before he can move away. His other hand settles on the shorter's hip, and, to Bill's ultimate horror, he leans over to kiss his jaw tenderly. "You could've just asked. I know it's frustrating to watch your friends have fun without you. I've been waiting for you to ask for your turn, y'know."

Bill is stunned into silence for a good moment, feeling unbearably warm for too long, the heat of cEvin's lips lingering on his jaw. Then, he blinks. "That's not what I mean at all !" he yells, wriggling in his grip. But cEvin simply shushes him and strokes the side of his face in a comforting manner. "Shh. It's fine. We do love you. You know that ? We love you. We don't mean to leave you out." cEvin presses another sweet kiss to Bill's cheek, thumb rubbing over where his lips had touched. "You love us, too, I know it. Give me a chance to right it, okay ?"

At this point, Bill is trying to convince himself this is a nightmare. However, the nip of cEvin's teeth against his neck proves it is not. "Fuck you," he whispers, voice quiet and pathetic. He doesn't know why he can't raise his tone to what he's feeling (or what he thinks he's feeling), but he suspects it has something to do with the heat in his gut. Thumbs dig into the waist of his pants, slipping under as cEvin pulls him impossibly closer. He's big and warm, the solidity of his chest almost grounding. "You know you love me," he's mumbling, lips brushing just past Bill's ear. The comfortable aura of his body is enough to make Bill forget he was moving, suddenly still in cEvin's arms. Something about this is overwhelmingly loving, something about how cEvin's nose trails down Bill's jaw, nudging at the crook of his neck, lips pressing and brushing against his skin. His hands slide around to the front, hanging off his pants in front, by the button. Bill's even more secured in his embrace now, and he almost loses himself to this.

Then, cEvin licks his ear. Somehow that's what snaps Bill back to it, and he gasps, once again wiggling as if it'd do anything to deter cEvin. Though, this time, he isn't putting his whole strength into it. He's got other things on his mind, other things that don't involve getting violent. There's no way this shit is actually working on him. However, as cEvin backs him up slowly, firmly pressing him against the wall behind him, hands searching up Bill's shirt, the latter stops, growing quite still to allow cEvin access anywhere. Fuck, why is he doing this ? The twitching in his jeans answers his question.

cEvin kisses his cheek, but then his lips search for more. Bill finds himself leaning fully on the wall as his own mouth is taken, suddenly without complaint as he shuts his eyes tightly. His hands have gripped onto cEvin's sleeves, and there's a moment of silence and heavy breathing as they kiss deeply.

cEvin keeps his mouth attached to Bill's for a little longer as he slides him down the wall, only disconnecting with a string of spit when Bill is too low to follow. He slumps onto his knees, wondering how the hell he let himself get here, and doesn't look right into cEvin's heated gaze as he watches him undo his belt buckle, very slowly. Bill still wonders if he's dreaming or not. This seems impossible. Either way, Bill's soon hit in the nose with his tip, completely blanking the second he takes in exactly how large cEvin is. He supposes it's not a total surprise, considering cEvin's built like a brick wall, but...

"You want me to..." Bill mutters, mouth drying up before he can finish his sentence. cEvin grins again, the same smile that made him uneasy in the first place. "Yep," he snickers. "It's alright. It's not as big as it looks." Bill highly doubts that. He straightens anyway, cringing as he really... looks at it. He's never seen another man's cock before, somehow. It's not very appetizing. Still, cEvin is watching him expectantly, and Bill's come this far. He could just say "fuck this" and run away, but, well... now he's here.

The minute Bill licks his tip, cEvin sighs. He's never gotten head himself, but he's sure it doesn't feel that good. He squeezes his eyes shut, and takes it into his mouth, getting about three-fourths of the way before he gags and shivers. cEvin takes ahold of his head. "That's good," he grunts. "Suck." The instruction is so vulgar, and yet, Bill's cock has jumped. He follows directions quicker than he'd like to admit, tentatively sucking on cEvin's length. The taller does the hard work for him, fucking his mouth as gently as he can, which still results in the back of Bill's throat getting assaulted. Tears threaten to make themselves known, and he finds himself glancing up at cEvin. Meeting his gaze is terrifying and incredibly embarrassing, and brings back Bill's urge to run away. The warmth in his mouth, though, paired with the warmth in his jeans, is keeping him rooted to the floor. cEvin grunts, and Bill drops his eyes, focusing on fitting more of his cock in his mouth.

Ogre is in the corner of his vision.

Bill chokes, and slams his head against the wall with how fast he disconnects from cEvin's dick. The man above him looks almost concerned, and then his attention is also brought over to the door. "Ogre !" he smiles, patting Bill's head in reassurance. "Look ! I did it !"

Bill feels like a tamed horse the way Ogre's staring at him, completely dumbfounded. He shuts the door behind himself, looking from Bill to cEvin, and back again. A slow smile forms on his face. "...how'd you...?" he starts, eyeing cEvin suspiciously. He laughs. "I don't know, my natural charm was enough." Ogre waves a hand dismissively at him, and then drops to his knees beside Bill. "Well," he mumbles, grabbing Bill's chin and forcing him to look back up. "Hello. Fancy seeing you like this. I think cEvin owes me quite a bit of money, but for now, why don't you keep sucking ?"

Bill's cheek is poked tauntingly by cEvin's dick once again, and he realizes he no longer has the option to run, if he even really wanted to at this point. Ogre looks him over multiple times like he's inspecting good meat, running his hands delicately over his body, sending light shivers down his spine. Meanwhile, he's nearly deepthroating cEvin again, having his head tilted this way and that, cEvin finding the right angle to fuck his face at. "There's a good boy," cEvin sighs, watching Bill's nose finally press into the thick hair at his base, drooling obediently around the large intrusion. Still gripping Bill's hair, he walks him backwards, away from the wall, and Bill can hear the way his breath hitches as he crawls along with him, like a dog being walked on a leash.

He soon realizes this was done for Ogre to satisfy himself. The moment he feels the other man behind him, hands diving right into his pants, he's back on his guard, cock nearly slipping from his mouth as he tries to turn and glare at him. cEvin keeps him in place. He pats him gently, stroking his face in a reassuring motion. The tightening grip on his hair lets Bill know he's close, so whatever Ogre's doing is tuned out as he grips cEvin's leg, begging him with his eyes not to cum down his throat. Unfortunately, cEvin isn't looking at him for once. He thrusts his hips into Bill's mouth once, twice, and then his dick shudders as he unloads exactly where Bill had hoped he wouldn't. Pulling his cock out is the nail in the coffin- Bill is left with a mouthful of hot cum that he's forced to swallow when cEvin pinches his cheeks. The taste makes him gag, but almost worse is the feeling of Ogre suddenly wiggling his fingers up his ass. Bill's arms give out, and his face hits the floor, entirely bent over now as he tries to grab at the man behind him. Ogre laughs. His fingers aren't dry, at least, but the feeling of getting speared open for the first time is rather bad. 

"It's okay," Ogre coos, kissing his shoulder. "I know it's your first. I'm being gentle." Bill wriggles, and Ogre attempts to hold him still, firmly, but not roughly. "Stay still," he whispers. "Don't move and relax. It's gonna feel okay." Bill doesn't believe him, but he doesn't have much of a choice. To his surprise, Ogre is right. Seconds after he goes limp and allows his body to untense, he finds himself whimpering at every movement Ogre's fingers make, cock jerking pitifully. The prodding and curling make his stomach flutter, and he's almost disappointed when the digits are removed shortly after. Bill is left hanging for a minute as he hears the sound of Ogre's zipper running.

He could escape. He could wriggle away and sprint out of here with his pants half down. It's what Bill had wanted in the beginning, wasn't it ? Now that he's hard, drool running down his chin, hole on display and waiting to be filled, he isn't totally sure what he wants anymore. cEvin worsens it by righting him, sitting him up on his haunches, face-to-face. They kiss again, with the same deepness as they had before; except this time, Bill's fingers scrabble at his chest as Ogre's cock slides into him. cEvin doesn't let him go, and Ogre holds him tightly by the waist, groaning quietly. He's sandwiched between the two, and the feeling isn't as discomforting as he'd initially thought.

Ogre starts slowly, but it isn't kind. His hips smack against his ass, and Bill's already leaning against cEvin's shoulder, moaning like a bitch. Ogre's face is buried in his shoulder, huffing and panting. Bill's back arches subconsciously. It feels good, he concludes, and a weird guilt twists in his gut. For what, he can't say. But he does know that the way Ogre's cock is hitting a specific spot inside him is bringing him to a high he's only ever brought himself to. He whines into cEvin's neck, and he can hear Ogre mumbling things he can't quite make out. cEvin offers another soft kiss on the lips.

"...cumming, 'm cumming..." is all Ogre has to say. Bill might be drooling on cEvin's shirt, but he isn't sure, slack-jawed and keening into his chest as his cock kicks, and his orgasm crashes into him like a truck. He's sure it's all over cEvin's leg, but that's what he gets for initiating this situation. Plus, that's nothing compared to Ogre finishing inside him, which actually feels worse than it did when cEvin came down his throat. Ogre fucks his load further into him just to finalize it, and then slips quietly out as he had in.

Bill is allowed to collapse to the floor then. He hears the two stand up and laugh to each other, debating over who owes who how much money. Ogre's load drips out of Bill's ass. It's gross. The post-orgasm clarity is not great. He feels sticky, and his stomach hurts. His entire body is tingling, and he wants to feel it again. His voice is probably fucked, though. He can't ask either of them for more by the time they leave, and the little scrap of pride he still has stops him anyway. He'll just lay here on the bad carpet. It's more comfortable than being squished between two warm men.