Vocalize And You Will Receive

Reader discretion is adviced, this story contain graphic content depicting violence and rape which may not be suitable to all readers. This is a fictional story and do not portray real events or real persons.

In the back of a crowded club, diligent eyes exist over the figures that move together. They're melted upon one another, as they shift around to whatever God-awful music plays. The beams of different colored lights flash in their respectful rotation over the crowd. It keeps his area dark and almost vacant.

The heat is lingering, and he's thankful that he pinned his hair up before coming out tonight. There is a slight impatience marking his actions. Something dry, and it fits the weather tonight. His eyes usually devour excitement, but right now, there isn't much to be taken.

With him, is a mood that isn't parallel to the ones that surround him. None of them will ever find it with him. Relationships, interests, morals—all that bland shit, those things are not identical with another person on Earth—other than, the man standing by his side, of course. The silver-haired man that goes by Ian; equivalent to such a thing.

The contrast in their styles has always been apparent. Ian fits something Gothic while Julian tends to dabble in the Skater scene. And drastic differences like those will only be found within that category, everything else is fairly similar. Like tonight, the pair wants the same thing and it's “bendable” to say the least, be that if either of their tastes changes for the night. And if it does, it is second nature—for the both of them—to fill in the mold either one presents.

And—as always—that pair sits courtside. They inhabit and feed off the ones that want to forget about their 9-5's, families—anything. No strings attached. That makes everything better, and surely, it can only be deemed as entertainment. Or rather, this is their addiction. It isn't morally right, but it's not as lethal as the addictions that the temporary occupants here have.

Aside from all of that, subtle anger is creeping with Julian now. Why is that though? Tonight, the vibe is skewed. The distinct taste of it has gone completely sour. Something is missing. Both of them felt it, there wasn't a need to speak of it. They could simply feel the difference.

They aren't the type to initiate the interaction, they come to them. Even if it's just with eye contact. It is rare for them to dwell in the same place for hours. But tonight's wait is irking—exaggerated really. Unfortunately, stubbornness is a trait they both wield. And with that, they aren't going to settle for an anticlimactic night.

Their first stop was a complete bust. The locations were only a few miles apart. But once having a fresh start here, nothing came—until now. It has been painfully stagnant, and maybe this is where it takes a turn?

Julian sees it. The stares aren't towards him but rather towards Ian, and he knows he is aware.

“That's the third time,” Julian speaks loud enough for Ian to pick it up.

And he does. But he is surprised by Julian's observation. Ian looks away from the man, who is dancing with the others in the crowd.

“Hmph.” Not much can be said. Although, that is only because he doesn't know where to go from here. There is uncertainty laced in Ian's thoughts. They aren't because he isn't willing but due to Julian's preferences.

Ian scans the entirety of the room again, there isn't much to see and it is (possibly) stale now. His eyes land back on the long-haired man as they both stare at each other again, this time the corners of his lips raise. The distance isn't a great one, so details like that are viewable from their position.

Julian sees the exchange. “Talk to him,” he says, scanning the vicinity of the club once more.

Ian raises an eyebrow but never turns to Julian. “You want a guy?” His lips hover over the rim of the glass.

“What's the difference? Plus we've done it before,” he shrugs.

He lowers his drink, faces Julian, and changes his demeanor. “You hated me for a month after the first one. Then you say you're okay with it but go on to-”

“Night's been lousy, let's just do it,” Julian interrupts. “Go talk to him.”

The command incites annoyance. Despite an eye roll and a low “fuck off” he fulfills the request.

“Well, that just means I'm hitting first then.” He takes down the rest of his drink before setting it over the counter. The clink of the glass drowns out but it's the final noise that marks that version of him.

There wasn't a response from Julian at the time of the comment. Even then, it would be lost in the loud music. Instead, he leans back, finding a better position to watch Ian intently.

He can pull bitches any day—possibly better than his counterpart. But he can admit that Ian has his way of doing things, and it's entertaining to see it play out. Also said target is a male this time around. Which is second nature to Ian since he doesn't see gender. Julian on the other hand does care for it.

Yes, the initial instance with one was different and a first for him. The second—although time apart—was better. but it wasn't something he'd prefer. The third time came around—back in Cincinnati, and that night was memorable. Although he never let Ian know about it because the reaction would be never-ending. It was better to subtly pick up on other guys, like now.

It had its benefits, their options doubled and it was easier.

Julian keeps his eyes centered over Ian as he makes his way into the heavy crowd. The light shines over him for a brief second and he blends in perfectly.

Once Ian steps over the floor and heads towards the dancing figure, his demeanor shifts into something alluring and possibly unique. Confidence is brewing. He knows he isn't like the rest of the crowd. That's why this guy had been staring at him, wanting the acknowledgment of Ian. He's interesting, good-looking and his vibe is just different. And those labels weren't put on by himself, the various people he has had around him gave him those definitions.

He slides right behind him. Ian's body is perfectly in sync with his. Instantly, he can feel the way the stranger’s body accepts his own. The tactics are smooth and they just click; fitting in or rather “mimicking”. These plain actions are easy, and it comes with the personality.

The stranger is much shorter. His hair, long, curly, and dark. Concisely, the neon lights switch in motion. That sequence lives between the bends of his hair and the silk of his dress shirt. The glow makes him appealing up close. The man leans his body into Ian’s, and it feels just fucking right over his dick. He can already feel the intoxication of his senses as he presses into the man. His hands drag up gently across his chest. Soon the smaller man’s hands fall over Ian’s to guide him down to his thighs.

The actions are bold, he knows that the stranger isn’t one to stall. Ian gives him what he wants. His open-palmed hands drag along the denim. A low moan comes from the man, it’s subtle and more of a rumble from pressing up to him, but he catches it. And that can only be the approval he was looking for.

He smiles a little wider and leans in closer, close enough to whisper, “come home with me.” It’s not a question, the tone he uses makes it known.

And although Ian can’t properly see the man in front of him, a couple of aspects stand out when he turns to look at him. His hair flips with his quick movement, shine slides down it. A daring smile is over him and his lashes are long; he’s pretty.

“I don’t think you can afford me,” he giggles. His voice isn’t, particularly what he was expecting. It’s slightly deep and raspy.

Ian knows what he is hinting at. It isn't money but rather a substance. The rules of what goes on here are unwritten but everyone knows them, this is more of a ritual for Ian and Julian. Luckily, it's their specialty to carry such “passes”. Apart from that, it's common courtesy to offer something in return if you're going to fuck them.

“What makes you say that?” Ian responds while a smile forms.

The man's smile forms too, deepening his view over Ian. A tattooed hand dives into his right pocket to pull out a small pouch of blue, round pills. Waving them slightly, a suggestive look with an arched brow is given to the small man.

Ian can see the change in the man’s eyes. “My name’s Nova. What's yours?” His arms slither around his neck, pressing close enough to feel the heat of his body. It’s always a treat seeing the lengths people will go for a few pills. To Ian, this is the best part--aside from the sex, of course.

“Ian,” he responds. “C'mon, I'll give you a free trial,” he motions towards the bathroom, and Nova nods, but stops suddenly. “What about your friend?”

Ian turns to look at Julian. “That's my brother but don't worry about him.”

Nova nods then gives his attention back to Ian as they make their way through the now dying crowd. He then signals Julian while they pass by him, Nova is unaware of the quick exchange.

As soon as they disappear into the bathroom, Julian slips past everyone and heads towards the exit.

The night is—although scorching—calm. The leaves from the palm trees rustle gently between the hot winds. Gravel shifts and peaks an unforgettable tone under his black and white Chuck Taylor's.

The car-less streets from the neighbouring highway is his concentration as he leans over their black Chevy Impala. There isn't a need to spark a cigarette, he knows Ian works quickly and never lets him down.

////

They walk into the bathroom. It's dim with grime all over. Various graffiti tags coat the mirrors, walls, and stalls. Surprisingly, it’s empty—not that it matters. He wasn’t planning on fucking Nova here. Although the thought did seem appealing, it would match the whole club thing. But he needed Julian here with him.

As soon as they walk in, Nova stops Ian. “I hope you don’t mind, I’m 29,” he speaks quietly; peaking some sensuality as he bats his lashes. His cheeks are rosy and his smile is a little lopsided from an earlier intoxication (that is definitely wearing off now).

That shocks Ian, more than a little as well. 29? There is no way he is that old.

Ian can easily see through his intentions with his statement, he wants validation from his old age. He knows he looks good, knows that he can pull younger dudes which is what he has done now with Ian. He’s 22 and Julian, 21. And Nova knows that Ian is younger of course. He must do this often; must live off of the compliments too. And fuck, he was willing to feed him.

“‘Course not, you look fuckin’ amazing,” he speaks lowly, while his eyes run down his body then center over his pretty little face. He deserves the praise, and with that Nova’s features brighten up.

Once in the stall, Ian wastes no time in pulling out the clear bag. He holds one of the measly narcotics that has most of these idiots chained down. Standing in front of him; impatient, is the epitome of such a thing. Ian hands over the pill, he takes it and turns around as a smile grows.

In a swift movement, he drops to his knees. The curls around him flow with the action, like soft feathers, they fall in place to drape over his figure.

All that is left now, is to watch. The light in here exists for this very purpose. The floors, the drugs, the feel, it is all for Nova. For this stranger that he is so enamored with. The silhouette of Nova’s kneeling body is broken and crooked over the tiles. Ian watches Nova with intensity, the energy he emits is undeniable and can easily be categorized. He’s been here, done this before; a natural, and shit, is it admirable. He is a work of art, and he has no realization of it.

A sound breaks his trance, it isn’t ugly or pretty, it floats in any category that it wants. Although reality sits in “delay”, the sound is that of Nova snorting his second line of Roxy.

“Fuck! That shit pure.” His voice is the second breaker—ultimately what drags him back to reality, and the task. Tired eyes drag up his spine and rest over the last line that is over the toilet seat.

He takes pride in the product Julian and him deal. “Yep, it is,” he says while Nova downs the final one.

He gets back up. He stays stiff, possibly from being light-headed. Ian quickly takes a hold of him, pushing him up to the stall. It’s rough, he can admit. Although Nova doesn’t seem to mind or the narcotic is starting to occupy his system. He’s zoned out, blankly staring at nothing, really. And with that, he is easy; vulnerable to anything.

Sick intentions—well Ian’s entire self is vivid with them, and to be acted on such a beautiful “participant”. Tonight is going to be memorable. It’s a plus that he gets to share it with his brother, Julian. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

“That expensive enough for you, slut?” It starts here, the degradation. The sudden switch to his original version.

He has him pinned down if he tries to pull a fast one without paying up then Ian will surely have the upper hand.

He quickly nods. “Fuck yeah.”

“A'ight, just one more thing, baby.” Ian pulls away, his silver hair falls back to its original place. Nova’s face is completely red, his eyes dazed and if he doesn’t understand what is going on, then that’s on him because this is going to happen no matter what.

But there is a sense of knowing that Nova will follow through with everything that will be asked of him. The look he has conveys that reality.

“My brother gotta hit too.” There is a slight change in his face, yet Ian can't tell if it's from excitement or if he is second-guessing the whole thing.

But he is willing to bet that he wants it more than ever, that it is better to have attention from two guys rather than one.

“You cool with that, Nova?” He asks, his teeth digging into his neck to force out the answer—and possibly to convince him.

“O-kay,” he squirms underneath Ian.

-

He's already a stumbling mess but Ian makes sure to hold him tightly as they walk back out to the atmosphere that is alive.

The instances where he holds someone who staggers, mouths out nonsense, or even tries to pull away (all while peaking their high of course), is at the point where his experience is at the highest caliber. A number of girls or guys always made it from said destination to Ian and Julian's refuge without any issues.

Always.

Never did one instance go awry. And it is due to the lack of care from others. Not that it is a topic to complain about. It is comical, truly, that everyone had at one point switched over to an egotistical moron.

Hell, even the person they get for the night, so truthfully, they deserve this.

Ian looks down as they walk towards the exit. Nova's fingers dig into his turtle neck as he carefully steps to Ian's pace.

Again, it made things easier.

They finally make it outside and Ian directs their walk towards Julian, who simply looks over at them.

“Drive.” In a quick motion, Ian shoves the keys to the Impala onto Julian's chest. He ignores the idiocy and boasting behavior Ian is emitting.

All he cares about now is the smaller man that his brother has around his arms. He wonders if the night is worth the fuck.

With a look so lost as he wanders from different phases of existence. Registering a single thing might be out of the question but who knows. Apart from that, the dude's pretty, better up close too. Body-wise, he's lacking. However, he is more than enough.

Julian unlocks the car before Ian pulls Nova into the back seat with him.

“Damn, this is a nice car,” he giggles as he gets closer to Ian.

“You like it?” The arm circling around those shivering shoulders isn't missing.

“Mhm,” he hums while Ian leans in closer to kiss his neck.

As his fingers drag up Nova's side, it's hard to not want to do him in the backseat while Julian drives.

“We made of money,” he laughs at the same time he furthers the notion of their reality over Nova; to get him hooked completely or to convey their image thoroughly.

And he knows Nova likes it. The way he tilts his head back, and lets his body relax; all to be touched and groped. Those exist as the degrees of whoring yourself out for an exchange of a little luxury.

And truthfully, he may just spend more on him. If he asks for something—after they fuck—then it is possible. Maybe Julian wouldn't like the idea now. But once he gets his hands on him, he’ll feel the same way.

“Shit, that feels-” There is an abrupt pause, and to substitute is a whine croaking from his throat. Delicately, his hands hold Ian’s chest as he moans, “g—ood.”

“Yeah?” Ian smiles over the bite after pulling away. “Where ya from, baby?” His hands slither across Nova’s thighs; feeling the torn denim under his palms. He can't wait to strip him out of that shit.

“Cali.”

“Shit. That's far. What'cha doin' all the way out here?”

“Visiting family. Are you guys from here?”

“Yeah,” Julian quickly replies before letting Ian answer something stupid.

And it's crucial. Ian has tried to convince Julian that anyone they pick up is “high out of their mind” so they won't remember. Yeah, that can be so but they can’t take their chances. It's better to play it safe and lie.

“Florida boys,” Ian contributes after pulling away from Nova's neck.

Despite watching the roads, he has been listening to their interaction closely. It isn't an annoyance that Ian is kissing and sucking on Nova’s skin. As long as the mother fucker didn't get spit all over the seats.

As always the similarities ran deep but patience isn't marked strongly on Ian’s mind. Julian knows that he has a horrible tendency to wait. So hands start to roam while teeth make contact with skin.

And it's fine but Julian might just value the Impala more than Ian’s lame impulse. As for the randoms, they definitely aren't worth ruining anything for, not when it comes to their cars.

-

All this time, they both noticed how Nova never took in his surroundings. He simply entered with no hesitation, he probably doesn't even know what part of Florida they're in right now.

Now Julian is in the hallway entrance with Nova leering over him.

“Shit,” he smiles. “You’re handsome,” he bites his lip while his hands smooth around Julian’s chest.

He stares down at him, an appeal is definitely rising. He chuckles quietly as his own hands drag down the small of his back and grab Nova’s ass.

“You think I can have another hit?” He pouts while purposely pushing his body into Julian’s, as well as encouraging the behavior of the younger man.

A smile forms over Julian, knowing he likes this certain attitude, and how it is typical of a whore. “Course, anything you want.” He grabs Nova’s hand to take him to the living room.

“Ian, give our friend another round,” he calls out for his brother, who had been fixing himself a drink at a makeshift counter.

“Easy on ‘em,” Ian mumbles while he passes over the bag. Indicating that he may go overboard with a couple more, then again, Nova’s tolerance can be anywhere.

Julian hands over the pills and he—again—wastes no time in dropping to his knees by the coffee table. Nova desperately picks up a random bottle to crush the pills. As Julian watches him, he drops to his knees behind Nova.

“Slow down, baby. You don't wanna die.” Nova hesitates before giggling and nodding gradually. Although, Julian is certain that he doesn't entirely comprehend what is being said because he proceeds at the exact pace to snort them.

Julian disregards it and simply lets him do what he wants now. His hands run up and down his back as he watches him take that shit down like it's nothing.

He feels up his thighs then his hands travel to his ass to smooth around as he brings his hips up to him.

“Shit, that's nice,” Julian says, body full of heat as he continues to roam his body.

“You like it, baby?” He bites his lip as he looks back at Julian with half-lidded eyes and a sloppy smile. “It's all yours,” he giggles again while finishing up the remaining lines.

And despite his clothing, Julian can feel his growing erection poke through as he dry humps Nova from behind.

He's slightly moaning while Julian leans into him to move on to the next step in all of this. “C’mere,” Julian mumbles into his ear.

Ian walks back over to them and Nova is standing now too but swaying as his eyes paint a high that makes anything seem morally right.

Open palms run down Julian's groin as he sinks to his knees between the two. He meets both of their eyes to make sure that all the attention is completely given to him. And that's all they're willing to do now. It's rare to find someone who caters to both of them so well.

Ian’s hand strokes his hair then he roughly pushes Nova’s head towards his dick. He wastes no time—like he did with the pills—to swallow Ian's entire length in a second. His quick tactics are to be admired. He simply took it without gagging, and it's easy to know why.

His free hand comes up to Julian's aching cock to stroke it a few times before he alternates with his mouth to his.

He can take two—possibly more—effortlessly. And he loves it; made for this, even. As he licks and sucks the underside of Julian's cock and stroke's Ian's simultaneously.

Another thing that is standing out as he blows them, us the making of eye contact but his brown eyes appear foggy, so lost in a translation of sex and substance. And it placed him in the terrible hands of Julian and Ian. His knees now know the depth of a dingy carpet of a 10-day rental condo. There is significant breakage in Nova’s mind, there has to be, because from a bystander view, it isn't normal to be drugged in a bathroom and pulled out to strangers’ car, to be taken into an unknown location, and especially to suck them off in return.

Yet, Ian knows that he needs to do more than a blow job to poise out the trade. Truthfully, Nova wasn't near hurting their lineage of supply, not even if he consumed ten times the amount. But they're grimy, never loose with their inventory, additionally, nothing ever comes for free.

As asserted, Julian lets Ian go at it first like he called for at the club.

“Alright, bitch,” Ian speaks up as he points towards the couch behind Nova. “On it.”

Julian steps back, a smile creasing his lips as he begins to roll a joint over the coffee table but at the same time he keeps his eyes over the entertainment. He takes a seat over the other couch with his now-lit blunt.

Fucking said person together is always a treat but they can agree that watching it is a whole lot better. Of course, it isn't anything new to be “tagged in” or to stick their cock down the person’s throat while they're getting fucked.

But not right now. Julian wants to see every expression that Nova makes. He wants to know how he takes it.

His knees dip into the couch’s pillows and his elbows perch over the armrest all while Ian grips his waist and spits down. His fingers rub his asshole once and then twice before spitting down again. There's a slight chill running down Nova's body, it makes Julian feel some type of way.

“Fuck, f–uck,” he cries, face red as Ian fucks him mercilessly, grey hair swings around him as he doesn't slow down.

He moans into the armrest, his teeth dig into the fabric as do his nails.

“Fuckin’ slut,” Ian says roughly through grit teeth.

Brutal. Ian’s display can only be classified as such. Perfectly, he crosses boundaries without the terrible repercussions. He asserts himself with anyone they bring home, and ultimately, he lets them know their place.

To Julian, it’s a complete fucking turn-on watching his brother destroy the dumb broad. The sound of their skin slapping, Ian’s grunts, and Nova’s consistent whines make the visual complete.

His fingers grab Nova’s curls into a mess as he pulls back roughly. His face is red as if he isn't able to breathe. But Ian knows that he’s loving it. He knows it's the best dick he's ever had. And he did right in picking out Ian from everyone else in that shitty club.

He pulls out of him, they're both panting heavily, but Nova’s shaking, looking around as if he has completely forgotten where he is. But what does that matter to Ian now? He's satisfied; got his and now he’s feening for a smoke.

The idea of fucking anyone that Ian fucked quickly became an ethical to him; a habit.

He gets up, walks to the dazed Nova, and runs a hand down his hair. The actions make the older man smile, it's sloppy and parallel to the condition he's in.

Julian's actions take a gentle turn with Nova (as he does most of the time but this may be a new version of its kind). This is soft and delicate as his hands move Nova off the couch so Julian can lay flat on his back over the couch.

“C’mere, baby,” he breathes out with care while reaching out to weave his fingers with Nova’s.

Other times he does tend to use force, maybe even some degradation but nothing that matches the cynical acts of Ian. Yet, this time as he stares at Nova’s flushed face who is stumbling but manages to crawl over Julian (with assistance) he can't help but feel a sort of warmth for him.

There is something that satisfies Julian's vulgar hunger when slipping his dick inside of someone who Ian just came inside of. The way it feels around his dick, warm, sloppy, wet, and sticky. The sound that is produced when Nova brings himself onto Julian with shakey exhales.

Julian watches the curls bounce around Nova's frame when his body is repeatedly brought down over his dick.

Sloppy and wet. Shit’s the best. Especially knowing that part of Ian is inside of him.

His fingers slide up Nova's stomach and chest. He wants to feel all of him. Feel his warmth, transfer it onto him. His fingers brush over Nova's nipples making him moan.

His hand grabs his shoulder to pull him down into a kiss as his other hand strokes Nova's cock. A string of moans come from him as they kiss, at times he pulls away to catch his breath and the visual is everything he's ever dreamt of.

It's strange in a way.

Nova pulls upwards His hand had replaced Julian's at one point. It isn't long before he comes.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he slowly says with a light giggle but he's ultimately lost. Too caught up in what sits profound in his mind, and that can be anything.

Generally, he would never allow for this certain thing. “No, don't worry about it,” Julian responds, tone dripping in sweetness.

The fingers that sought out every inch of Nova’s hot and damp skin came up to move the curls. He’s gentle as he skims through his hair once again; all to see his pretty, round face.

It has been difficult to pull raw emotions from Julian, but Nova is picking them up and flaunting them—he isn't even aware.

“It was hot,” he reassures him once again with a smile as he cleans the come off his stomach with his shirt.

“Has anyone told you that you could be a pornstar?” Ian says while looping his arm around Nova’s neck to forcefully push his smaller body into him.

“Yeah, you took it like a pro, baby,” Julian laughs, agreeing. Although, he did wish the moment he was having with Nova would’ve lasted longer. But he isn't pushing it, if Ian thinks that it's time to move on then he will too.

Nova laughs too as his fingers come up to his face, “I wouldn't mind.”

“Yeah? Well, we’ll be your starter project. Me and my brother finna make you a star,” Ian laughs while helping Nova get up and guiding him to the bedroom.

Nova isn't sure of what's going on. At one point he was mumbling something about leaving but Julian interrupted him with a kiss and a slight push onto the bed.

Further words didn't come as they lay in the same bed.

Pressing a kiss to his warm cheek. Nova smiles as he hugs Ian and digs his face into his chest all while Julian wraps his arms around Nova's waist.

This is the affectionate side that only few people got to see, and it simply lasts for a few hours—till the morning.

Their legs are a tangled mess as they fall asleep.

----

He's fucked up but not enough to listen in on the slight movement that is coming from the living room. Ian turns to the right and sees the empty spot between him and Julian.

He blinks a few times, runs a hand down his face before realizing that those careful and delicate movements are from Nova in the living room.

Strange, he thinks. He never gave the broad permission to just get up and go. Not without a proper goodbye. Shit. He owes them that after all the shit they fed him.

He gets up quietly and makes his way towards the living room. Before stepping out he put on whatever clothes had been lying around.

He spots Nova in the middle of the living room, hands delicately pulling his shirt on as if he were trying to keep quiet.

“What’re you doing?” Attentive eyes and a smile accompany the question.

Because of last night’s binge, there isn’t much of a response other than a mumble of mixed-up words. This—of course—doesn't please Ian.

“What are you doing?” The question is harsher as he repeats himself then walks over to him.

He stops. “Uh, I'm leaving.”

“You’re not.”

“What?” The word is clear, his composure is rooted to the foundation of being stable; confrontational. It’s a second of pure disbelief, Ian can see it all over his face. And as the time dilutes into a multitude of seconds, Nova's expression turns over to a scowl.

The start of what he is creating makes him want to laugh, the amusement is matching what they did last night—although, this can drag into something even better.

A small hand comes up to Ian's chest to make room. “Get out of my way.” His stare is intent but that is only topping the layers of fear and the small tremor of his fingers.

Ian stops him, tightly taking a hold of his wrist. Nova's face is full of shock. All the color from his cheeks leaves on cue of the action. Ian spots the hesitation over his lips—not only that but the immense uncertainty in his big eyes as well.

“What are you doing?” Eventually, he congregates a tangible sentence—a question, rather. Ian has no intention of answering it of course. He pulls back in a tugging motion but Ian doesn't budge. Not only is the next step marked by the fluctuation of his vocals but by the actions he perpetrates as well.

Nova's expression shifts once again. “Look kid, this isn't personal. Last night was great but I ain't lookin' for nothin' long-term.” That has to be the most he's spoken since meeting him. It's impressive, Ian thinks. But his voice is breaking, and he can tell that Nova switched the tone to lighten the situation. But that shit never works, not even with Julian.

Again, Ian doesn't answer, he just keeps staring down at him.

In the other room, Julian drifts back into reality from his heavy slumber. Although annoyed, he listens to what interrupted his sleep. Tired eyes close a few times before registering the voices from afar.

Walking into the living room while yawning, Julian's eyes set over Ian and Nova. Ian doesn't need to explain what is going on.

“What's he talking about?” He asks, voice completely groggy and deep. Despite knowing the dynamics of the situation, he needs to know where to pick it up from after he came to interrupt.

The corners of Ian's lips tug upwards and his eyes stare at Julian with a look that yells for him to come over and join him.

“Well,” he says in a low tone while he raises his eyebrows briefly. Grey eyes constantly keep their gaze over Nova's patterned breathing. The hands that he holds himself with are shaking. His figure is swaying slightly all while he stares at the carpet beneath them.

At one point (possibly when Julian arrived) the tight grip of his wrist was released. The daunting figure that is Ian loves that the frightened Nova didn't make a move to push past him again. And now that Julian arrived, the chances are at the bottom of the ocean.

“Our lil' Nova wants to leave us.”

Ian's hand comes up to stroke Nova's cheek but he retaliates, stepping back what little he can. “Stop it. Don't touch me.” His words lean towards a breakdown now.

The onyx hair that was once pinned up is now hanging and moving freely around Julian's frame. As of last night, his favorite spot became that of pressing up against Nova from behind.

There's a shift in his energy, not what Julian witnessed last night. No, his soul resonates with the entities of his own and his brother. The scent that floats around is new. As if he were embedded in Ian’s every aspect, and he likes that in fact, he appreciates it; knows that he can find home in a stranger.

“Oh God, did we do something wrong?” The question is sardonic—yet, the tone used is melodious.

“No,” he stops when Julian's fingers delicately run down his abdomen. Ian watches the way Nova's frantic eyes follow Julian's movements. He stumbles over his words again, then swallows hard, and tries to continue, “just—I just need to go,” he manages to complete his cut up sentence.

“Why? Aren't you happy here? Isn't this fun?” Julian quickly shoots back. The touch over the older man is now a hug from behind, he digs his face into Nova's curly hair.

“Don't do this. I'll repay you…for the drugs, please?” he sputters, hands clutching Julian's arms in a tremble.

“Yeah? How you gon’ do that? Them pills worth more than you,” Ian replies while pushing a single finger roughly into Nova’s chest.

“No, I mean money. I’ll pay the both of you for all of them. More even.” There's a genuine feel to his plea but it won't deteriorate their intentions.

“Already got enough of that,” Julian mumbles over Nova’s neck.

“What do you think we should do with him?” Ian speaks up again, this time his eyes crawl all over Nova’s body.

“Maybe pop one in his skull,” he continues to suggest while that same hand that was brought over Nova’s chest redirects onto his forehead in the shape of a make-shift gun. The sudden eye-widening reaction from the older man ingrains a deep smile.

“Please...p-please, do-n’t kill me.”

Ian smiles, “ya hear that? This fag doesn't wanna die.”

Julian only hums in response while still being so enamoured with Nova; he never wants to let go of him.

“Make yourself useful then,” Ian replies as he takes a seat on the couch. “Entertain us.”

At the peak of his words, Julian lets go of him and joins Ian on the couch.

“How?” The way he speaks now is completely broken, no clear version of him is sure to make an appearance.

Grey eyes run up and down Nova's body slowly. The memory of him under the neon-lights fills his mind. He slightly nods and smiles. “Why don't you show my brother how good of a dancer you are?” he suggests—although it is a demand of course.

Nova doesn't say a thing nor does he nod in agreement. Simply, he keeps his tarnished view over the stained carpet. With eyes welling up and hot cheeks brushing a pink tint, he inhales harshly. It is as if he is going over his actions—or simply thinking of how to play this out in order to survive—in his head.

He pulls his hair back, and slowly begins moving his hips. To possibly attain the smallest affection of last night's scenery, he closes his eyes. A single hand runs down his body.

But it's boring and bland for Ian. Julian finds it a little interesting, there's potential; no doubt if the setting was right.

“Take off your clothes,” Ian loudly interjects.

The hesitation is marked by muscles tensing up and a significant slice in his breathing. They watch as he follows through. Shaky fingers pinch at the collar of his dress shirt, they slide down to the first button to pop it. Slowly, he works his way down the entire lineup of buttons.

The actions he administers are robotic. They are most noticeable when he pulls the dress shirt down. It sits at the nook of his arms for a second. He extends his arms and it slips off like water.

He sways his hips in a motion that is inconsistent and a little sloppy. It isn't identical to the way his body was freely moving in the club last night. But of course, there isn't a way for him to pick that form back up with this.

“Come closer,” Julian instructs him, and although it sits neutral, it is willing to drop into anger if he disobeys. Yet, Julian can tell that Nova knows better than that. His view is down but still, he finds a spot between Julian's legs.

Ian leans back onto the couch and watches Julian's delicate hands brush against his stomach, still thinking that El is being far too generous with him. If this instance didn't involve his brother, then he'd have Nova's face all over the rough carpet, and possibly with a broken bone or two from a hit. But he keeps it calm, for Julian.

Readjusting his hair, Julian gently presses his face into the older man's skin. His lips fan over his warm flesh.

A single finger drags up Nova's side. “Y'know, I think I speak for both of us when I say that we're tired of lookin' for someone new every night.” The words make Nova go tense. Both of them can see the immense fear on his face. And the only thing that can be given from such a reaction is laughter.

While providing a double-take, Ian tilts his head to truly evaluate his worth. “I don't know, J. Do we really want an old, used-up bitch?” He emphasizes the insult towards the end—to really give it that bang. Or rather to build up what's to come.

Nova doesn't speak, instead, he begins to shake more now. His thoughts must be quick, uncontrollable, and indistinguishable.

“Yeah, you're right. But we ain't gotta keep him forever,” Julian says, his voice gets quiet as he concentrates over Nova's body. “He's still got potential and once we take that away, we can throw ‘em out.” His fingers gently paw at the waistband of his boxers.

“Would you like that, Nova?” Ian asks. His tone matches the enthusiasm of speaking to one's dog.

“I need to go home.” A silent stutter slips from his trembling lips. “Please.” His words only tumble deeper into desperation.

“I think you don't,” Julian replies sternly but his view isn't on his pretty, flushed face but rather Nova's dick.

He palms it down; genuinely enjoying the feel of it, and a slight erection from being touched in such a way.

He pulls him out and the stupid slut’s actually getting hard from it. They both know that it isn't the fact that he's truly liking it but rather because he's old and a whore and possibly his body can't tell the difference anymore.

He'd never thought he would be doing this to another man. But Nova is something much more, he's special and Julian wants to give him everything.

Even Ian sits back amazed at the actions of Julian. He can't help but chuckle a little. He's always been right and a “I told you so” is definitely going to be rubbed in his face later.

A smile creeps over Julian’s lips although it’s hard to define how great the excitement he feels now but his next move surely reveals its characteristics. “I wanna watch you fuck him before we leave.” It’s common for either of them to ask for such a thing. And the other--of course--isn’t the type to argue.

In that same moment, Ian bites his lip and on the other end, Nova stays stagnant with growing fear.

“Not here. On the bed,” Julian adds as he throws Nova off of him. And it's the first instance where a set of aggression is in attendance from Julian.

Ian nods and gets up while holding Nova’s arm.

Following behind them is Julian, greedy and ready to take everything in. Before slipping on the bed with them he grabs something that will take the situation to the highest level of excitement—or rather to mark a remembrance of tonight.

Ian pushes Nova onto his back over the comforters. Any act to escape is now drained as he stays put. Ian climbs on top of him, a pink pill is in between his fingers.

Nova, at this point, has no energy to look at them. He simply is turned away as tears slip over the soft surface. But it's back to them when Ian’s hand roughly grabs and forces Nova’s mouth open to drop the pill in. “This’ll make ya feel good, baby,” he says as he closes his mouth.

“C’mon, swallow it.” His hands hold him down roughly leaving Nova no choice but to obey.

Ian undresses as he positions himself in the middle of Nova’s legs. Again he wastes no time to go back inside of him, the brutal energy from last night is transferring over as he pins Nova down and thrusts into him.

He cries out trying to keep his voice down, they can both tell. Julian watches with pure joy and enthusiasm. Yet, in his hand is a pair of pliers (meant for cutting metal) and they'll be called in when the time is right.

His breaths are steady. As he tries to sit up but is only pushed back down by Ian. And he’s mumbling something while sweating profusely, and possibly in fear that the pill is making his heart’s beat slow down.

It’s a first-time thing.

As Ian keeps going, Julian grabs Nova’s hand tightly. He holds it close to his face, even places a light kiss over it. But ultimately, he interwinds his fingers with his as he watches him get fucked.

He can't help but admire him. The way his body reacts to everything. The way his back arches when Ian pushes himself deep inside of him. And the way his curls are placed around him so neatly.

“Do it,” Ian mouths out over Nova’s hair. “Fuck, do it.”

And the thing he wants--needs--are Nova’s yells.

And right when the cold metal pushes against his flesh, his finger wants to curl up but Julian is quick, quicker than Nova’s instincts. Truthfully, they must’ve been delayed from the sedative.

And it's a single snap, a single pop, and the stagnant in-and-out of consciousness is put on hold as a loud shriek follows through.

“Scream for me, bitch,” Ian mumbles into Nova's chest as he quickens his pace and his nails stab into his wrist.

The loud yells and whines that occupy the condo are like nothing they've ever heard before. He must think that if he yells loud enough someone will come but that will never be. Additionally, he tries to pull away from Julian’s grip but he doesn't allow it.

He screams again but it's dying down, slurring between words of desperation. And it's enough to get him off, to come inside of him once again. When that does arrive Nova is motionless over the pillows, finally out of it.

He digs his face into Nova's wet neck. He breathes out slowly to align his breathing. “Fuck, always so good, baby.” It’s sadistic.

A heavy hand from Julian runs down Nova's thigh while Ian is still in between him. Once at his knee, he backs up and slides off the bed. He pulls his hair back to properly see what is being displayed over the covers. A sweet feeling mixes with a morbid one seeing the bloodstain under Nova's hand, his pinky next to it, and his sweat-soaked body along with Ian's as they're still tangled together.

It's appealing to have a go at it while Nova is passed out (as they've had in the past) but time is running out. Right now, the objective is to leave.

“Clean him up. I'll pack,” Julian states while clearing his throat.

“We'll catch a smoke before leaving.” He pats himself down in search of his wraps but quickly remembers their last location.

“Yeah,” Ian nods slowly. Tattooed fingers come up to wipe his lips as he watches Nova's body, then he smiles over at Julian.

-

“Here. Pullover,” Ian points out towards an area with heavy bushes and dry ground.

Julian pulls onto the side of the road smoothly. His eyes stay trained over the rear-view mirrors.

The sun is only starting to make its appearance, which painfully limits their time. Although, not one car has been sighted since driving up here. Naturally, that is calming and makes for their work to be executed properly.

They both step out and Ian hurriedly opens the right back seat door all while Julian keeps watching the empty roads.

There's a dense thud from Nova's body dropping to the ground. A string of mumbled curse words follows from Ian. Julian rushes over, annoyed, “careful, dumbass.”

He eyes Nova’s body that is now cocooned in a white sheet, a dark red stain is on the bottom right side.

“Fuck off,” Ian fires back while grabbing his body and dragging him down the dirt.

Julian watches the road again, then watches Ian get back up and get back in the car. He does the same.

“You think he won't die or some shit?” He says as he starts the car.

In response, Ian rolls his eyes at the concern Julian has for the dumb broad. “Eh.” He shrugs while leaning back into the seat.

“It's a busy highway, they'll find him later in the day,” he continues as he lights one of the backwoods that is stored in the glove box.

There isn't any response but a nod and a hum of agreement as he keeps his eyes trained over the rear-view mirror.

Ian is right.

The silver-haired man blows the smoke out into the hot Florida winds as they reach the inner section, and Julian watches the leaves shake in the mirror for the last time.

- Alternate Ending -

And the lights shift. It's been—possibly—two hours now. Julian couldn't tell, it isn't necessary to know. His fingers swipe down Nova's curls again. The act could've been annoying but to a sleeping man, it's nothing.

Briefly, he eyes Ian, who is concentrating over the street. Much of a conversation hasn't been pulled but that's normal for them. They're both looking forward to their “souvenir”.

He's delicate and appreciative while he's asleep, Ian had commented. Words so pretty as if he hadn't invoked pain earlier today; made him cry until he passed out. Even though Julian agrees with what he said.

His hand holds Nova's bandaged up fingers as he watches the highway.

The streets become familiar; he's in the back seat, Nova's head is over his lap as he holds him. And everything will never be the same.

They're okay with that.

Julian leans his head over the cool glass. It’s that same weather that always hovers over Cincinnati, leaving it dark, wet, cold but it’s welcoming.