Flying High (Halle/Tieria/Alle, RSA 'verse)
Index/Timeline
This story takes place in the same universe as Research Subjects Anonymous. You should probably go re-read that first!
Hallelujah takes Allelujah to the club at least once a week. Not the club where Allelujah dances for money, but a different club. A gay club, with more men than Hallelujah can shake a stick at, and a few women scattered here and there. It's a hole-in-the-wall place, but it's been in operation for longer than Hallelujah has been alive.
Once a month Allelujah is allowed to take a drug of his choosing when they go out, whatever the fuck he wants is okay because Hallelujah isn't about to let him get addicted to anything other than Hallelujah's cock; this month he's chosen Ecstasy. Finding it pure was a fuck-ton more difficult than finding it in general and ended up taking an extra week, but it is worth it. Hallelujah's not going to give his brother anything but exactly what Allelujah asks for, and it's not like he needs uppers.
Allelujah takes his pill in the bathroom then splashes water on his hair and shakes his head like a dog. Fucking gorgeous, Hallelujah thinks, and slides a finger through Allelujah's belt loop. He pushes approval into Allelujah's mind as he pulls gently at the loop, making the jeans shift down no more than a centimeter. But it's more than enough; now the thong he's wearing is just barely showing above the hem of the skintight jeans, like a tease.
"Aren't you forgetting something?" Hallelujah purrs, softly as he dares with the pulse of the music penetrating even the tiled walls of the bathroom. He leans close to Allelujah, not giving a fuck about the other people who might or might not be watching.
In a smooth movement, Allelujah reaches down and pulls his shirt off. He hands it to Hallelujah, and Hallelujah forces it part of the way through the side belt loop. Absently he thinks of more water, but then discards the idea; Allelujah will be covered in sweat soon, thanks to the E.
Hallelujah catches one of Allelujah's hands and leads him out and back onto the dance floor. It's still early enough that there's plenty of space to dance, and Allelujah does, gyrating his hips and holding his arms above his head. His steps are light, flighty, and Hallelujah can't help diving into Allelujah's mind and drinking in the pleasure at dancing, at moving, at the people watching him.
People can't help noticing that Hallelujah and Allelujah are twins, what with their identical haircuts and identical faces, except for the mismatched eyes. There are guys on them in less than a minute, a brunet grinding his hips against Hallelujah's, the closeness of his dancing all the more significant in the comparatively open space.
Allelujah looks over at Hallelujah when another guy starts to grind him, and Hallelujah just gives a feral grin. He can feel Allelujah's shiver like it's his own and delights in it even as the blond dancing next to Allelujah gets closer.
They're no fucking threat, Hallelujah knows. They can't do the things that Hallelujah can. Just momentary distractions. He turns to his own distraction and dances, playing the submissive role for all its worth, letting the thrum of the music go through his body, his senses, like a brainwave except this is the type everyone can hear.
He and Allelujah lose themselves in the dancing for a time. Long enough that Hallelujah takes off his own sweat-soaked shirt. Long enough that one time when Hallelujah glances over at his brother, Allelujah is touching his dancing partner, rubbing his hands on the guy's face and more rubbing himself against the guy in time with the music than dancing. Allelujah has a grin on his face like it's the best feeling in the world, and Hallelujah thinks to himself, show time.
Getting over to Allelujah is somewhat of a problem; in the forty-five minutes or so since they started dancing the floor has become crowded. But Hallelujah's had a year of navigating crowded dance clubs to accustom himself to the right and wrong way to get through a pack danced floor.
Hallelujah grabs Allelujah's hand and pulls him away from the distraction and off of the floor. The first thing Allelujah says--shouts, really--is "Drymouth." He gives an even dopier grin than he had on the dance floor, and Hallelujah kisses him for his trouble, a slow, gentle kiss that grows gradually faster and more rough. It's a true measure of how gone Allelujah is that there's still no urgency on his face and he just grins and asks, "Again?" He's touching himself, rubbing his hands over his arms, stomach, and chest: back and forth, back and forth.
I thought you wanted water? Hallelujah doesn't feel like shouting over the music to make sure he's heard, so he doesn't. Quantum brainwaves are so useful, sometimes.
Water, Allelujah agrees, and with his words come a flurry of sensation. Not more intense than usual, just more interesting. Downright spellbinding. Hallelujah doesn't dare leave Allelujah on his own here, so he leads Allelujah over to the bar and orders two waters. The fuckers here make you pay for water, but they can refill the cups as many times as they want at the sinks in the bathroom.
While Hallelujah is waiting for the water, Allelujah starts rubbing himself against Hallelujah, exploratory. The bartender doesn't even bother trying to suppress a grin; neither does Hallelujah, and the guy hands over their waters quickly.
They both down their waters quickly and refill them twice before heading back out onto the floor. Hallelujah's stacked their cups together and holds them in one hand; Allelujah leads the way onto the floor and goes straight up onto the raised platform.
If Hallelujah weren't already with Allelujah, the way Allelujah dances would have changed that. He feels the music like a living thing and moves his body the way that the music demands, every cell feeling the helix of the beat and melody. Hallelujah's more leaning against the platform than actually dancing, closing his eyes and letting himself drown in Allelujah's mind.
When he opens his eyes, standing there in black briefs--no, hotpants--and a shirt in one hand is the fucking princess from Research Subjects Anonymous. He offers Hallelujah the shirt and looks up at Allelujah, raising one eyebrow.
Hallelujah takes the shirt and tucks it into his back pocket--it's a slinky, tiny thing, not a proper t-shirt--and helps boost Tieria up onto the platform with Allelujah. He recognizes Tieria immediately and smiles that dopey grin and proceeds to rub himself against Tieria in time with the music.
Tieria, in turn, opens his mind to Hallelujah. Who cannot resist the invitation and rummages around only to discover that Tieria has a twin brother of his own, but his twin is somewhere in the middle of the dance floor with a crowd of worshipers around him. Also, Tieria is high on VEDA. Not very high, but it colors things a little brighter, a little more intense, and removes his normal reservations about, well, everything.
Interesting, Hallelujah thinks, because Tieria is the last person he would imagine taking drugs.
Regene's idea, Tieria sends. He's grinding back against Allelujah; both of them are hard. Tieria is panting with need, but Allelujah is unhurried, more interested in the music and the feeling of skin on skin than getting off.
Hallelujah can feel their arousal like a physical thing, making his own cock strain against the tight jeans. But-- Regene, the brother.
Twin, Tieria corrects.
Interesting distinction, Hallelujah thinks privately. Why?
Because we share the same DNA. Tieria's all but panting to be fucked--who wouldn't, with Allelujah's cock grinding against their ass--and Hallelujah can feel how difficult it is for him to form coherent answers.
Hallelujah resists the urge to smirk, knowing he will be driving these two home in a few songs' time. No, I mean, why try VEDA? It was touted as the drug that wasn't physically addictive, that had no adverse side effects, that did all of these wonderful things, which probably meant it did some fucking horrible things that they hadn't discovered yet.
Regene's idea, was all that Tieria sent. Allelujah was touching him now, kissing him in that slow, easy way, and Tieria was pretty much shaking with reaction. When Allelujah's hand starts to slide down to the substantial erection that's not quite trapped by the skimpy hotpants, Hallelujah knows it's time to go.
He reaches up and captures Allelujah's wrist and gives him a sharp look. Allelujah grins and pulls Tieria tightly against him, and Hallelujah nods his permission. Best brother ever, Allelujah declares, with the air of one who has been granted his fondest desire.
From the beginning of the night, they planned for Hallelujah to be the designated driver if they found somebody else to fuck. Tieria does not have a car, himself, but his twin does. Lucky for them Tieria was smart enough to grab the key. Where the hell he was keeping it, Hallelujah isn't going to ask; he's just going to be grateful and take the damn key and start the car while Allelujah and Tieria pile into the back seat.
It's not generally a good idea to try and watch Tieria and Allelujah while driving, so Hallelujah's impressions of them are through the quantum brainwave feedback loop and brief glances caught in the rear-view mirror:
Allelujah's head tipped back, the long line of his neck exposed in a way that says better than words that he wants it bitten.
Tieria denying Allelujah and going after his nipples instead. Even so, Allelujah's mouth falls open and his hand pets Tieria's fine hair like Tieria's some kind of cat.
The jeans, the hem of them soaked with sweat, coming off in a single smooth movement; for all his coldness, Tieria is not anything like a beginner.
Allelujah's cock inside of his shiny light green panties, the head poking out the top and the length of it stretching them in a way they weren't meant for, as this pair was actually made for women's crotches and not men's.
Tieria pulling down the panties and presumably closing his mouth around Allelujah's cock. Hallelujah can't see for sure, as Tieria's hair falls in the way, and Hallelujah remembers why he dislikes longer hair.
Though it is good for other things, he thinks as he pulls into the same place that Tieria took them last time. The twin might live here, or he might not. Either way, he's back at the club right now, and Hallelujah's unbuckling his seatbelt and turning around in the seat to grab Tieria by that long hair and pull him into a kiss.
Tieria makes no complaint and kisses back with every ounce of passion that he showed to Allelujah on the drive home. Hallelujah kisses him with teeth, maybe rougher than is necessary, maybe just rough enough.
Allelujah's hands find their way to Hallelujah's shoulder and pet, pet, pet him, and the contact brings Hallelujah fully into the feedback loop. He gasps at the sudden deluge of sensation, effectively breaking the kiss, and Tieria gives this smug little smile and goes back to kissing Allelujah.
"Time to go in," Hallelujah announces, and opens the door for Tieria and Allelujah. He walks between them, having a firm hold on each of their delicious asses all the way up until Tieria dances away and presses a thumb to the scanner above the doorknob.
It is, Hallelujah thinks, a perfectly sensible sort of thing. If they ever move in somewhere and stay longer than a couple months, they ought to make having one installed first priority.
Allelujah remembers which room is Tieria's and leads the way there. He collapses on the bed with helpless giggles and gyrates against the bedcovers, shaking his head back and forth and letting the blankets rub against his face.
"Hedonist," Tieria says, from the doorway, and offers Hallelujah the bottle of water that he disappeared to go get. Hallelujah in turn offers it to Allelujah, who sits up and takes the bottle with one hand and with the other rubs his face, his chest, his stomach as he drinks.
Not in a sexual way, Hallelujah knows from experience. Just a fascinated way, because every little sensation is way more interesting than it has any right to be. Allelujah shares the sensations, of course, and the interest, but Hallelujah's far more interested in Tieria and Tieria wants another taste of Hallelujah's teeth.
Hallelujah gives it, pulling Tieria against him and kissing with fierce brutality. It's the sort of thing that makes Tieria respond to in kind, his fingers digging into Hallelujah's wrist, his teeth raking Hallelujah's tongue and then, when the kiss breaks, his teeth also raking over Hallelujah's chin, jaw, and down his neck.
It's so fucking rare for anyone to do this that Hallelujah can't recall it happening before, which makes Tieria an oddity, and therefore interesting. Hallelujah fists his hand in Tieria's hair to keep him from going lower, and Tieria looks up at him with eyes the color of fresh blood.
"I was hoping for--" Tieria says at the same time that Hallelujah says, "Gonna fuck you, princess."
"Well." Tieria's lips curl into a smile, so very pleased with himself. "That settles that."
From the bed, Allelujah says, "I want to kiss."
Of course Hallelujah and Tieria humor him. Hallelujah first, because Allelujah is his and Tieria needs to know that his use is merely a loan, merely temporary, then Tieria. Back and forth until Tieria reaches over and cups his hand around Hallelujah's cock through his jeans, at which point Allelujah moans at the contact--brainwaves, of course. They don't even have to touch him directly.
Tieria sends a mental image of Allelujah spread out on the bed, and then layers on top of it Tieria atop him, touching, kissing, and then on top of that, Hallelujah fucking Tieria. Because Allelujah is in no shape to appreciate sex, to share fully in the need that was coursing through Tieria's and Hallelujah's veins.
Hallelujah loves the fuck out of the fact that neither of them have to say anything. He just gets up and sheds his jeans--nothing under them--and Tieria shimmies out of those hotpants, which Hallelujah realizes for the first time are actually some sort of shimmery material. He couldn't tell, in the dark of the club, but he can tell for sure now.
A thought occurs to him and he picks up the abandoned hotpants and kneels on the bed while Tieria climbs on top of Allelujah and rubs the fabric all over Allelujah's face. Allelujah moans again, a breathless thing, and his hands come up and he rubs the fabric down over his neck, his chest, his stomach.
"I've never seen anyone on Ecstasy before," Tieria murmurs, straddling Allelujah's hips, looking down at him with a warm look that makes Hallelujah want to do things that hurt to Tieria.
So he does, pushing Tieria's shoulders forward and making him put his ass in the air and pushing one finger inside of him dry. Tieria cries out, not in pleasure, and his hand clenches around the bottle of lubricant.
Thanks to the feedback loop, Allelujah whimpers too, and it is that and only that which makes Hallelujah reach for the lubricant. He's made his point; Tieria knows that he's only as safe as Hallelujah feels like being at a given moment.
It feels good to slide two fingers inside of Tieria, easy easy because he's sore from Hallelujah's demonstration, and feel Tieria push back against him. Allelujah squirms and makes a needy sound in his throat, no doubt picking up on Tieria's desire, so Hallelujah curls his fingers and starts to fuck Tieria and feed the sensation into Allelujah's senses.
Underneath Tieria, Allelujah begins to move in time with the fucking, and Hallelujah cannot help smirking.
Tieria broadcasts the way it looks in pleasure-tinged mental images, the white of Tieria's pale skin against the caramel of Allelujah's arms, stomach, and face. The way it feels to have Allelujah sucking his fingers, the pressure of Allelujah's cock against Tieria's.
Hallelujah's just about overloaded and they're not even fucking yet; he needs to speed this sex up. You good? he asks, deciding on politeness for the moment.
Do it. Tieria knows the size of Hallelujah's cock, but he's panting, rolling his hips, sweating all over and the VEDA in his system is pushing his need farther, faster. It's like a fire burning all over and Hallelujah can feel it like it's his own body burning, longing, feel the pressure and the throbbing need.
The least Hallelujah can do is to pour lube into the palm of his hand and slick it lavishly over his cock before positioning himself and pushing inside.
All three of them moan at the feeling, the delicious fullness and the tightness and the way the fire burns brighter with the onslaught of new sensation. Fuck, someone sends, and someone else breathes it: "Fuck."
There is no way that Hallelujah can hold still. He pounds into Tieria and princess takes it, begs mentally for more, putting his chest down and rocking back into the thrusts. Fingers dig into hips, caramel on milky white, and he feels and sees it at the same time and the twin sensations make him squirm and press up against the warm body above him, so solid and soft and--
Fuck. Fingers slip, they lose the rhythm, the connection wavers and his mind is only in his own body again. Hallelujah is panting, panting with Tieria's need and Allelujah's mindless pleasure.
He finds the rhythm again and sweet relief rushes into the connection, into all of them. So full, such a fast rhythm, and the body squirming under him is so delicious, the hard muscle not what he's used to but-- so soft and pale and even his hair is soft, his lips are soft too, brief kiss and the breath over his face-- hips pushing back against his cock, so many bodies all moving in perfect unison.
Someone comes with a strangled cry and there's the hotness of semen on his stomach and he cannot help reaching down, rubbing his hands in it. Muscles tighten around his cock and the groan he gives is choked, cut-off, a half-living thing whose vitality is stolen by the orgasm that rips through the three of them.
Bodies still. Tieria whimpers. Hallelujah pulls out.
Allelujah squirms, spreading the semen over his stomach, almost rubbing it in; Hallelujah laughs breathlessly.
Tieria rolls to the side, and they lay with Allelujah in between them.
Amazing, Hallelujah sends, in the mood to be generous with his praise.
The brainwaves do enhance the experience somewhat.
Hallelujah snorts out a laugh. Massive understatement.
For a time, they are all quiet, recovering. Reeling a little, in Hallelujah's case. Next time, we'll try it without the drugs.
Of course Allelujah agrees, mewling and then growling a drawled out "Yeeeeah," before rolling over and rubbing himself against the mused blankets.
Tieria laughs; it's a light, airy sound, tempered by breathiness that reeks of a pleased sort of sexual exhaustion. "Alle, you're so adorable."
Alle? Fucking princess thinks he has the right to give nicknames now? Allelujah, not Alle.
Alle, he purrs happily, face still buried in the blankets. I like Alle.
Hallelujah--no, it's going to be Halle part of the time now he supposes--wants to glare, but Allelujah is so happy at the nickname that he can't help basking in the residual gratification.
This story takes place in the same universe as Research Subjects Anonymous. You should probably go re-read that first!
Hallelujah takes Allelujah to the club at least once a week. Not the club where Allelujah dances for money, but a different club. A gay club, with more men than Hallelujah can shake a stick at, and a few women scattered here and there. It's a hole-in-the-wall place, but it's been in operation for longer than Hallelujah has been alive.
Once a month Allelujah is allowed to take a drug of his choosing when they go out, whatever the fuck he wants is okay because Hallelujah isn't about to let him get addicted to anything other than Hallelujah's cock; this month he's chosen Ecstasy. Finding it pure was a fuck-ton more difficult than finding it in general and ended up taking an extra week, but it is worth it. Hallelujah's not going to give his brother anything but exactly what Allelujah asks for, and it's not like he needs uppers.
Allelujah takes his pill in the bathroom then splashes water on his hair and shakes his head like a dog. Fucking gorgeous, Hallelujah thinks, and slides a finger through Allelujah's belt loop. He pushes approval into Allelujah's mind as he pulls gently at the loop, making the jeans shift down no more than a centimeter. But it's more than enough; now the thong he's wearing is just barely showing above the hem of the skintight jeans, like a tease.
"Aren't you forgetting something?" Hallelujah purrs, softly as he dares with the pulse of the music penetrating even the tiled walls of the bathroom. He leans close to Allelujah, not giving a fuck about the other people who might or might not be watching.
In a smooth movement, Allelujah reaches down and pulls his shirt off. He hands it to Hallelujah, and Hallelujah forces it part of the way through the side belt loop. Absently he thinks of more water, but then discards the idea; Allelujah will be covered in sweat soon, thanks to the E.
Hallelujah catches one of Allelujah's hands and leads him out and back onto the dance floor. It's still early enough that there's plenty of space to dance, and Allelujah does, gyrating his hips and holding his arms above his head. His steps are light, flighty, and Hallelujah can't help diving into Allelujah's mind and drinking in the pleasure at dancing, at moving, at the people watching him.
People can't help noticing that Hallelujah and Allelujah are twins, what with their identical haircuts and identical faces, except for the mismatched eyes. There are guys on them in less than a minute, a brunet grinding his hips against Hallelujah's, the closeness of his dancing all the more significant in the comparatively open space.
Allelujah looks over at Hallelujah when another guy starts to grind him, and Hallelujah just gives a feral grin. He can feel Allelujah's shiver like it's his own and delights in it even as the blond dancing next to Allelujah gets closer.
They're no fucking threat, Hallelujah knows. They can't do the things that Hallelujah can. Just momentary distractions. He turns to his own distraction and dances, playing the submissive role for all its worth, letting the thrum of the music go through his body, his senses, like a brainwave except this is the type everyone can hear.
He and Allelujah lose themselves in the dancing for a time. Long enough that Hallelujah takes off his own sweat-soaked shirt. Long enough that one time when Hallelujah glances over at his brother, Allelujah is touching his dancing partner, rubbing his hands on the guy's face and more rubbing himself against the guy in time with the music than dancing. Allelujah has a grin on his face like it's the best feeling in the world, and Hallelujah thinks to himself, show time.
Getting over to Allelujah is somewhat of a problem; in the forty-five minutes or so since they started dancing the floor has become crowded. But Hallelujah's had a year of navigating crowded dance clubs to accustom himself to the right and wrong way to get through a pack danced floor.
Hallelujah grabs Allelujah's hand and pulls him away from the distraction and off of the floor. The first thing Allelujah says--shouts, really--is "Drymouth." He gives an even dopier grin than he had on the dance floor, and Hallelujah kisses him for his trouble, a slow, gentle kiss that grows gradually faster and more rough. It's a true measure of how gone Allelujah is that there's still no urgency on his face and he just grins and asks, "Again?" He's touching himself, rubbing his hands over his arms, stomach, and chest: back and forth, back and forth.
I thought you wanted water? Hallelujah doesn't feel like shouting over the music to make sure he's heard, so he doesn't. Quantum brainwaves are so useful, sometimes.
Water, Allelujah agrees, and with his words come a flurry of sensation. Not more intense than usual, just more interesting. Downright spellbinding. Hallelujah doesn't dare leave Allelujah on his own here, so he leads Allelujah over to the bar and orders two waters. The fuckers here make you pay for water, but they can refill the cups as many times as they want at the sinks in the bathroom.
While Hallelujah is waiting for the water, Allelujah starts rubbing himself against Hallelujah, exploratory. The bartender doesn't even bother trying to suppress a grin; neither does Hallelujah, and the guy hands over their waters quickly.
They both down their waters quickly and refill them twice before heading back out onto the floor. Hallelujah's stacked their cups together and holds them in one hand; Allelujah leads the way onto the floor and goes straight up onto the raised platform.
If Hallelujah weren't already with Allelujah, the way Allelujah dances would have changed that. He feels the music like a living thing and moves his body the way that the music demands, every cell feeling the helix of the beat and melody. Hallelujah's more leaning against the platform than actually dancing, closing his eyes and letting himself drown in Allelujah's mind.
When he opens his eyes, standing there in black briefs--no, hotpants--and a shirt in one hand is the fucking princess from Research Subjects Anonymous. He offers Hallelujah the shirt and looks up at Allelujah, raising one eyebrow.
Hallelujah takes the shirt and tucks it into his back pocket--it's a slinky, tiny thing, not a proper t-shirt--and helps boost Tieria up onto the platform with Allelujah. He recognizes Tieria immediately and smiles that dopey grin and proceeds to rub himself against Tieria in time with the music.
Tieria, in turn, opens his mind to Hallelujah. Who cannot resist the invitation and rummages around only to discover that Tieria has a twin brother of his own, but his twin is somewhere in the middle of the dance floor with a crowd of worshipers around him. Also, Tieria is high on VEDA. Not very high, but it colors things a little brighter, a little more intense, and removes his normal reservations about, well, everything.
Interesting, Hallelujah thinks, because Tieria is the last person he would imagine taking drugs.
Regene's idea, Tieria sends. He's grinding back against Allelujah; both of them are hard. Tieria is panting with need, but Allelujah is unhurried, more interested in the music and the feeling of skin on skin than getting off.
Hallelujah can feel their arousal like a physical thing, making his own cock strain against the tight jeans. But-- Regene, the brother.
Twin, Tieria corrects.
Interesting distinction, Hallelujah thinks privately. Why?
Because we share the same DNA. Tieria's all but panting to be fucked--who wouldn't, with Allelujah's cock grinding against their ass--and Hallelujah can feel how difficult it is for him to form coherent answers.
Hallelujah resists the urge to smirk, knowing he will be driving these two home in a few songs' time. No, I mean, why try VEDA? It was touted as the drug that wasn't physically addictive, that had no adverse side effects, that did all of these wonderful things, which probably meant it did some fucking horrible things that they hadn't discovered yet.
Regene's idea, was all that Tieria sent. Allelujah was touching him now, kissing him in that slow, easy way, and Tieria was pretty much shaking with reaction. When Allelujah's hand starts to slide down to the substantial erection that's not quite trapped by the skimpy hotpants, Hallelujah knows it's time to go.
He reaches up and captures Allelujah's wrist and gives him a sharp look. Allelujah grins and pulls Tieria tightly against him, and Hallelujah nods his permission. Best brother ever, Allelujah declares, with the air of one who has been granted his fondest desire.
From the beginning of the night, they planned for Hallelujah to be the designated driver if they found somebody else to fuck. Tieria does not have a car, himself, but his twin does. Lucky for them Tieria was smart enough to grab the key. Where the hell he was keeping it, Hallelujah isn't going to ask; he's just going to be grateful and take the damn key and start the car while Allelujah and Tieria pile into the back seat.
It's not generally a good idea to try and watch Tieria and Allelujah while driving, so Hallelujah's impressions of them are through the quantum brainwave feedback loop and brief glances caught in the rear-view mirror:
Allelujah's head tipped back, the long line of his neck exposed in a way that says better than words that he wants it bitten.
Tieria denying Allelujah and going after his nipples instead. Even so, Allelujah's mouth falls open and his hand pets Tieria's fine hair like Tieria's some kind of cat.
The jeans, the hem of them soaked with sweat, coming off in a single smooth movement; for all his coldness, Tieria is not anything like a beginner.
Allelujah's cock inside of his shiny light green panties, the head poking out the top and the length of it stretching them in a way they weren't meant for, as this pair was actually made for women's crotches and not men's.
Tieria pulling down the panties and presumably closing his mouth around Allelujah's cock. Hallelujah can't see for sure, as Tieria's hair falls in the way, and Hallelujah remembers why he dislikes longer hair.
Though it is good for other things, he thinks as he pulls into the same place that Tieria took them last time. The twin might live here, or he might not. Either way, he's back at the club right now, and Hallelujah's unbuckling his seatbelt and turning around in the seat to grab Tieria by that long hair and pull him into a kiss.
Tieria makes no complaint and kisses back with every ounce of passion that he showed to Allelujah on the drive home. Hallelujah kisses him with teeth, maybe rougher than is necessary, maybe just rough enough.
Allelujah's hands find their way to Hallelujah's shoulder and pet, pet, pet him, and the contact brings Hallelujah fully into the feedback loop. He gasps at the sudden deluge of sensation, effectively breaking the kiss, and Tieria gives this smug little smile and goes back to kissing Allelujah.
"Time to go in," Hallelujah announces, and opens the door for Tieria and Allelujah. He walks between them, having a firm hold on each of their delicious asses all the way up until Tieria dances away and presses a thumb to the scanner above the doorknob.
It is, Hallelujah thinks, a perfectly sensible sort of thing. If they ever move in somewhere and stay longer than a couple months, they ought to make having one installed first priority.
Allelujah remembers which room is Tieria's and leads the way there. He collapses on the bed with helpless giggles and gyrates against the bedcovers, shaking his head back and forth and letting the blankets rub against his face.
"Hedonist," Tieria says, from the doorway, and offers Hallelujah the bottle of water that he disappeared to go get. Hallelujah in turn offers it to Allelujah, who sits up and takes the bottle with one hand and with the other rubs his face, his chest, his stomach as he drinks.
Not in a sexual way, Hallelujah knows from experience. Just a fascinated way, because every little sensation is way more interesting than it has any right to be. Allelujah shares the sensations, of course, and the interest, but Hallelujah's far more interested in Tieria and Tieria wants another taste of Hallelujah's teeth.
Hallelujah gives it, pulling Tieria against him and kissing with fierce brutality. It's the sort of thing that makes Tieria respond to in kind, his fingers digging into Hallelujah's wrist, his teeth raking Hallelujah's tongue and then, when the kiss breaks, his teeth also raking over Hallelujah's chin, jaw, and down his neck.
It's so fucking rare for anyone to do this that Hallelujah can't recall it happening before, which makes Tieria an oddity, and therefore interesting. Hallelujah fists his hand in Tieria's hair to keep him from going lower, and Tieria looks up at him with eyes the color of fresh blood.
"I was hoping for--" Tieria says at the same time that Hallelujah says, "Gonna fuck you, princess."
"Well." Tieria's lips curl into a smile, so very pleased with himself. "That settles that."
From the bed, Allelujah says, "I want to kiss."
Of course Hallelujah and Tieria humor him. Hallelujah first, because Allelujah is his and Tieria needs to know that his use is merely a loan, merely temporary, then Tieria. Back and forth until Tieria reaches over and cups his hand around Hallelujah's cock through his jeans, at which point Allelujah moans at the contact--brainwaves, of course. They don't even have to touch him directly.
Tieria sends a mental image of Allelujah spread out on the bed, and then layers on top of it Tieria atop him, touching, kissing, and then on top of that, Hallelujah fucking Tieria. Because Allelujah is in no shape to appreciate sex, to share fully in the need that was coursing through Tieria's and Hallelujah's veins.
Hallelujah loves the fuck out of the fact that neither of them have to say anything. He just gets up and sheds his jeans--nothing under them--and Tieria shimmies out of those hotpants, which Hallelujah realizes for the first time are actually some sort of shimmery material. He couldn't tell, in the dark of the club, but he can tell for sure now.
A thought occurs to him and he picks up the abandoned hotpants and kneels on the bed while Tieria climbs on top of Allelujah and rubs the fabric all over Allelujah's face. Allelujah moans again, a breathless thing, and his hands come up and he rubs the fabric down over his neck, his chest, his stomach.
"I've never seen anyone on Ecstasy before," Tieria murmurs, straddling Allelujah's hips, looking down at him with a warm look that makes Hallelujah want to do things that hurt to Tieria.
So he does, pushing Tieria's shoulders forward and making him put his ass in the air and pushing one finger inside of him dry. Tieria cries out, not in pleasure, and his hand clenches around the bottle of lubricant.
Thanks to the feedback loop, Allelujah whimpers too, and it is that and only that which makes Hallelujah reach for the lubricant. He's made his point; Tieria knows that he's only as safe as Hallelujah feels like being at a given moment.
It feels good to slide two fingers inside of Tieria, easy easy because he's sore from Hallelujah's demonstration, and feel Tieria push back against him. Allelujah squirms and makes a needy sound in his throat, no doubt picking up on Tieria's desire, so Hallelujah curls his fingers and starts to fuck Tieria and feed the sensation into Allelujah's senses.
Underneath Tieria, Allelujah begins to move in time with the fucking, and Hallelujah cannot help smirking.
Tieria broadcasts the way it looks in pleasure-tinged mental images, the white of Tieria's pale skin against the caramel of Allelujah's arms, stomach, and face. The way it feels to have Allelujah sucking his fingers, the pressure of Allelujah's cock against Tieria's.
Hallelujah's just about overloaded and they're not even fucking yet; he needs to speed this sex up. You good? he asks, deciding on politeness for the moment.
Do it. Tieria knows the size of Hallelujah's cock, but he's panting, rolling his hips, sweating all over and the VEDA in his system is pushing his need farther, faster. It's like a fire burning all over and Hallelujah can feel it like it's his own body burning, longing, feel the pressure and the throbbing need.
The least Hallelujah can do is to pour lube into the palm of his hand and slick it lavishly over his cock before positioning himself and pushing inside.
All three of them moan at the feeling, the delicious fullness and the tightness and the way the fire burns brighter with the onslaught of new sensation. Fuck, someone sends, and someone else breathes it: "Fuck."
There is no way that Hallelujah can hold still. He pounds into Tieria and princess takes it, begs mentally for more, putting his chest down and rocking back into the thrusts. Fingers dig into hips, caramel on milky white, and he feels and sees it at the same time and the twin sensations make him squirm and press up against the warm body above him, so solid and soft and--
Fuck. Fingers slip, they lose the rhythm, the connection wavers and his mind is only in his own body again. Hallelujah is panting, panting with Tieria's need and Allelujah's mindless pleasure.
He finds the rhythm again and sweet relief rushes into the connection, into all of them. So full, such a fast rhythm, and the body squirming under him is so delicious, the hard muscle not what he's used to but-- so soft and pale and even his hair is soft, his lips are soft too, brief kiss and the breath over his face-- hips pushing back against his cock, so many bodies all moving in perfect unison.
Someone comes with a strangled cry and there's the hotness of semen on his stomach and he cannot help reaching down, rubbing his hands in it. Muscles tighten around his cock and the groan he gives is choked, cut-off, a half-living thing whose vitality is stolen by the orgasm that rips through the three of them.
Bodies still. Tieria whimpers. Hallelujah pulls out.
Allelujah squirms, spreading the semen over his stomach, almost rubbing it in; Hallelujah laughs breathlessly.
Tieria rolls to the side, and they lay with Allelujah in between them.
Amazing, Hallelujah sends, in the mood to be generous with his praise.
The brainwaves do enhance the experience somewhat.
Hallelujah snorts out a laugh. Massive understatement.
For a time, they are all quiet, recovering. Reeling a little, in Hallelujah's case. Next time, we'll try it without the drugs.
Of course Allelujah agrees, mewling and then growling a drawled out "Yeeeeah," before rolling over and rubbing himself against the mused blankets.
Tieria laughs; it's a light, airy sound, tempered by breathiness that reeks of a pleased sort of sexual exhaustion. "Alle, you're so adorable."
Alle? Fucking princess thinks he has the right to give nicknames now? Allelujah, not Alle.
Alle, he purrs happily, face still buried in the blankets. I like Alle.
Hallelujah--no, it's going to be Halle part of the time now he supposes--wants to glare, but Allelujah is so happy at the nickname that he can't help basking in the residual gratification.