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Offering, Part 2

Billy’s eyes close at Elijah’s words, opening to see Dominic’s body tensed and shivering, his hips half–risen from the bed. Dominic’s eyebrows knit in confusion and fear, and he chokes down another little cry.

“Let him go,” Billy whispers hotly, and Elijah obeys, uncurling his fingers slowly from around Dominic’s cock, raising his hands in a gesture of mock surrender before he turns to Sean, breathing hard beside them. Billy’s fingers fall into Dominic’s hair again, stroking through sweaty brown and blond tangles.

“Take a breath,” Elijah and Billy say together, and all four of them inhale as one.

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Dominic can see Sean’s shoulders shaking as he breathes, can feel Sean’s hands still on him, bruising in pressure and greed. Dominic’s eyes flit to his own chest, and the marks there cause him not a little dark joy.

Elijah soothes Sean, kissing his neck and shoulders and murmuring words of praise. Dominic wonders what promises Elijah has made to Sean in the past, what gifts he has begged from their friend.

But when Sean’s eyes fly open now, they fall upon Dominic, not Elijah—

And Dominic’s expression softens with gratitude and love, just before he feels Billy’s quiet sigh.

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“Billy,” Dominic murmurs, and Billy leans down, caressing Dominic’s chest, now rising and falling with his shallow breaths.

“Say the word, Dom,” Billy whispers, and his eyes are bright. “Can’t do anything unless—”

“No,” Dominic smiles. “No. Just stay here, stay with me.”

“Of course—”

Dominic reaches for Billy desperately, pulls him down hard with what little remains of his strength, and their lips are inches away when Billy pushes back, sitting up with a curse.

“Billy, please—”

“No, Dominic,” Billy shakes his head again. “Not until this is done. Not until I can’t see them in your eyes anymore.”

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Elijah sits back, pleased, and lets his hand travel again to Dominic’s chest. His fingers lace with Billy’s, locking there before Billy can pull away.

“Water? Wine?” Elijah asks, the fire in his eyes tamped down for the moment. “Maybe both?”

“Both,” Sean breathes behind them. Elijah smiles again, releasing Billy’s hand. His fingernails drag lightly down Dominic’s stomach, making Dominic twitch and gasp, before he rises from the bed. When he speaks, his voice is warm.

“You won’t regret this, Dom. You won’t forget it, either.”

Dominic settles back into Billy’s arms, unable to give more than tacit agreement.

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The ache in Dominic’s arm is terrible, but he ignores the encroaching numbness in exchange for keeping Billy’s touch.

Of course, Billy has borne Dominic’s touch, white–knuckled and hot, as well, and he still stands as the one safeguard between Dominic and Elijah’s potentially violent greed.

Dominic is calmer now—as much as he can be, left this way—and he stirs at the touch of Sean’s hand running gently up and down his calf. Sean’s expression is shattered, sad, and Dominic aches for him.

“You broke him,” Billy whispers, close to Dominic’s ear. “Harder than he broke you.”

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Dominic reaches for Sean, and Sean moves to lower himself to Dominic’s lips for the first time. Dominic relaxes into the kiss, allowing Sean to take again what Dominic would have willingly given years ago.

There is something strangely tender to Sean’s touches, to the heat of his tongue flicking over Dominic’s jagged teeth. Dominic’s free hand caresses, strokes between Sean’s shoulder blades, and Billy’s approving purr serves as sweet, thrilling encouragement.

Still, Billy does not release Dominic’s hand.

And when Elijah returns, a rush of cold air cutting through the warmth Dominic’s just found, Billy’s grip tightens even more.

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Elijah moves slowly into the room, obviously unwilling to scrape the needle of his presence across this already scratched and warped record. Dominic watches Billy watch Elijah, sees the muscles of Billy’s throat work while Elijah pours four glasses of wine.

Sean slides away from Dominic, and the disappearing warmth makes Dominic want to cry again, this time for an uneasy friendship now shaken and turned on its side.

Elijah places a glass in Sean’s hand and presses a kiss to his forehead, erasing the touch of Dominic’s own lips from Sean’s skin—and from his memory, too, Dominic imagines.

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Elijah climbs onto the bed with two more glasses, jostling Billy just enough so that his hand slips involuntarily from Dominic’s. Elijah takes immediate advantage, sliding his hand under Dominic’s neck, pulling him gently to sit and drink.

Dominic drinks deep from his glass. Years have passed since Dominic last allowed Elijah this near, but Elijah’s memory is long—and Dominic will need whatever temporary courage he can gather.

Dominic looks behind Elijah to Billy, but when he makes to speak, Elijah moves closer, his sweet face filling Dominic’s vision—

Eclipsing Billy entirely, for what must be the last time.

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Elijah’s kiss is sharp and sweet, at first as soothing as the wine to Dominic’s parched mouth. Then it turns, like one of Elijah’s moods, and Dominic’s greed in surrender matches Elijah’s in victory. Dominic’s glass falls from his hand, crashing to the floor just as Elijah’s teeth score his lips, devouring in a way Dominic craves.

Then there is the burning—the tearing of Elijah’s jeans rubbing harshly against Dominic’s overheated, oversensitive body. Dominic snarls, tugging at Elijah’s shirt, and he is only seconds from feeling Elijah’s skin when again he is stopped—

This time, more violently than before.

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Elijah’s body, so quick and catlike, is more flexible than imagined when stretched across Dominic’s body—and his hands, so small and delicate, are weapons of calm destruction when curled tightly around Dominic’s throat and balls. He does not move, does not even acknowledge Billy’s warning hiss behind him.

“You don’t touch me,” Elijah breathes. “You don’t do anything until I tell you. Until I let you, Dom.” The hand around Dominic’s balls clenches harder, and tears spill from the corners of Dominic’s eyes. “Are we clear?”

Dominic nods, his eyes bright.

“Good,” Elijah sighs. “Hands above your head, Dom.”

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Dominic hesitates, and Elijah sighs again, releasing his grip on Dominic’s body. He moves Dominic’s arms to the headboard with a care Dominic does not expect.

“Slowly,” Elijah murmurs, caressing Dominic’s taut muscles. “I know it hurts. Your wrist is already bruised, Dom ... and your forearm’s gone white ...” Elijah smiles, leaning to whisper softly in Dominic’s ear. “Clinging to Billy’s never done you much good, has it?”

Dominic inhales sharply, and Elijah’s smile widens. His hands move to Dominic’s hair, massaging his scalp and temples, relaxing and terrorizing him at once—

A specialty of Elijah’s, learned early and never forgotten.

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“Okay,” Elijah breathes, leaning back to settle on Dominic’s chest. “I’m going to do this right for you, Dom. Because it’s your birthday, and you want it ... and I’m under orders to deny you nothing.”

Dominic’s eyes flicker around the room, but Elijah leans down again, his hand resting gently on Dominic’s cheek. “He’s still here,” Elijah whispers. “D’you think he’d leave you alone with me?”

Dominic shivers, and Elijah laughs.

“So,” Elijah continues, reaching for the abandoned scarf. “Let’s see how much you’ve learned since we last played this game. Let’s see if you even remember how to play.”

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The sound of the scarf being ripped in two lengthwise is enough to make Dominic’s eyes close and his body tighten once more. His hips rise off the bed almost unbidden, and Elijah’s hand lands firmly on his stomach, stilling his movements.
.
“Patience, you greedy fuck,” Elijah whispers. Dominic’s lips curl into a sneer, and it takes everything he has not to answer back, to bring even more of Elijah’s violence to the surface. Elijah’s smile sweetens even more, lush and full of challenge.

“Plenty of time, Dom. Don’t waste it all before I even fucking touch you for real.”

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Then Elijah is moving, high on his knees and shockingly steady on the mattress, wrapping one thin length of fabric three times around Dominic’s left wrist before knotting it hard. The tail of the fabric, still more than a foot long, fits twice around the bedpost, and Elijah knots it with a precision he learned at Billy’s feet in Mexico.

Elijah does not bother to test the knots. He has always found Dominic easy to keep still, with or without the luxury of restraints.

“Nice,” he smiles approvingly before catching Dominic’s other wrist. “The things I do for you, Dom ...”

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Elijah moves quickly now, and Dominic imagines that it is because he needs this just as badly as Dominic does—but for different reasons. Elijah—who has nothing to prove to Dominic, least of all in this way—still longs for Billy’s respect and Sean’s attention.

He will receive both and neither tonight, Dominic thinks abstractedly.

His reverie is interrupted by Elijah’s final tug on the scarf. Dominic gasps, the first sound he’s made in several minutes, and he watches the flush of pleasure rise above Elijah’s cheekbones.

It is a beautiful sight—one of many Dominic will remember later.

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Elijah slides backward slowly, scraping his body down the length of Dominic’s stomach and cock as he moves to straddle Dominic’s calves. Dominic arches up again, and the pain in his arms comes as a deep shock.

Elijah has allowed next to nothing in the way of movement for Dominic, and this knowledge fills him with the same terror and need he felt for Sean what seems like hours ago. He is again immobilized, again wanting more.

“Very nice,” Elijah smiles, and his tongue shoots across his bottom lip in appreciation. “Get comfortable, Dom ... gonna make it worth your while.”

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Elijah sits back on his heels to remove his overshirt, and suddenly Dominic can see behind him again—can see Billy’s warm green eyes and long, spidery fingers flexing and relaxing, can see Sean watching, still in shock, from under heavy eyelids.

Dominic knows Elijah is watching him, watching the way his eyes flicker, trying to keep contact with Sean and far more with Billy—Billy, who with every second that passes seems to grow more unsettled, but retains his impassive expression—but Elijah says nothing, does nothing.

Until his hand flutters softly in the air, and Sean steps forward.

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Billy moves quickly to Dominic’s side, and Elijah raises his hand to stop either of their protests.

“Want you to touch me, Sean,” Elijah murmurs. “And then I want you to watch me with him ... watch me do everything you couldn’t.”

Sean draws the thin tee shirt gently from Elijah’s chest, and his motions are so reverent, so careful, that Dominic feels like he will go mad just watching. Dominic is certain his face mirrors Billy’s, creased with pleasure and disgust at once.

“Here’s the thing, Dom,” Elijah whispers. “I don’t wait for my birthday to get what I want.”

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Dominic wonders vaguely how often Sean has undressed Elijah, for his own benefit or for that of others, but he is distracted by the sight of Sean’s hands, so recently warm on his own body, now caressing Elijah’s. Elijah’s eyes close, and Billy catches Dominic’s glance, holding it there in silence.

Dominic’s fingers tremble, reaching for Billy, but then Elijah’s eyes slide open, dilated in pleasure, and Billy steps back, retreating to his role as observer. Dominic feels the loss instantly, and drags his gaze back to Elijah unwillingly.

Elijah’s smile has gone dark again, and Dominic holds his breath.

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Elijah sits up high on his knees again, allowing Sean better access to unbutton his jeans, to stroke him gently inside the material until Elijah’s eyes close once more and he sighs, his hand covering Sean’s.

Sean smiles and returns to his work, tugging at Elijah’s jeans, and as they come away, Dominic’s eyes fall to Elijah’s cock, hard and perfect and still familiar enough that Dominic cannot help arching up again in need. Elijah leans forward and taps one ragged fingernail on Dominic’s lips.

“Do it again and I’ll hurt you,” Elijah whispers. “More than you want me to.”

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Sean moves back, his smile fading into a kind of dazed appreciation for what he knows is about to happen. The idea that Sean and Elijah may have actually planned what harm and good they wanted to do tonight makes Dominic ache. He covets Billy’s position, only just for a moment, and only to see this from the outside—to access every image at once.

Elijah smiles gently at Billy, and less so at Sean, before he takes a deep breath and sinks to his hands and knees over Dominic.

“Mine, now ...” he breathes. “Don’t move, and don’t fight me.”

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Elijah’s tongue sweeps out, licks at the marks his fingers and teeth have already left on Dominic’s throat. His hair, growing out soft, tickles Dominic’s neck, and Dominic releases a brief, permitted noise of pleasure.

Dominic feels Elijah’s smile against his skin, relishes it, knowing it will be one of the last expressions of delight to cross Elijah’s face tonight. This is the calm before the storm, the breath of familiar tenderness before Elijah’s baser instincts take over.

Still, Dominic is surprised when it passes so quickly—

And the sting of Elijah’s fingernails brings him back to present, cold reality.

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It begins as the minor scraping of two ragged fingernails across Dominic’s stomach. This unusually gentle approach does not comfort him, however. Rather, Dominic imagines that Elijah will go much further in his ministrations, and Dominic searches his memory for his previous limits—and those of Elijah, as well.

Elijah settles down, resting his cheek against Dominic’s chest. His fingers find Dominic’s nipple, brushing across it with the lightest touch, before his palm rests there, warm over the hard little nub.

Dominic holds his breath again, waiting—

And is rewarded with the bright, searing pain of Elijah's deep, angry scratch.

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Dominic has never minded the sight or smell, or even the coppery taste, of blood. Still, the tiny smears of it on his chest, directly above and below his erect nipple, cause even Dominic to shiver, and he can feel against his thigh how pleased his reaction makes Elijah.

Dominic cannot look at Billy, or even Sean, just yet.

Elijah’s lips close over Dominic’s nipple softly, drawing it up between his lethal little teeth and biting so perfectly that Dominic’s eyes nearly roll back in his head.

Elijah has barely begun, and already Dominic is prepared to give him anything.

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Elijah pulls back to suck away the blood, and Dominic exhales, reaching with his eyes at last for something other than the alluring sight before him. Billy’s expression is now one of grief and overwhelmed, possessive desire, and it makes Dominic stir in his bonds, surprising Elijah and upsetting him from his task.

From his perch at Elijah’s side, Sean gasps at this breach of order. Dominic freezes, his eyes still on Billy, both of them heavily aware of what Dominic has done.

“You were fucking warned,” Elijah hisses, and his slap is like a gunshot in the quiet room.

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Elijah forces Dominic’s gaze back to him, his hand searing hot against the suddenly vivid mark on Dominic’s left cheek.

“Distracted little fuck,” Elijah snarls. “And I was gonna make this good for you.”

Dominic breathes hard, looking up from underneath his lashes at Elijah’s reddened face. “So make it bad, then. Show me something I haven’t seen, Elijah. Show me what you’ve learned.”

Dominic is only slightly better prepared for the next hit, but before he has a chance to respond, Elijah’s hands are moving again.

“I said you wouldn’t regret this,” Elijah says softly. “Maybe I was wrong.”

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Elijah looks to Sean again, and Dominic watches another silent cue pass between them, another command and another act of obedience. And again Dominic uses this disruption to find Billy in the almost darkness, his eyes glassy and tired.

“You must feel so lucky to have him,” Elijah murmurs after Sean disappears. He drags his nails into the coarse hair between Dominic’s legs, making Dominic’s breath catch. “I wouldn’t allow this, Dom, even if you begged for it. I don’t give away what belongs to me.”

Billy's voice is soft and clear behind him.

“Do you never stop talking, lad?”

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Dominic breathes hard, trying to bring Elijah’s attention back to him, but only Sean’s return seems to keep Elijah from rising from the bed and turning on Billy.

Sean confers with Elijah, passing him his cigarettes and a small box. Elijah listens, but his eyes flit constantly between Dominic and Billy, as if judging who presents the larger danger.

And Dominic has nearly had enough.

“Come on,” Dominic hisses. “Whatever it is, give it to me, Elijah. You’ve had your digs, now just shut the fuck up and do it.”

“By all fucking means, Dom,” Elijah laughs. “It’s your birthday.”


Part 3

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