Killer, what's your pleasure?

“Hello, killer, busy?”

“For you never,” Mylos replied truthfully.

“I’ve heard about the new…acquisition,” Rowen said, taking a step forward.

Not really wanting to discuss it, Mylos glanced over at Patris again. He was cleaning the fire pits, stacking away the cinders and the dust, replacing it with fresh wood.

Rowen followed Mylos’s gaze. “I guess you have more…pressing thoughts on your mind right now, killer,” he mused, as if reading his intentions. He closed the door softly behind him and went to Patris.


* * * *

The young disciple always pretended to be elsewhere whenever Rowen was around Mylos, the bright presence too distracting to handle rationally. Once he had discovered what love was all about, Patris had crawled back into his lonely corner, convinced that Rowen would never keep his word. He was off limits, after all, clearly belonging to his Master. But he had been wrong. The blondish man had actively sought him, whenever Mylos left him a free moment, and not for sexual gains. Probably the only person who believed in him, Rowen encouraged him to think with his own head, to build his confidence and be more self-assertive. Mostly, he taught Patris about love, giving and receiving physical pleasure.

Everything considered, it was hardly surprising for Patris to fall in love with Rowen, although the task was easy in itself. Rowen’s concern, his openhearted disposition and the brimming humor shining out of the dancing grey eyes would have made anyone do the same mistake. Yet, the acolyte was afraid his feelings would show, particularly in front of Mylos. So he tried very hard to pretend Rowen did not exist whenever the Blood Divine was around, but not always the deception worked.

In this particular case, Patris had focused on his work and almost missed Rowen’s entry. Only when he felt strong hands running on his back, leading down to his ass, did he acknowledge the new presence. Don’t worry, little one, a voice said in his head. I’ll make it fun for you, too. Not surprised to hear it, the disciple relaxed. In time, Patris had come to accept the voice as an extension of the blondish man himself and trusted it completely.

“Was this what you had in mind, killer?” Rowen took off Patris’s robe, his hand still teasing the backside.

* * * *

Mylos watched fascinated, wondering at Rowen’s uncanny ability to read his mind. He cleared his throat. “As a matter of fact…maybe it was.”

His lover stood up, taking Patris’s head and pushing it to his hips. On his knees, his usual place of business, the acolyte did not need further instructions. With trembling fingers, he freed the demanding master beneath the clothes, then grabbed it and slid his hands on the soft skin, before making it disappear inside his mouth. Rowen sighed with pleasure, holding Patris’s head steady as he pushed to get his growing bulge deeper inside. They moved for a while under Mylos’s excited gaze, his own erection straining against its tight confines.

“Are you just going to watch, killer? I thought you wanted a piece of the action, too.”

The Blood Divine swallowed hard, then reached Rowen to close his mouth avidly on the other’s inviting opening. His tongue, wet and long, plunged inside, battling against Rowen’s refusal to surrender. In the meantime, Patris dedicated attention to Mylos’s growing need, too, his shaft hard as a rock dancing in front of the disciple’s face. With his free hand, he grabbed it and soon his lips flew from one to the other, sucking deeply and using his tongue to raise further desire. His head bobbed rapidly from one to the other, dedicating each a short but intense attention that made both cocks increase in a matter of seconds. Apparently unaware of him, the two men continued with their long kiss, letting Patris play some more until it became too hard to hold back. Rowen broke the intimate contact by moving away from Mylos, already reaching for Patris. Picking him up easily, he laid him on the table where Mylos had been working. “Come, killer. Let’s have some serious fun.”

“You really know your way with the boy,” Mylos observed.

Rowen grinned. “So I like him and to be honest, I’ve had a few…dealings of my own,” he admitted freely. “Jealous perhaps?” he asked Mylos, his grey eyes half mocking and half challenging.

Mylos glanced at the youth lying, sweet and vulnerable on the table. Rowen had just confirmed his suspicions. For a moment he wondered whether to punish the disciple for his insolence, well aware he would never dare chastise his blondish lover for his misbehaviors. On the other hand, he could not help admiring the man’s honesty. In a world where everyone lied in order to secure his favors, truth seemed a refreshing change. And to be honest, the notion excited him more than he cared to admit. “Actually no, Rowie, but we could have shared him sooner.”

“The important thing is that we’re doing it right now, killer,” Rowen assured, moving closer to the table. “And this sweet morsel,” he grabbed Patris’s penis, “isn’t going anywhere soon so we’ll have plenty of time to repeat the experience.” Almost nonchalantly, he slid the soft skin, working fast. “Now, killer, what is your pleasure?”