“Elijah?” cried William as he barrelled into the study, clothing
askew and hair still dripping with water from his bath. He looked wildly from
Cropper to Brutus and back again and repeated his question, sudden worry overwhelming
the nagging jealousy that had haunted him all afternoon.
Brutus glanced up from his sketchpad and gestured lazily towards the main bedroom. “Sleeping. Or was when we left. Cropper wore the boy out.”
“Not alone,” Cropper commented, opening his eyes and fixing Brutus with an icy stare. “I seem to remember somebody taking advantage of my brief doze to try out his mouth again.
Shifting slightly in his chair, Brutus retained his silence under that penetrating gaze as it burned with acid amusement, and Cropper added, “Honestly, Brutus, there are times when I believe you consider me quite the gull.”
“B-both of you?” William asked, not able to believe what he was hearing. “That is some jest, of course, because you said that…You said he would…” His voice trailed off when Cropper turned to look at him and he saw the truth in the older boy’s eyes. Shaking his head in denial, he backed away from them and ran in the direction of the bedroom, their mocking laughter ringing in his ears every step of the way.
The only sign of Elijah when William entered the room was a motionless lump under the counterpane and so, not wanting to disturb him, William tiptoed over to the bed and climbed in carefully, laying his head on the pillow, and curling up behind his friend to offer what comfort he could. He closed his eyes and nuzzled into Elijah’s hair, trying without much success, to push away the raging guilt and anger that had now subsumed his jealousy.
It wasn’t fair. When Cropper had announced his intention to take Elijah, William had assumed it would be the same as his first time; a little frightening but intensely pleasurable once the fear had subsided. The looks on the older boys’ faces had stripped William of his cosy illusions. Whatever had happened to Elijah was a far cry from his own experiences.
Elijah whimpered in his sleep and turned over, muttering something William couldn’t make out, though it could have been father. Was he dreaming of his papa? William hoped so. Those dreams would bring Elijah more comfort than any about Cropper.
Gently, he ran his hand over the covers tracing the shape of Elijah’s body, his mind returning to jealousy. Was it such a bad thing to have wanted to be Elijah’s first and only? It weren’t as though Elijah was an innocent girl in need of chaste seduction before wedding vows were exchanged, and that seemed to be the route his thoughts were taking. Which was silly, because no matter what happened during his years at school, William knew that one day he would meet a girl and fall in love, marry and have children. It was what men did. And Elijah would fade from friend to acquaintance, unless their wives became sisters when he may see their children tumble together on the lawn.
“William?”
The quiet enquiry jerked William from his reverie and he looked down into clear blue eyes peering up at him though a shock of dark hair.
“You’re awake,” he said, smiling. “How are you feeling?”
“A little… sore,” Elijah answered, shifting around and pulling a rueful face. “Though that is only to be expected, I am sure.”
“Did they hurt you? They hurt you. I cannot believe they hurt you. I shall thrash them for this, I shall-”
William was halfway off the bed, determined to bring the bigger boys to task for their crime, when Elijah’s hand gripped his wrist and he said, “Don’t. Please. I would much rather you stayed.”
Glancing from his arm to Elijah’s face, William frowned, perplexed as to why his friend should not wish him to go, only to have his question answered.
“What is done, is done. There is little point in humiliating yourself on my account. Please, William, stay here. Hold me. Let us sleep together for one night.”
Ah. How could he turn down a request like that? William smiled and relented, shucked his clothing and then, tugging the covers aside, clambered back over to Elijah’s side to pull the other boy into his arms. Elijah’s head rested comfortably on William’s shoulder, William carded his fingers through Elijah’s hair, and within moments the two boys were fast asleep.
*
Lyall and Brolly arrived an hour or so after William, armed with the proceeds of their detour into the village; a shilling’s worth of roasted potatoes and two pounds of best sausages. Sensing the tension in the room, they prepared supper without a word, leaving the two bigger boys to their leisures and moving silently around the room until everything was ready.
Only when he was handing over a heaped platter did Lyall venture to ask, “Did all go well with Price?”
“As well as could be expected under the circumstances,” Cropper answered, his eyes narrowing as he shot a look towards Brutus. “The boy, it seems, is a sensitive chap and has something of an adverse reaction to hashish.”
Brutus opened his mouth to protest but Brolly’s gasp of recognition attracted all their attentions. The younger boy hesitated for barely a second before explaining, “Such a thing happened to a chum of mine over the summer last year. Scared the love of god out of us, I can tell you, when he began yelling that we were going to kill him. It took three to restrain him until he recovered his senses enough to be left alone.”
“And it didn’t occur to you to bring this to my attention? May I enquire as to why?”
Brolly slumped under Cropper’s accusing glare. “Old Randall was dandy after a few hours sleep so it didn’t seem important and I told you when they had him put away.”
“I wonder if the two events were connected,” Brutus mused around a mouthful of potatoes.
Lyall shuddered theatrically and pushed his own food around his plate. “If they are I don’t want him sharing a room with me. Imagine waking up with a madman looming over you.” He paused, grinning over at his brother and added, “Actually, give me Price. He’ll be an improvement over the one I currently share with.”
“He will be in Brolly’s room.”
“What? No!” Brolly protested, sitting up and taking notice as the conversation turned to him.
“For goodness sake boy, there are two beds in there and you spend the vast majority of your nights in mine. I cannot think of one good reason as to why you should protest the arrangement.”
“But it’s my room, Cropper. And you promised I would never have to share.”
“That was before I realised you were going to stick so determinedly to the nest.”
Brolly froze, hurt and desperation skipping across his face, before he rose silently, slammed his plate down on the table and stalked from the room leaving behind him a smothering level of tension.
No one spoke. Brutus dug diligently into his food and Lyall joined him, trying to ignore the strained expression on Cropper’s face. This was a well-worn argument, though a fairly pointless one in Lyall’s opinion. Cropper kept insisting it was time for Brolly to move on, going so far as to push him in Lyall’s direction as his potential ram, only to turn everything around and demand Brolly back in his bed a few nights later. No wonder Brolly behaved like a demanding brat. Sometimes Lyall wondered just what would happen if Cropper ever rejected Brolly entirely.
“Leave his room for now,” Cropper said eventually, still staring at the empty doorway, his supper lying forgotten on his lap. “I will talk some sense into him tomorrow. For tonight William and Elijah can sleep with me.”
*
William saw Elijah wake, watching as his friend’s body went from total relaxation to rigid fear. At some point during the night Cropper had joined them in the bed and his much larger form lay between them, meaning the only part of William now touching Elijah was his hand, clasping Elijah’s across Cropper’s chest.
Not wanting to scare him further, William squeezed Elijah’s hand gently and was rewarded with a breathy sigh and eyes fluttering open to stare at him. He smiled, and Elijah smiled back. He rubbed circles on the back of Elijah’s hand with his thumb and Elijah’s eyes opened further and darkened in colour. He licked his lips and Elijah’s parted showing the slightest hint of pink as his own tongue started to mimic William’s movements.
It was fun, like having a living looking glass.
Bringing his knee up, William stroked his toes down Elijah’s shin and grinned a challenge at the other boy. Elijah grinned back and brought his own knee over so they could play footsie across Cropper’s legs. The game continued a while, their toes soon digging and kicking as much as caressing, their hands joining in with occasional slaps and punches until the bigger boy stirred, wakened by the two bundles of enthusiasm hemming him in.
“If you two are awake, the least you can do is use your energies productively,” he grumbled, pushing two tousled heads in the general direction of his groin.
The fear returned to Elijah’s face and William smiled at him, grabbing his hand and squeezing it as he had done before.
“Just do as I do,” he whispered and ducked beneath the covers.
Elijah closed his eyes and followed him down, determined not to be scared if William wasn’t. There was no reason to be, in all honesty; it wasn’t as though this were the first time he had taken a man into his mouth, and it was dark so he wouldn’t have to worry about seeing it, it was just that-
William’s lips pressing on his own derailed Elijah’s worried thoughts, and he soon became lost in the kiss, breathing the stuffy air through his nose and running his hands along any skin he could find. Sweat broke out over his brow and he squirmed, rubbing his growing erection against the covers. Slowly, and without breaking its reassuring grip, a hand guided his until he could feel hot solid flesh in his palm. Cropper – from the angles, it must be – and the thought made Elijah’s stomach clench and his breath come faster. How was he supposed to follow William’s lead if he couldn’t watch?
“I want to see you,” he said, feeling a fool.
The answer came in the form of the covers being thrown back, and Elijah squinted into the half-light made all the brighter by its sudden appearance.
“Better?” William asked, full of that wonderful confidence that Elijah so wished to possess.
Elijah nodded and dropped his gaze, blushing when he realised he was still holding Cropper’s cock in his hand. It twitched and hardened, which made him blush more and it was altogether possible he would have stayed there forever if William hadn’t punched him playfully on the shoulder and said, “Shall we see who’s better at this, then?”
Put like that, Elijah found he could forget whom he was doing this for and simply enjoy the challenge. When William placed kisses up the underside of Cropper’s shaft and sucked briefly on the head, Elijah watched him with avid eyes, determined not to be found wanting. And when William pulled away, Elijah dove in, replicating the actions and smiling proudly to himself as Cropper gasped and bucked up into his mouth. Was this why William did what he did? It felt different somehow, than the times Brutus had taken his mouth. That had been about ownership; this was about pleasure and the power that came with giving it.
Ballard groaned and threw his arm over his face, gazing down at the boys from
behind that façade of privacy. The view was enough to undo him, let alone
the sensations. Gone were the fallen angels he had seen in the yard, these two
were imps incarnate, as different as night and day; William all peaches and
cream, his hair a halo of golden curls, Elijah with a shock of black locks that
fell determinedly onto his face, the darker tone of his skin evident on the
hand which rested against William’s.
Then they were kissing across his cock, open-mouthed with tongues twining, and he was part of it, absorbed into the kiss as though it were the most natural thing in the world. Hot, wet mouths surrounding and enclosing him, licking and sucking, and he couldn’t contain the groan or control his hips greedily thrusting between them. Hands holding and stroking, rolling his balls, and through it all two pairs of sparkling blue eyes, fixed on each other. Fixed on him. Fixed on his cock and devouring it with their eyes. And he was coming, bucking up into a greedy mouth, fingers tangled into dark and fair strands as he forced them down, his ears singing and his body screaming out its completion.
“Holy mother of God,” Brutus’ breathy voice came from the doorway and Ballard looked up through dazed eyes, aware that the two younger boys were too involved in each other to notice their audience.
With a single gesture he waved Brutus over to the bed.
Elijah felt, rather than saw, someone join them. The mattress dipped, William went stiff in his arms pulling his hips forwards, and then Cropper said, “You will let him take you, William.”
William’s eyes flashed with momentary revolt and Elijah saw his lips form a refusal. Fear began to twist in his gut once more, because surely no good would come of such a refusal. Surely now they were here, in the belly of the beast, all they could do was obey.
“William.”
The name was spoken as an order and carried with it the weight of acknowledged authority. Between one blink and the next William’s small rebellion died and he released Elijah, turning to lie on the bed at Cropper’s side. Brutus immediately moved to cover him, already oiled fingers probing and stretching.
“And I will have you.”
Elijah turned towards Cropper and found renewed lust burning in those cool green eyes. He shivered, the fear unwinding with alacrity now; as much of his own reactions as of what was about to happen. What if he could not help but fight them? He did not have it within him to submit as William did.
“Come here, boy.”
Cropper pulled him down onto the bed and rolled them so that Elijah was underneath, buried by that weight and Elijah felt the panic hit. He couldn’t breath, he couldn’t see. He wanted to scream, to fight, to get free. He didn’t want to be here, he didn’t want to feel –
A hand grasped his and gave it a gentle squeeze, and when Elijah forced his eyes open it was William, his face so close Elijah could feel the heat of his breath. The fear and panic vanished as though they had never been, and he conjured up a brave smile. Cropper’s fingers pushed into him and he pretended they were William’s, preparing him with love and care, not lust and haste, and the steely shaft that followed was thrust home with William’s love.
He could do this. With William here, Elijah knew he could be brave and do anything that was expected of him because he wasn’t alone, and this wasn’t the vestry, and the cock inside him didn’t belong to Father Gillespie and Papa couldn’t catch them, and there would be no punishment.
There was only pleasure, like now, when William sobbed, “oh, god,”
and his face twisted up, mouth half open, eyes screwed shut, shudders running
through his body and Elijah could see Brutus’ hand working hard, pulling
William’s cock and his own jumped it time, feeling as William felt, breathing
as William breathed. They were as one body, Siamese twins joined at the senses,
inseparable in what they felt and how they moved. Elijah was penetrated and
penetrator, simultaneously taker and taken, he was William and yet loved William,
and the whole took him away from his own body. Left to its own desires as he
fed on William’s need, he felt himself climb higher in tune to another’s
hand, drawn further along the spiral of another’s need. And he spilled
as William did, tears on his cheeks as their lips met and they swallowed each
other’s cries, warmth and salt and spendings shared until there was none
of them that was separate, and, if Elijah had his way, there never would be
again.