Page 106 of Rears & Vices

Everard nodded, only somewhat reluctantly. It was true.

“Mm-hm,” D’Arcy confirmed. “Look at him—he doesn’t dare touch himself just now. Adores watching me swallow a man down. You’ll believe it?”

Vitya grunted. And then—then colour began on his cheeks. His prick leaped anew. “Yes,” he whispered.

“Good; you ought. And I think,” D’Arcy said, “I think you also ought give him what he wants. What d’you say?”

Everard was incapable of words, excepting a strangled “Preston…”

Vitaliy was as still as stone. His eyes were very wide, bright, focused on Everard alone.

“I think,” D’Arcy said, “you owe him quite a lot.”

Everard held his breath, biting his lip hard. Suddenly, he wasn’t sure this would go the way D’Arcy meant it to—Vitaliy had been so concerned about Everard obliging him⁠—

—but his concern had been Everard being obliged to him, he realised. He’d been worried Everard would’ve had no other choice.

Not the other way round.

“Don’t you?” D’Arcy said, murderously soft, sensing his kill at hand. “You began this. You want to do this for him. He deserves it. Don’t you think so?”

The other way round… where Vitaliy was the one indebted—the one, perhaps, obliging⁠—

Vitaliy shuddered all over. He looked as though he were on a precipice, disbelief and desire, begrudging admiration, too. His breath came in gulps again, and this time, no one was touching him; his prick leapt and bounced, leaking. Both his hands were spread against the pale blue panelling behind him, all ten fingertips white and strained as they held him up. His gaze fixed on Everard, agonised, black with want.

“I— I— Yes,” he gasped. “Fuck! You are a bastard. Yes.” His hand shot out and pushed down his stand to the proper angle, the angle of unmistakable demand. “Yes.”

D’Arcy wasted no time; Vitya’s prick disappeared into his throat amid three simultaneous groans. Then it was turnabout after all; Vitaliy was cursing in half-syllables, his hands deep in curls, hips shuddering in restraint, socked feet flexing. His gaze never dropped from Everard.

“Thrust, Vitya,” Everard encouraged. “Go on. He can take it.”

Vitaliy gasped, in, out, louder than Everard had ever heard him. His eyes were wild, pale-lashed, a thing of beauty. “But…”

D’Arcy made an urgent, affirmative noise. Still Vitya held himself back.

“Preston’s right,” Everard said. “I don’t dare touch myself. Not for a second. Thrust,” he demanded.

“I cannot,” Vitya gasped. “No⁠—”

D’Arcy’s wet back-and-forth halted; Everard put his thumb to his nape in reassurance.

“That’s all right,” he said soothingly. “Really. Dear God, look at you. Do you like me watching, Vitya?”

He didn’t need an answer, and Vitaliy knew it; his head fell to the wall, eyes staring up to the rafters, chest heaving; he was rapidly losing the battle against stoicism.

“Yes,” he hissed anyway.

D’Arcy chuckled and resumed. He let up astutely where he needed to let up, to let all of them breathe, stave off release, share incredulous, dazed looks. Then he went again. He really was very good.

Everard hadn’t ever let D’Arcy suck him, because he suspected it was a page, once read aloud, that he could never blot out, never turn back, never shut away. And someday, God willing, he would find out if spilling himself down D’Arcy’s throat was in fact incurably addictive as it looked. Someday, but not today.

Today he wanted—needed—more than just watching.

He went to retrieve oil. Vitaliy watched him go, watched him return, prize in hand. His breathing increased, somehow, and he nodded.

Softly, Everard came beside them both. He nudged, and pulled, and made space. Then he was fully behind Vitya, tracing down the slope of pale back, pushing apart broad thighs with his knee. He splayed his hands across Vitya’s bare stomach, because he could, sank fingertips into the warm, velvet juncture of thigh and groin, the firm muscle beside. He push-pulled him close, aligned his body with his own. Vitya still wasn’t thrusting.

“Shall I help you?” He kissed him on the sensitive bit of his neck, the one D’Arcy had sniffed out immediately, and was rewarded with a deep groan.