With tented fingers to his chest and an increasingly familiar, approving smile, Darius told him to stay. Enri lay sprawled and stretching contentedly in bed, satiated and thinking happily of nothing at all, because Daddy has everything under control. Daddy's stepping out onto the luxurious patio to make a phone call; dimly, now, Enri can hear him swearing at someone for interrupting their time together, and all is right with the world.
This new, unimagined world, where his mind is pleasantly, perpetually hazed. Where he, body and heart and soul, exists at the whim of his god outside of time, outside of any obligation but the demands Daddy sets for him.
There are aches. There's subtle strain and the sting of bites across his skin, and Daddy is with him, written in bruises, speaking in dim flickering pain. (Enri has never minded pain.) (He loves it now.) There are aches, but they don't matter at all. Nothing matters except Daddy, and what Daddy does to Puppy.
(The bruises on Daddy's throat. What Puppy does to Daddy matters, too.)
A curl of pleasure in his abdomen draws a bowed-back stretch and a warm bass hum from him. He wants more. (Darius.) (His Darius.) ((The things they did, how they made the night pass through shadows of forest and bright lit inferno. How they pressed body to body.
How the balmy night air felt on the bare skin of his shoulders, when they dressed and left the chapel and strolled, lingered on dunes by the water. The world was empty of anyone else, an expanse of water and star-shot sky, and they were gods together. And here, in this room (their room), Darius claimed him over and over. Bit and whispered and did - things. Nameless things. Incredible things, turning Enri inside out, playing Enri like an orchestra until he sang.
Howled.
And begged for more.
And called him my adoration. Traded (for now, for this time, for a week) heart for heart.
He has never been as happy as he is here, with Darius. And nothing else matters.))
He's reaching for his phone, thinking maybe he'll interrupt whatever Daddy's got going out there, when the room shudders with the heavy vibration of a fist at the door.
And Enri shudders to stillness with the heavy vibration of a fist in the form of his name.
(He knows the difference between the twins.) (He knows what Morgan sounds like.) (He has only heard him rage once, in twenty-two years.)
The mental haze recedes slightly, enough for panic to set in. Enough for him to mouth fuck and look at the door leading outside - not to see if Daddy (no no no no DARIUS it has to be Darius can't say Daddy can't even think it) Darius is coming to his rescue, but to make sure he stays there, out of sight, out of range. And then he scrambles out of bed in a wild flurry of bare limbs, hunting for clothes. (An immediate wash of guilt, sudden and swift and sure: he shouldn't have moved. Daddy said stay.) Finding his jeans under the bed and kicking into them, thinking I need to move, need to be fast alongside I need to stay, I'm supposed to stay -
(He needs a shirt.)
(No, he needs to get back in bed.)
Because if he's not fast.
(He can't let them see the bites.) (The bruises.) (They'll know.)
(Daddy said stay, he need to go back to bed before Daddy catches him disobeying.)
If he doesn't get to the door.
(Where the fuck is his shirt?!)
(He can't do this, this is wrong, Daddy said stay-)
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This new, unimagined world, where his mind is pleasantly, perpetually hazed. Where he, body and heart and soul, exists at the whim of his god outside of time, outside of any obligation but the demands Daddy sets for him.
There are aches. There's subtle strain and the sting of bites across his skin, and Daddy is with him, written in bruises, speaking in dim flickering pain. (Enri has never minded pain.) (He loves it now.) There are aches, but they don't matter at all. Nothing matters except Daddy, and what Daddy does to Puppy.
(The bruises on Daddy's throat. What Puppy does to Daddy matters, too.)
A curl of pleasure in his abdomen draws a bowed-back stretch and a warm bass hum from him. He wants more. (Darius.) (His Darius.) ((The things they did, how they made the night pass through shadows of forest and bright lit inferno. How they pressed body to body.
How the balmy night air felt on the bare skin of his shoulders, when they dressed and left the chapel and strolled, lingered on dunes by the water. The world was empty of anyone else, an expanse of water and star-shot sky, and they were gods together. And here, in this room (their room), Darius claimed him over and over. Bit and whispered and did - things. Nameless things. Incredible things, turning Enri inside out, playing Enri like an orchestra until he sang.
Howled.
And begged for more.
And called him my adoration. Traded (for now, for this time, for a week) heart for heart.
He has never been as happy as he is here, with Darius. And nothing else matters.))
He's reaching for his phone, thinking maybe he'll interrupt whatever Daddy's got going out there, when the room shudders with the heavy vibration of a fist at the door.
And Enri shudders to stillness with the heavy vibration of a fist in the form of his name.
(He knows the difference between the twins.) (He knows what Morgan sounds like.) (He has only heard him rage once, in twenty-two years.)
The mental haze recedes slightly, enough for panic to set in. Enough for him to mouth fuck and look at the door leading outside - not to see if Daddy (no no no no DARIUS it has to be Darius can't say Daddy can't even think it) Darius is coming to his rescue, but to make sure he stays there, out of sight, out of range. And then he scrambles out of bed in a wild flurry of bare limbs, hunting for clothes. (An immediate wash of guilt, sudden and swift and sure: he shouldn't have moved. Daddy said stay.) Finding his jeans under the bed and kicking into them, thinking I need to move, need to be fast alongside I need to stay, I'm supposed to stay -
(He needs a shirt.)
(No, he needs to get back in bed.)
Because if he's not fast.
(He can't let them see the bites.) (The bruises.) (They'll know.)
(Daddy said stay, he need to go back to bed before Daddy catches him disobeying.)
If he doesn't get to the door.
(Where the fuck is his shirt?!)
(He can't do this, this is wrong, Daddy said stay-)
Morgan is going to bust it the fuck down.