Tears are building up and clumping Vessel's eyelashes, threatening to spill over. His boyfriends hand is tight around his wrist, uncaring of the newer scabbing forming over the wounds Vessel had made. Uncaring of the bruises he had left the day before when he'd come home and wanted the same thing as he always did, to use Vessel as he saw fit without care of how much he begged for him to slow down, to please, please, wait pleaseplease-

His boyfriend crowds close to kiss Vessel as he turns them both, stopping Vessel's weak protest short. Vessel falls back onto the bed with his boyfriends weight holding him down, lips soft on his as they kiss. He loses himself in it despite his apprehension, absorbing the affection like a sponge. Large hands settle on Vessel's hips, thumbing at the waistband of his jeans before traveling up his sides, groping at his body like he was just waiting to sink claws into his flesh and tear him apart.

He breaks away from the kiss to croon in a sickly sweet voice, "I love you, ___, can't I show you just how much? We're dating, baby, this is how I show affection."

Of course Vessel knows his boyfriend loves him. He took him into his home after Vessel left his parents, he was the first man Vessel had ever loved. Introduced him to the real world instead of keeping him secluded like his parents had all his life.

Even if he hurts Vessel sometimes. It's okay, love has always hurt, and Vessel adores his boyfriend. Guilt eats at him for wanting a break from sex.

"I love you, too. So much, but- Can we please not do this now? I'm tired." Vessel fumbles for an excuse, wide eyes pleading as he internally cringes at the nickname.

"You don't mean that, ___. How could you possibly be tired? You're at home all day on your days off. You barely work as it is." His boyfriend says, voice growing colder.

Vessel averts his gaze, knowing the truth if it.

His hands tighten their already firm hold, fingers digging into Vessel's ribs. Vessel is not above begging, not when he hurts this badly, "Please, can we wait until tomorrow at least? I'm still sore from yesterday, please, ___?"

He doesn't even deign to give Vessel a response, moving to pull Vessel's shirt off. His hands are rough as he strips him, then himself, of their clothes. Vessel tries squirming away from the kiss he is given, from the hands holding one hip down to the bed and shoving one leg to the side with the other.

"Please, I can- I can give you a blow job instead-"

"We're in a relationship, ___, and this is what couples do. They fuck. Now be quiet, I know you want this. You're just being a little baby cause of a little pain."

Vessel's tears finally slip over as his boyfriend enters him in one thrust of his hips. It hurts, like Vessel was being torn open from the inside. Every drag in and out of him sends fire through his veins, a soft sob escaping him.

"You always were so quick to cry. It's a little pathetic, ___. You're not a child anymore."

"Hurts." Vessel whispers, voice breaking with his agony.

"Sex hurts sometimes, ___."

No, no, it's never- Sex has never hurt with II or III. They've never-

Vessel's mind is a mess of conflicting thoughts and emotions, swirling within him like a hurricane. He tries desperately to force his body to move, to escape, but everything plays out exactly as he remembers and Vessel is helpless-

He knows that Before, he would have taken this and whatever affection he could scrounge up because this was all he knew. Now, the difference is stark and Vessel is left reeling.

"If you're not going to enjoy it, just take it silently. Besides, I've seen your fucking arms." His boyfriends laugh grates on his nerves, a hand reaching up to cup Vessel's jaw.

For a split second, Vessel mistakes it as affection, then the grip tightens, harsh and unforgiving pressure digging into his skin. He is not a person, but a possession. Something to be owned and used and then discarded. Never loved.

Every moment seems to last forever, the seconds stretching into minutes into what feels like hours. Harsh groans of pleasure sound from above him, Vessel's lip beginning to bleed from how tightly he holds it between his teeth. He wants this to be over, he wants to wake up. He- he wants...

A familiar floaty feeling takes his frazzled mind from his pained body, until a spike of agony forces him back. His boyfriend is saying something, but Vessel can't focus on it through the searing burn emanating from his lower region. "- baby, such a tight hole for me to use."

Vessel whimpers, and his boyfriend snarls, leaning in close. "Fucking stop whining, you were doing so well. Being so quiet for me."

There's a slap to his cheek that feels more like a sledgehammer has made contact with his face, and the floaty feeling returns. He is grateful that this was such a common occurrence Before, his only escape when his attempts at ending his life failed time and time and time again.

Vessel comes back to himself at some point. He doesn't know how long it's been, only that he is alone. The apartment is silent as a grave, a chill settling in to the walls just as it has settled in to Vessel's bones, freezing him from the inside out. It is empty, it is cold, and Vessel is alone.

He almost wants his boyfriend to return just so he won't be here in this bed made for two, alone and bleeding onto the sheets. Would he be warm again, if his boyfriend came back? He's so cold.

He shuts his eyes, sobbing quietly into the pillows. Curled in on himself and covered in sweat and other fluids that weren't his own, Vessel thought about how peaceful death would feel. Blunt nails scratch at his sides, stinging but never breaking skin like Vessel needs them to.

A hand touches his ankle, and Vessel jerks, going as silent as possible, eyes squeezing shut. His arms wrap around himself tighter as the hand is taken away. Everything is quiet as Vessel tries to quiet his sobs, hating how he hadn't mastered his silence at this time in his life. Quieting steps had been easy, stopping himself from oral noises had not been, but it was either he learned or he would hurt.

A weight settles on the bed at Vessel's feet, a hand coming to rest on his bruised ankle. The touch is warm, fingers starting up a slow, gentle caress, featherlight over the deep purple bruising. It confuses Vessel. He knows for a fact his boyfriend left the room and hasn't returned. He could never make so little noise if he tried.

He squints his eyes open through the pain and the fear, coming face to face with their Four. Vessel's eyes widen, excitement flooding his system as he shoots up, the veil of magic that had been cast over his head slipping off. With the veil removed, Vessel's mind clears, and he knows with absolute certainty that this is merely a dream. The movement sends pain through his whole body, and he groans, an action he would never have allowed himself, an action he never could have allowed himself, Before.

As it is, Vessel doesn't remember anything past laying in his bed in pain for hours as he cried. He never moved from his spot, Before, he only curled into himself further and further and wished he would just die like he wanted so desperately.

His mouth is filled with cotton, and every word feels as though it's in danger of being dragged right back into his voice box, but Vessel manages to speak through sheer will alone. "Four, you're back."

The man pauses from where he is trying in vain to pick up the blanket strewn haphazardly over the bed, eyes lit in frustration. There's a short, hesitant nod in response that makes Vessel's smile widen, showcasing normal, human teeth. "I'm sorry you keep seeing me like this. It's a pathetic sight, I'm sure. Did you witness much?"

He freezes, guilty eyes averting their gaze, nodding. There's a pause, then eyes squinting as if confused, head tilting just so to the side. His hands come up to paw at where his mouth should be, not understanding why no sound leaves him.

"You can not seem to speak here. Who I am must enable me to." Vessel muses, tears still dripping down his cheeks as he stares down at the sticky cum peeking out from the back of his thighs where it dried.

He wants to crawl out of his skin, wants to scream and sob, but he is so tired. Somehow still used to this even when it's been so long since he last saw his ex-boyfriend. Vessel is well aware he's trapped in a dream, resigned to reliving his past until he wakes.

Distantly, Vessel thinks he should be embarrassed. He's stark naked, bleeding and bruised, in front of who he knows in his soul will become the Fourth vessel.

A hand slowly enters his line of sight, and without a thought, Vessel reaches out to take it. This man is their Fourth, after all. Or will be. Vessel knows it. Something within him refuses to believe otherwise when the man's presence feels like II, like III.

Their hand is warm in his, made more apparent by how Vessel's skin is still ice cold. It is strange. Vessel is reliving his past, with his human features, and yet his heart still does not beat in his chest.

"We can touch, it seems. Strange." Vessel muses, staring down at the hand in his.

Calloused fingertips brush against Vessel's palm as the man curls them to hold his hand tighter.

"I wish we would stop meeting like this. You always seem to appear when I'm at my most indecent." Vessel says, dead eyes sliding up to meet the beautiful crystal waters of the other man's gaze.

He shakes his head furiously, heartbreak splintering his irises. He holds up two fingers, indicating it is only the second time they've met like this. It makes Vessel smile, taking in the black painted nails and a multitude of bracelets adorning the other man's wrists.

He tries again to reach for the blanket to cover up Vessel's naked form, still trembling with his pain and upset. The blanket slides right through his fingers, and his expressive eyes crease once more in frustration. There is something else, too, a faint tickle at the back of Vessel's mind that tells Vessel that the other is confused, sad, afraid, frustrated.

Taking pity on the other man being afforded the displeasure of seeing Vessel's naked, scarred form, he takes the blanket and covers himself with it.

There's a bruise peeking out by the other man's collar, but it's the one around his throat that Vessel can't tear his eyes from.

"Someone choked you." Vessel murmurs, wanting to reach out and feel along the skin of the other man's throat for damage, but unsure if it is something he has any right to do.

At Vessel's words, their Four flinches back as though struck, a hand coming up to cover the blooming purple in the shape of a large hand.

"My apologies, I wouldn't have wanted someone to point it out when I was bruised that way. I- I didn't have anyone who cared, and the woman who did it certainly didn't give a shit."

The words spill from Vessel's lips before he can stop himself. He must remember this man is a stranger, he does not care for Vessel the way II and III do, no matter how his soul screams that they are all his, and he theirs. He will grow annoyed with Vessel for sharing information that had not needed to be divulged.

Slowly, Four's hand drops to rest in his lap, fisting so tightly his knuckles go white. Once more, no words come out, and Four's frustration grows.

"If I knew how to help you speak, I would. I'm not used to being the one who speaks the most." Vessel whispers, trying to think up a way to help.

His magic stirs under his skin with his growing desire to help, and Vessel remembers how it had swelled under his skin, accumulating in his empty chest when he had spoken to their Four in his last nightmare involving the other man. He didn't notice it then, his lungs desperate for air, enraptured completely by the other man as he was.

It seems his dreams were much like chord progression. Vessel dreams, and it is like he is playing a pattern, over and over and over again until he wakes up. The dreams are a familiar song, fingers playing a melody he had once known by heart. His nightmares are something he had once experienced, and he is merely reliving them.

His magic reacts instinctually to his desire to see Four, to speak with him. The magic releases with Vessel's wishes, like he had played a chord he shouldn't have. While it was a deviation from the natural progression of the pattern he had been playing, it did not seem out of tune. It was more like Vessel had started on a path to create his own melody.

Focusing on his magic, Vessel wills Four to speak, for a mouth to form in its proper place. Nothing happens for a moment, and so Vessel tries again.

It is easier than Vessel thought it would be, his two eyes glowing faintly with the use of his magic.

Four leans back, startled at the sight before him. For just a second, it had been as though this unusual man before him had six glowing crimson eyes, and the winding branches of a stags horns upon his head, but that couldn't- That couldn't possibly be true.

Was this even a man before him at all?

"Your- your eyes-!" Spills from his mouth, and the man reaches up to feel where moments before had been smooth skin.

Four looks as if a picture was taken in motion, the only features caught with clarity being his eyes and mouth. It's an odd sight, but Vessel doesn't mind.

A weary smile twitches onto his lips, "Did you give me my mouth back?"

His voice is noticeably hoarse, irritated throat struggling to formulate the words properly. Vessel is surprised by how thick his accent is, clocking it as Welsh after turning over the way he said the words.

Vessel nods in lieu of a verbal answer to that question, "My name is Vessel, I am truly sorry you keep appearing here."

"Its- Its fine. I'm sorry I keep invading your privacy by being here. These things happening to you... Are they nightmares or memories?"

If it were anyone other than II or III, Vessel would not have answered. Would have shut down entirely at the panic the question would have inspired in him.

But this is their Four, and Vessel wants to get to know him, to be known in turn.

"Memories. Of my time before my God."

"Your God? I don't understand. Who are you? Why... why do I keep appearing here? Why did- You had six eyes a moment ago! I must be going crazy. That's it. I'm hallucinating a pretty man in my dreams to escape from my terrible reality." Four groans into his cupped hands, frustrated and feeling a little like his world is crumbling to pieces around him.

"I didn't mean to frighten you. I know my true appearance is unsightly. I do not know why you keep appearing here, I'm sorry." Vessel says, guilt eating at his bone marrow.

"You didn't scare me. I mean, I am scared... I keep seeing you, a perfect stranger, in my dreams. You're always in horrifying situations and I can't help you no matter how hard I try, but I'm not frightened by you."

"I just- I'm so confused." He continues, finally lifting his head.

A drawn out sigh is released, and with it, the tenseness in his shoulders eases. "My... my name is ___."

There is clear hesitation in Four's eyes, mouth twisting into a grimace. Vessel frowns, apologetic eyes moving up to meet the other man's. He knows this must all seem very strange. "My apologies, but I cannot hear your name."

"Oh, it's-"

The man startles, eyes wide in fear. His head turns as though trying to listen to something only he can hear.

He flinches again, lips thinning, turning watery eyes back to Vessel as his form flickers like a flame beginning to die out. "I'm sorry, I think I'm waking up now. My- my boyfriend is home."

Vessel opens his mouth to speak, to try again for the other man's name before he is gone, but between one blink and the next, shadows have taken him from Vessel's side.

Tears fall down Vessel's cheeks, gold flecks shimmering through the crystalline liquid, more and more gold shining through as Vessel cries.

Vessel is alone again, and...

Four had looked afraid.

::

II wakes up first, surprisingly, with Vessel beside him, cuddled as close as the other dares with III's warm breath ghosting over II's head. He's wrapped himself up in a mound of blankets again, but it brings Vessel closer than he's allowed the others in some time, long arms jutting out of the blankets so his hands can fist over II's chest. Their legs are tangled together, II's breath fanning over Vessel's head and ruffling his messy hair with every exhale. II realizes that this is possibly the closest Vessel has ever gotten, his head tucked under II's chin.

There's a furrow between Vessel's brow that II reaches over slowly to smoothe down. Vessel settles, frazzled bond fuzzy with sleep losing it's edges. That taken care of, II reaches back, patting behind himself blindly. His hand finds III's clothed hip, their warmth snuggled into II's own back, and the difference in his lovers temperatures is stark, like this. Humming, drowsy still, II let's his eyes slip shut as he goes back to sleep.

Some time later, Vessel blinks his eyes open, tears streaking down into his ear and staining his hair.

He's warm, hot even, if temperature could affect him like it used to, between all the blankets he'd wrapped himself in and the other two vessels cuddled closeby.

A shuddering breath is sucked in, then exhaled. In, then out. In, then out. II is snoring above him, strong arms wrapped around Vessel, cocooning him close.

He saw Four, their Four. He knows it deep in his bones, in his very soul. He came back. Somehow, their Four is appearing in Vessel's dreams. It didn't seem as though Vessel had been asleep that long but the sun is beginning to shine through II's curtains half-pulled shut.

"Ves, you 'kay?" III mumbles, lifting his head up from behind II.

"Bad dream." Vessel whispers, half-lidded eyes nearing unfocused, the ghost touch of harsh hands on his body.

III sits up fully, then, eyes wide in alarm. "You alright?" He asks, reaching over to brush unshed tears from Vessel's bottom pair of eyes.

Vessel flinches back, wary eyes watching III's hand closely before settling on the question mark in the center of his palm. III has never raised a hand to hurt him.

"Yes. Yes, I will be. I'm- I know I'm not back Before. Do not worry." Vessel reassures, leaning into the hand cupping his cheek.

Despite his assurances, Vessel doesn't quite believe his own words.

"Did... did Two do that last night?" III asks, unusually quiet.

Their eyes are darting between Vessel's arms and his face, and at first Vessel thinks one of his wounds may be peaking out from the bandages he wears. Turning his bottom pair of eyes down, Vessel's sees what has III looking so stricken.

"Oh. No. That- It wasn't Two. It's from my nightmare."

Circled around Vessel's wrist is a deep purple bruise that aches once Vessel sets his gaze upon it. He knows exactly how he got it. Can still feel the phantom warmth of the person who did it to him, the press of lips to his fingers as the hand wrapped around his wrist tightened painfully.

"Do you want to talk about it?" III says, reaching over II to cup Vessel's cheek.

Vessel flinches away again at the sting, realizing his cheek must be red and splotchy from the hit he'd received. III won't stop staring at him with such worried eyes...

"No. I'm alright. I'd rather not think about it any further. My present is nothing like my past, and that is of more relief than anything." Vessel responds, voice as exhausted as he feels.

"I'm here if you want to talk, Sugar. Always."

III is clearly upset in the bond, but smothers it with reassurances and love so that Vessel doesn't notice. III can protect Vessel while they're awake, but how are he and II to protect Vessel in his dreams? From people who hurt him in his past and still, even now, manage to hurt him when they're no longer around?

"I appreciate your words more than you'll ever know, Three. Thank you." Vessel whispers, nuzzling into III's hand.

III smiles, a sad little thing that still manages to show his adoration for Vessel, leaning over II entirely to kiss Vessel's chapped lips.

Vessel kisses back, one hand coming up to hold III's wrist that's still cupping his cheek, more carefully now. Vessel will admit he gets a little lost in it, lost in the comfort III provides, grounding him more and more into this moment as his nightmare begins to truly slip from the forefront of his mind. He gets so blessedly lost in III that neither he nor III realize II has woken up between them.

"Are you seriously kissing over me right now?" II laughs, voice husky with sleep.

"Ves is just irresistible. I couldn't help myself."

"He is, isn't he?" II agrees, sitting up when III moves aside.

He takes Vessel with him, arms wrapped around him to pull him up and onto his lap without any difficulty. Vessel is still warm, swaddled in blankets as he is, leaning into II as the other holds him. The strength II wields has always endeared Vessel, but it leaves him wondering how easily the smaller man could manhandle Vessel's bigger frame into submission.

The thought startles Vessel a little, though it doesn't unsettle him like he thought it would. He'd been manhandled in his nightmare, too, but II is nothing like that. II wouldn't hurt him, and Vessel might even enjoy it.

Releasing a slow, unneeded breath, Vessel rests his palm on II's bare chest, feeling the steady thumping of his heartbeat under Vessel's palm. His skin is smoothe under Vessel's fingers, and he understands entirely when a glance at III shows the other man enraptured by the bared expanse of II's chest, the slender curve of his neck.

III gasps suddenly, leaning in close on II's other side. "Did Ves leave that on you?"

Vessel shrinks into himself, curling his thin but taller frame into II as much as possible, ashamed.

Stark against the pale skin of II's neck towards his shoulder is a bruise, pinprick scabs from Vessel's sharp canines and indents from his other teeth highlighted with the different shades of purple.

"He did." II's voice is smug, a hand petting at Vessel's nape soothingly, shoving reassurance thickly down the bond, "It'll last longer than yours did."

"That's no fair. I want one, too." III whines, turning to Vessel.

They lean down so they can meet Vessel's eyes, still trying to hide himself with his head tucked into II's collarbone. "Sugar, can you give me one?"

III's eyes are wide and pleading, a pout forming on his pink lips to appear more innocent.

He looks adorable, the sight of him making Vessel want to agree. His pouty expression makes Vessel want to kiss him long and hard, to steal the breath in III's lungs for his own. Mentally shaking his head, Vessel clears his mind of the preposterous thought. He can't be too much, too needy.

Vessel bites at his lip nervously, uncertain, asking quietly, "Right now?"

"I mean, I don't mind right now, if you want to. I understand if it's only a sexual thing for you, though." III tries not to frown too harshly, gentling their voice so his reply hopefully doesn't freak Vessel out even more.

"Always want to bite. Bit too hard on Two, didn't mean to make him bleed."

The lie tastes like ash on his tongue.

Vessel likes their skin beneath his teeth, feeling how alive they are, the pump of their heart through their pulse points. Loved the taste of II's blood spilling into his mouth. Wants his own blood spilled the same ways. Wants his lovers teeth to be indented into his skin forever, scarred and owned by the only people to ever truly love him.

He'd understand if some punishment was in store for him, regardless of the other two's strange willingness to let him bite them.

"Bite me whenever you want then. During or outside of sex. I love the marks you leave, Sugar. Shows I'm yours." III repeats his words from a conversation they'd had what felt like eons ago.

They don't mind though. They'll tell Vessel that the things he believes are wrong or not allowed are perfectly acceptable here with them, no matter how long it takes for the notion to stick.

"I-I'll give you one... if you want me to." Vessel blurts, face still hidden away.

III grins, bright and wide, reaching forward to pull Vessel out of II's hold and onto his own lap. Immediately, Vessel is consumed by the intense heat of III's kiss, tongue swiping at his lower lip, teeth pulling at the sensitive skin.

III eventually pulls away, breathless as their smile turns sly, pressing a wet kiss to Vessel's cheek.

III's heated gaze slides over to II's form, only his lower half hidden by a blanket. They drink in the sight of him hungrily, glancing between II and Vessel as if a feast had been laid before him.

"Can we try something new, sir?" Their voice is dripping with desire, a noticeable bulge pressing into Vessel's thigh from his place on III's lap.

Subtle interest swirls in Vessel's gut, a phantom warmth settling into his bones as desire creeps up his spine.

II eye's them suspiciously but not without interest, "What do you have in mind?"

"Ever heard of spitroasting? I, for one, am quite interested in being fucked however it was you ruined Vessel last night, but I don't want to leave our pretty boy out. I could give him a blowjob while you fuck me."

Vessel looks between them, and carefully hides away how his memories have dimmed the light II had cast over him when they'd made love the night before. He'd been so happy, and then he'd fallen asleep, exhausted from how well fucked II had left him and having finished the song he needed to write. He wants II, wants the shorter man to make love to him again. He wants that gentleness, needs it after his nightmare. Vessel can only hope that II will be as loving as the night before.

He wants III, too. Wants to get lost in the others' kisses, their touch. Wants to be consumed by III and drown in all they have to offer. Vessel is undeserving of their love but he stills wants every bit of it they're willing to gift him.

If they all have sex with each other at the same time...

It is a daunting scenario, to be with both of his lovers at the same time. If he hadn't ruined the first blow job he'd ever received, would it have escalated into something like this?

"Does that sound like something you would be interested in, sweetheart?" II's voice is gentle as always, ever serious about Vessel's continued comfort.

Vessel smiles minutely, a lopsided, hesitant thing, but he tells no lie when he says, "I would like to try that."

The admission leaves him a little queasy, feeling as though he is being too bold for agreeing, even if they offered the idea up. Besides, it will be easier knowing III wants the middle spot.

III leans closer to kiss him again, hands coming to hold Vessel's bare hip under the blankets and pull him closer. Vessel wishes there weren't quite so many layers between them, but it is at his own behest.

They nip more insistently at Vessel's lower lip, pulling on the chapped skin with their teeth and letting it pop back into place. Slowly, one hand slides from Vessel's hip to his lower back, teasingly lowering to the swell of Vessel's bare ass.

A breathy sigh escapes Vessel, daring to kiss back with more fervor.

"Ah, ah, boys. Breakfast first. I would like to continue last night's activities, of course, once we're done." II's mirthful eyes slide to Vessel's exhausted form, "If you want to, Ves."

Vessel wants to tell him that as tired as he is, he doesn't think the one round yesterday satiated him. He fears being too needy though, and keeps that bit of information to himself.

III agrees easily, pulling away from Vessel and laying their head on his shoulder, "Fine with me, Doll. Is that alright, Sugar?"

Vessel finds himself nodding, mind still reeling from all the turns things have taken since he'd woken up.

II and III share a concerned glance, the action escaping Vessel's notice. It wasn't hard to feel the turmoil still in Vessel's bond. The nightmare he'd had clearly affected him more than he has said, maybe even more than Vessel himself realizes.

III wolf whistles when II gets out from under the large blanket, the only thing that had been keeping his nude form hidden. The smirk II gives III sends more fire down Vessel's spine, a growing desire burning within him. Vessel follows, receiving his own whistle as well, even if Vessel's upper half was still clothed.

They make their way down to the kitchen after Vessel and II get dressed. III wrapped around II all the way to the kitchen, nearly toppling the both of them down the stairs. Vessel stops to feed Elvira and pet her for a few minutes while II fusses about the kitchen. She purrs as he does so, her fur so soft between his fingers as she lets out strange cat noises that Vessel cannot name.

Vessel finds himself to be quite clingy the entire time II's cooks a quick breakfast. He wants to hold him, to press up close and feel the length and warmth of II's body against him. He wants to hold or be held, but settles with a hand clutching the back hem of II's shirt as he works, feeling guilty for it.

III catches Vessel by the bicep gently, as he follows behind II again, pulling him between their legs where they sit on the counter in an open space not taken up by the ingredients II had gotten out from the fridge.

"Hello, Sugar." III says with a blinding grin, full of energy despite having woken up a few minutes prior.

Unlike II, who is meandering about the kitchen in a sleepy but determined haze. It made Vessel following him around easier, though.

"Hello." Vessel replies quietly, leaning into the hands III is using to cradle his face.

"This alright?" III asks, and Vessel makes a noise of confusion, trapped in the affection that makes his mind swim pleasantly.

"My hands, Ves. Not making you uncomfortable like this?" III asks again, a low sizzling noise beginning to emit from the stove top as II puts on some bacon.

Vessel hums in disagreement, eyes slipping closed momentarily.

"What are you?" III asks, squishing Vessel's cheeks.

"A vessel?" Vessel responds, voice distorted, to which III laughs.

"You're my precious, pretty sandwich." III says, which almost confuses Vessel enough to make him open his eyes, ignoring the blush their words caused.

II snorts while flipping over a piece of bacon, "If anyone's a sandwich, honey, it'll be you once your request is fulfilled."

"Not much of a sandwich." III disagrees, lips pursing into a pout, "Ves won't be trapping me between the two of you."

The hands on Vessel's face slowly release him from their gentle grasp, and Vessel reluctantly opens his eyes. Long arms settle around Vessel's stomach, fingers tracing patterns into Vessel's skin through his clothes. Somewhat held and being shown affection, Vessel relaxes further. He didn't even realize his muscles had been tense.

"So pouty about it, you little brat, even when it is your request." II snarks, throwing a grin over his shoulder.

Vessel listens to them bicker back and forth, only half paying attention.

A song gets caught in his head, a certain tune playing on loop. It's one of the ones they'd written and finally recorded recently at their labels studio in the city Sleep had brought them to, not that long ago. Nick had been blessedly absent, as it was Vessel and II who recorded everything while III sat in the other room with the man who was helping them produce everything. The lack of the intimidating man made it easier for Vessel to sing with his full voice long enough to record all three songs they'd need for the EP coming out soon.

Vessel starts humming it quietly, interrupted only by the soft kisses III places on his lips occasionally. Neither II nor III reprimand him for the soft noise.

It was not something he was allowed to do, Before.

All throughout breakfast, a bit of arousal had simmered in the bond, all of the vessels anticipating what comes next. It was a palpable thing in the air between them, sizzling through the bond like a livewire.

"Do you want to continue where we left off, Vessel? You can say no."

"I want to, yes."

II plants a soft, tender kiss to Vessel's lips, the taller man instinctually leaning down for him to do so.

Back in II's room, Vessel finds himself quite thankful that things had not immediately gone sexual as soon as they'd all awoken. The kisses had been fine, enjoyable and welcome, but... Vessel fears he may have been too caught up in his nightmare. He likely would have ruined the experience if he was so pathetic that something triggered him.

The respite over breakfast had been needed, Vessel realizes with no small amount of reluctance. He thinks that II and III knew that and feels a surge of uncontrollable love for them. Love feels like too shallow of a word to describe his adoration and devotion.

"On the bed boys." II orders, keeping his voice light to keep Vessel's nerves from acting up.

"Make me, sir." III responds, smirking with a flutter of his long eyelashes.

Vessel gapes from where he's already getting onto the bed without complaint. II's pretty blue eyes brighten, narrowing into slits.

"Three." He warns, but the other only laughs, booking it out of the room.

II follows behind a second later, shaking off the surprised expression. Footsteps stomp down the staircase, a small thud following. Vessel finds himself out of the room and leaning over the banister to watch, worry warring for control over his minor interest and confusion.

II is chasing III towards the foyer where they come to a standstill. "Don't you dare go out that front door, Three." II warns again, and III looks as though he's seriously considering going against the warning.

"Why not, sir? We'd probably like it. Could probably rope Ves into it. Maybe we'd catch a glimpse of what he looked like killing my murderers."

III grins, all teeth as he watches II's eyes light up in interest. There is no response, but III knows II's got the idea in his head now. It's only a matter of time.

They twitch towards the front door, a foot sliding just so to the side as though intending to make a break for it. II follows the action, only for III to speed past him towards the living room. By some miracle, II catches III by the arm and spins them around to pull them down into a searing kiss. III is grinning into it, unable to contain their laughter. It cuts off into a squeak as II hefts them up and over his shoulder before starting towards the staircase.

Vessel's concern had slipped away at some point once he noticed how much they were both enjoying the game in the bond. And that's what it was, wasn't it? A game?

Vessel follows behind II once he nears, watching from his place behind the both of them as III grins in satisfaction, an elbow helping keep their hand up under his chin.

III is tossed onto the bed unceremoniously, II close behind as he starts stripping III of his shirt then pants. Left in only their boxers, II is unrelenting in his touching. Hands paw at III's chest, sliding over his shoulders and feeling along the soft flesh of their stomach. All the while II smothers him in deep kiss after deep kiss, their panting breaths the only sound in the room as Vessel watches from beside the bed.

II shoves III back onto the bed, their lavender hair spilling around them like a halo, then turns to speak to Vessel.

"Sweetheart, how would you feel about getting him ready for my cock?"

Nervous eyes flit between the two of them, both breathless and red in the face. "I've never... done that before."

II smiles softly, a hand petting up and down the happy trail leading down from III's stomach. He looks ruined already, utterly ravenous for more attention.

"I can guide you through it, don't worry."

With no small amount of trepidation, Vessel nods. Both II and III light up like he'd gifted them the stars in the night sky.

"Come here, sweetheart." II beckons Vessel forward, "Are you going to be good for Vessel, Three? No bratting around with him, you hear me? We don't want to scare him off."

"Yes, sir. I'll be good for him."

"Good boy."

II moves aside to make space for Vessel's body to take his place. III is laid out below him, nearly bared completely. "Take off their underwear, if you would, Ves."

Nimble fingers reach out to grip the waistband of III's underwear, starting a slow slide of them down III's hips. Vessel finds himself selfishly impatient, and soon enough III is completely exposed, hard cock leaking precum and looking positively desperate.

Vessel finds he wants to touch as II did, hesitantly reaching out to feel III's chest, rubbing a thumb over a pert nipple. III lets out a breathy whine, arching into the touch. Their pretty eyes never straying from Vessel, even when four eyes move over to II in question, as if to ask if he's doing this right. The bottom pair remains locked on III's form, taking in every detail possible and trying to commit it to memory.

"You're doing well, Vessel. Isn't he, Three? Isn't our pretty boyfriend doing so well?"

III nods rapidly, growing impossibly harder. "So good. He's being so good. Keep touching me, please, please, Ves." III whines out, "Wanna feel your hands around my cock. Please, I'll be good."

Vessel didn't realize that having III below him, moaning, begging, desperate, would arouse him so much, and yet...

And yet-

Vessel slides his hand down III's chest, through their happy trail. Ghosting over the markings along his pelvis. He takes III's cock in hand, leaving his fingers wrapped around it as he looks over to II for permission.

"Go ahead and stroke him, Ves. You're both being so good for me." II's praise leaves Vessel warm and fuzzy inside, a thumb hesitantly running over III's leaking tip, smearing precum down the shaft.

"I- I'm not sure-" Vessel starts, anxiety creeping up on him heavily.

"Its okay, love, you won't mess anything up. Like this." II wraps his hand around Vessel's helping him glide his hand up and down on III's dick.

II's hand moves away from Vessel's own too soon for Vessel's liking, III whining out, "But that was so hot. Why'd you stop?"

"Ves has it from here. Just needed a little reassurance. Maybe some other time, beautiful." II caresses III's bicep, dragging his nails ever so gently along III's skin.

Unsure, Vessel starts up a slow stroking motion on his own, up and down III's hard cock held gently in his large hand. It isn't long before III is squirming, bucking their hips up into Vessel's hand. "Pictures, sir? Can you take pictures for me?"

"Such a needy thing, aren't you? Are you okay with photos, Ves?" II looks to Vessel for an answer.

"Of this?" Vessel tilts his head, confused, not pausing his ministrations as one pair of eyes slides to II then away again with his nerves.

"Wanna have pictures of this, Sugar. Won't-" III cuts himself off with a moan, "Won't take any if you say no."

Vessel shrugs, not really caring, not understanding. If III wants photos, then III can have them. II catches his gaze, a question in them and along the bond. Vessel nods once, a small smile pulling at his lips and II nods back, reaching for his phone on the nightstand. Vessel doesn't pay much attention to what sorts of photos II is taking, focusing instead on how every brush of Vessel's other hand ghosting along III's skin causes him to twitch beneath his fingers. Just touching III is turning them into a moaning mess, and Vessel is enraptured. He is doing this to him?

"Need you so bad, Ves, need your fingers in me." III's begging has nearly turned unintelligible, but Vessel's cheeks are red anyway, attention caught entirely by III and how pretty they look like this.

"Doesn't he beg so nicely, Ves? He's being such a good boy, we don't want to keep him waiting any longer, do we?" II hums, a calloused finger tracing the curve of a question mark freckle on III's chest.

Vessel's head tilts, taking in the beauty before him. No, Vessel doesn't think he wants to keep III waiting any longer, no matter how nervous he is.

"No." He murmurs, flushing as he dares to say, "They really are being good."

II presses a kiss to Vessel's cheek as he moves to get the bottle of lube from his nightstand drawer.

"Here, Ves. On your fingers." II let's Vessel put some of the lube on two fingers, the oily sensation strange.

Vessel chances a glance at III as II instructs him to start off with one finger. Aroused desperation looks good on III, Vessel decides, slowly inserting one finger into the tight hole of III's ass. III immediately starts begging for more, and with a glance at II, Vessel puts another finger in when he receives an encouraging nod.

III is tight around Vessel's fingers, and he watches in fascination as III grows redder, squirming against the bedsheets as Vessel moves two fingers in and out of them.

They squirm, trying in vain to move themselves on Vessel's fingers. II's hand holding one hip down to the bed prevents it, his mouth sucking a bruise around III's nipple. He tries to imprint this moment into memory. Vessel never knew he had this kind of sway over III and their pleasure. It makes Vessel himself feel good, to be able to bring III pleasure like this. It felt different, somehow, to giving III a blow job.

"Feel up to another finger, honey?" II asks, leaning over III as he tweaks a wet, reddened nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

"Y-yes sir." III manages around a moan, and Vessel wants to swallow the sound with his lips.

II beats him to it, kissing III and immediately sticking his tongue into III's mouth. A little nervous now that II isn't exactly keeping an eye on what Vessel is doing, he prods a third finger at III's hole without ever dipping more than his fingertip in. It leaves III trying to move himself down to take Vessel's fingers himself, eager to fuck himself on them.

"Please Ves, I can take it. I promise. Fill me more, please." III begs between pants when II gives them a break to breathe.

"You heard them, Ves. Go on." II says, swollen lips pulled into an urging smirk.

Vessel finally inserts a third finger, and III groans loudly at the stretch of it. For a moment, Vessel fears he hurt them. The barest hints of panic start seeping into the empty cavity of his chest. If his heart was properly his own, it would be racing. Instead, the single vine in II's room, crawling along his ceiling, writhes to the tune of Vessel's heart, beating somewhere in this manor's walls.

The purposeful tidal wave of III's pleasure abates Vessel's fears before they truly start.

"You're being such a good boy for us, Three. Grind against Ves' fingers while I get undressed, okay?" Nodding vigorously, barely paying II any attention, III grinds down onto Vessel's fingers.

Gasping moans fall from III's lips, and Vessel still wants to swallow the sound. Glad for his height in a way he'd never been before, Vessel leans over III between their spread legs to kiss them, one hand still fucking into their ass and the other holding his weight up by III's head.

Every gasp of pleasure is caught with Vessel's lips, inhaled into his own lungs as though he could use it to fuel his own body. To make III apart of him in some way. Vessel wants to bite him, sink his teeth into the soft flesh of III's neck and mark him as his, the same way he did to II. The thought still frightens him, shame ever present when he sees the scabbed over teeth indents, the bruising on II's neck.

And still Vessel wants.

Vessel parts from III to place a hesitant, featherlight kiss against their jaw. Dazed eyes manage to focus long enough to meet one pair of Vessel's own, so soft and adoring. Vessel cannot deny the way they feel about him anymore.

Though, Whether it is a lasting love is never certain.

Vessel nips the spot on III's jaw that he'd just kissed, scrutinizing both the bond and III's face for any discomfort or anger. He finds none, only pleasure and love and... and pride.

Pride in him.

"Love you, Ves. I love you." III mutters like a mantra as Vessel kisses down his neck, nipping here and there but never daring to truly bite like he wants to.

Vessel finds himself wanting to cry, pressing a kiss into the side of III's neck where shoulder and neck meet. The opposite side to II's bruised bite mark.

He lets his fangs graze the skin, pulling away before he can give into his urge.

While III is whining for Vessel to come back, he turns his head to find II watching them, a tender expression juxtaposed by the sheer desire otherwise occupying the bond.

"He did say you could bite them." II murmurs, leaning in close to Vessel at III's side, warm breath ghosting against Vessel's lips.

"I- I will. I just-" Vessel's swallows around the lump suddenly in his throat, letting his fingers slip from III's looser heat, "I can't help but... hesitate. My past lingers like a ghost."

"I know, my love. You've done so well already. I can take care of Three, if you want to take a break or sit this out entirely."

Desperation to continue makes Vessel blurt a staunch refusal. "No, I want to continue. I swear it. I-"

Vessel looks back down at III when a hand comes into his peripherals, brushing his cheek. "Bite me. Won't be mad."

Managing to hook their fingers around Vessel's nape, III pulls Vessel back down into a kiss as they lift themselves up from the bed. II mouths at Vessel's shoulder through his shirt, a hand slipping under the soft material to hold him by the hip. Slowly, and without much pressure, III breaks the kiss and starts guiding Vessel's head down towards his neck.

Vessel could pull away so easily if he wanted to. He doesn't.

III's skin is warm beneath Vessel's chapped lips, an unsure breath cool against that heat. "Are you sure?" Vessel murmurs, easily heard so close to III's ear.

A shiver shoots down III's spine at the gentle brush of Vessel's lips against their skin. "I'm very sure, Sugar. Bite me."

Tentatively, Vessel's tongue pokes out to swipe a small stripe against III's skin, an open mouthed kiss being pressed in right after. Sharp canines meet supple flesh, and Vessel bites.

Too panicked the first time Vessel had bitten III like this, it's nice to finally be able to commit their taste to memory. To feel their pulse against his teeth, beneath his tongue.

II and III are alive in ways Vessel isn't anymore, and biting them feels like some unholy attempt at reclaiming some of that life.

Even if he was the one who cast his humanity aside, even if he was the one who ended his own life in the first place.

It was the greatest thing Vessel had ever done.

III moans loudly, the sound right in Vessel's ear and he knows no sound will ever compare to the majesty of that noise. Sounds of pleasure never meant anything to Vessel, Before. It was his partners taking what they wanted from him and enjoying it, just as he wanted. No matter how it hurt, no matter how it left him feeling a little less like himself every time-

If Vessel could bottle up the sound III just made and listen to only it for the rest of his life, he would.

Panting moans spill from III's lips each time Vessel applies more and more pressure. He does not allow himself to break skin.

III writhes below him, rutting their hips up in search of friction against their leaking cock. He manages to brush up against Vessel's own hard length often enough for their shared pleasure to drip into the bond. The closeness worries Vessel, fearing for the safety of his secret, but he resolves himself to remain conscious of how close his chest gets to III's.

When Vessel feels the urge to break skin, a violent need rearing up within him, he pulls away. Takes in the beginnings of a bruise rising up under III's skin and feels a shame he carefully hides.

He notices it is... lesser now. Especially at the sight of III's wide, pleasured grin.

"Can you fuck me now, sir? Wanna feel you both. Need you so bad, can't take it anymore."

II presses another kiss to Vessel's shoulder, a soft murmur of affection leaving his lips before he turns to smirk down at III, "Did Ves work you open enough to take me?"

"He did, sir. Opened me up so well for your cock." III groans, bared dick brushing against Vessel's again.

Vessel's face is aflame with an odd mix of shyness and arousal, feeling an urge to hide his face away. He doesn't have his mask though, has felt... safe enough to leave it in his room lately. Except for when Nick is over.

"We'll see. On all fours." Despite the blunt command, II's voice remains affectionately tender.

"If I knew you liked dogs, sir, I would've said yes to the collar."

III's words startle a surprised laugh out of II as Vessel moves away from III enough for the other to get up and do as told.

"Lay against the pillows, Ves. You'll need your pants and underwear off." II's words to Vessel are noticeably softer, less command, more statement.

If Vessel refused, he thinks that II would listen.

Vessel strips himself of his bottom layer of clothing, situating himself against the pillows. He finds himself here often, in comfort. Always in comfort, something that was a luxury, Before. Now, it is something he is growing used to. Hesitantly. He fears how familiar he is becoming with soft touches, be they human or from something else. Fears the day they no longer love him and he is to go back to the cold, dark emptiness of loneliness. His only respite will be when he finally ends himself as he wants.

II gets behind III, on his knees towards the end of the bed, fully unclothed. A generous bit of lube has been applied to his leaking cock, heavy between his legs as he presses it up against III's ass to grind against them. Vessel watches the both of them, glancing between II and III in front of him while he waits for one of them to do something.

"Take him in your mouth first, Three, then I'll enter you."

"Yes, sir." III responds cheekily, leaning down with his elbows to hold himself up a bit above the bed.

There's a small yelp as II grabs III's hips and pulls them back more insistently against his cock. Vessel gets a lovely view of III's face turning about as red as his own.

A kitten lick is dragged along Vessel's tip, a kiss placed right after. III suckles at the leaking tip. The sensation and the sight before him leaves Vessel's mind hazy with desire already, a slow build up since breakfast that finally seems to be making itself unignorable. As III starts working Vessel's cock into his eager mouth, Vessel covers the lower half of his face with a hand in bashfulness.

He had grown used to blowjobs and the particular intimacy of them over the weeks he'd been practicing with III, but sometimes he can't help but become overwhelmed by the care they show him and... and how pretty III looks taking him in his mouth.

Vessel's other hand comes to III's face to caress his cheek, a thumb swiping over III's few question mark freckles, the human curve of his ear. II is struck by the lack of hesitancy in Vessel's movements. The two of them are familiar with this, which shouldn't surprise II. He'd felt it in the bond every time they went to each other for a blow job, and III had vaguely informed him of how well Vessel had been doing, palming at II's own cock in his jeans, how comfortable he was becoming with it. Had informed him how Vessel had insisted (insisted! On his own!) That he didn't want to be the reason II and III didn't enjoy each other's bodies, even if he wasn't with them.

But to see it...

Vessel had worked hard to grow comfortable with III in this way, and III had clearly worked hard to keep Vessel feeling safe. There is no room for jealousy in II's heart, not when he can see how much progress has been made. Not when he adores them both so much he feels as if his heart would burst right out of his chest at the mere sight of them sleeping beside him. Well, on the days he actually wakes up before them, as few and far between as that is.

Soft eyes like rubies, glowing gently, hold III's watery gaze as II slowly pushes into them, the movement pushing III's mouth further down Vessel's cock until the tip hits the back of their throat. The tears spill over, and Vessel adoringly wipes them away.

Seated inside to the hilt, II starts up a slow, dragging pace, fucking into III as slowly as he had Vessel the night before.

"Suck him. Don't let me keep you from taking care of Vessel."

III moans, unused to just how slow and careful II is being, familiar with II's rougher, controlled pace. They're determined to pleasure Vessel well, regardless of how being taken from behind is leeching all of his brain power into focusing on II's thick cock dragging in and out of him.

Alternating between sucking and laving their tongue along the underside of Vessel's shaft, III does as ordered without a fuss. II pulls on III's hair, long, loose curls spilling out from between his fingers as III's head tilts back just enough to limit airsupply for a couple seconds. Only III's grip on Vessel's hips, and their unwillingness to part from him, keep him from popping off Vessel's cock entirely in surprise. The moan they let out is absolutely delicious, muffled around Vessel's dick but still so beautiful of a sound. II snaps a photo. Then another of the sinful arch that III's back has bent into.

III didn't think that the slow pace would bring him to orgasm so quickly, and yet he finds himself nearing it, feeling Vessel's release coming soon, too. Focusing their attention on Vessel, III waits for II to do as he usually does. Almost eagerly.

Panting moans make their way from III's occupied mouth, mixing with II's own smaller grunts of pleasure. One of Vessel's legs, both bent at the knee by III's shoulders, twitch and move involuntarily as pleasure makes Vessel's nerves fizzle.

Just before III reaches his end, II stops moving, his hand leaving their hair to trail down his spine. Meanwhile, Vessel's release hits him without interruption, spurred on by the desperate whine that III emits when he's not allowed to cum. Vessel is shoved into blissful oversensitivity while III swallows his spend and then continues sucking, though with more difficulty, now. His own tears have made their way down his cheeks, golden splatters making a mess of his shirt and face.

"Good boy. Did you swallow all of it?" II asks, tracing the movement of a flame on III's back.

III's humming agreement is muffled but understood clearly, a fresh wave of tears falling from their eyes. Grinding their hips back into II, III hopes to force him to move faster. "Now, now, you asked to be fucked like Vessel was. I'll be going no faster than this."

"You-" Vessel starts around a gasping breath as III whines, "Didn't edge me."

"I didn't think you'd want me to. Three and I happen to like it. Well," II has to stop to pull himself from the edge again, stilling his hips as III whines again, trying to fuck themselves back on his cock without permission.

As punishment, II pulls out almost to the tip, the hand not holding his phone keeping III's lower half immobile with a hand on his hip. III sends down petulant aggravation, but it's overshadowed by how much they're still enjoying themselves so II doesn't take it to heart.

"Its more like Three let's me edge myself and I take satisfaction from edging him too." II's smirk is devious but not unkind, and Vessel thinks it's a fitting look for him.

"Don't they look so pretty like this? Desperate for my cock? Hm, color, Three?"

III squeezes Vessel's hips once in answer, and recognizing the signal easily, answers for him. "He is very pretty. The prettiest." Vessel murmurs, wiping away stray tears off III's flushed cheeks.

"My good boys. Learned the color system even non-verbally."

II fucks into III slowly again, harsh pants and whiny moans leave III as he tries his hardest to continue sucking Vessel's cock. Their bond is overwhelmed with pleasure, their orgasm approaching rapidly once II is fully back inside them again. Just at the edge of it, II pulls out to the tip, again, and III almost wails with how close they were, only to have it taken from them.

Their mind is caught between the hefty weight of Vessel's thick cock in their mouth, gasping for air as the girth chokes him, and the soft, gentle way II is fucking into them from behind, a hand splayed over the sigil right above his tailbone. It sends shocks of pleasure every time II brushes a thumb along one of the lines.

III scrapes his teeth gently along Vessel's shaft, and Vessel moans. The click of the camera shutter goes unnoticed, II barely registering the immediate, instinctual reaction.

The sound dumbfounds III, the soft timbre of it playing on loop in their mind. II thrusts up into III rougher than he has this entire time, causing III to let out a moan of their own. The vibrations of III's throat around Vessel's cock paired with Vessel's oversensitivity bring him to the edge and once more Vessel moans. It's the prettiest thing they've ever heard and II and III will be damned if it's the last time. II loses the gentle pace he'd set, no longer eager to edge himself, and subsequently III, into oblivion. Fucking into III in earnest, III does nothing to stop the grunts and moans and whines of pleasure, small sounds being pulled from Vessel from the stimulation to his cock.

"Sound so pretty, Ves." II pants, and Vessel instinctually clamps his mouth shut at even the mention of him making noise.

III groans in distress, petting at Vessel's thighs soothingly, trying to reassure him.

"'M sorry." Vessel mumbles, face red with pleasure and shame.

He feels... not as scared as he thought he was going to. Neither II or III look mad... His past partners would have been, would have hurt him, but- Vessel knows they're nothing like them.

"Nothing to apologize for, sweetheart. Color?" II slows again to make sure Vessel is alright.

It takes a moment for Vessel to answer, indecision blatant on his face.

"Green." So low it was nearly a mumble, II accepts the answer when a gentle probing along the bond only reveals embarrassment, and perhaps some trepidation.

"Will you moan for us again? We want to hear you. You sounded absolutely divine." II reaches over to brush some of Vessel's half dried tears, only managing to smear them.

Vessel didn't know he could moan like that at all. His times with II and III have always made him want to, involuntarily, but he'd never allowed himself to entertain the thought of loosening his control like that.

And they want to hear more?

Chancing a glance down at III with one pair of his eyes finds Vessel swimming in overwhelming affection, directed at him. If III's mouth wasn't otherwise occupied still, Vessel is sure he would be smiling up at him.

Vessel gives a short nod to II, and tentatively, he starts thrusting again. It is back to its snail-like pace, but the warm bubble of love around them seems stronger, along with the sexual tension.

Vessel does not let himself get too loud, he is sure he will never be able to anyway, but with every sound he lets loose, II and III do not dare tear their eyes away. They watch in utter fascination the way Vessel's mouth parts around the sounds they pull from him, eager to hear every one. Not a sound is heard except for skin against skin and sounds they all make in their shared pleasure.

Vessel carefully tucks a strand of III's hair behind his ear, slow thrusts from II's hips being the only thing actively moving III's mouth along his cock now. Though, Vessel is too enraptured with III below him to properly notice this. III is content to let himself be used this way, captivated in turn by the sight above him, the feel of II inside him, and the siren call of Vessel's low moans.

II's phone camera clicks, once, twice, before being tossed to the side as he moves every ounce of attention to his lovers. They all find their release nearly at once, II not bothering to edge himself or III again. With no limitations, and the bond heightening every sensation they feel and tripling it as pleasure passes all along the tether connecting their souls, Vessel lets himself be heard.

The others positively revel in it.

II slips out of III first, getting off the bed. Vessel isn't terribly worried over it, not being left alone like Before. III pulls off of Vessel's cock with one last lick up the shaft, arms coming to wrap around Vessel's waist as they scoot up the bed to rest their head on his stomach.

The bedsheets are sticky under him, cum having splattered everywhere, and II urges them up when he returns.

"Go on, up, up, let me change the sheets."

III groans as they both stand, hanging off of Vessel, arms around his shoulders and head leant on Vessel's own.

"Couldn't this have waited, Doll? Didn't even let us bask in the afterglow." III pouts, nuzzling his nose into Vessel's messy hair.

"We've made a mess of my bed with cum. I, for one, don't want to lay in it." II states bluntly, already fitting a new set of sheets over the mattress.

"You certainly like painting us with it." III mutters, indignant, catching the wet cloth II tosses directly at their face long before it ever nears.

Vessel doesn't even have a chance to flinch back, blinking slowly and dazed from all the sex and pleasure. One eyelid is later than all the others, like a frog blinking out of time.

"What was that?"

"Oh, nothing, sir." III responds innocently, and Vessel giggles lightly, letting III take the lead in cleaning Vessel's dick off.

Vessel is content no matter where they are, as long as he's with them. Though, he wouldn't mind having his clothes on again.

Vessel is finishing up with wiping III up, less hesitantly than II had last seen him to be with that particular aspect of aftercare, when II finishes changing the sheets.

"Alright, beds made. Cuddle time." II states, walking over and hefting both III and Vessel up into his arms.

A comical sight, to be sure.

Vessel is content to hang there, held up in II's strong arms and looking like a cat stretched out. III, on the other hand, shrieks, laughing and flailing, careful not to hit II or Vessel because its all in good fun. "Put me down you fucking gremlin! Release me!"

"No."

Despite his answer, II does set them down on the bed, falling in after them and smothering his lovers with kisses.

"Can I have my clothes now?" Vessel mumbles when II finally gives him a break to breathe, as if Vessel needed it.

III squirms away from II's strong grasp to grab something from the floor off the side of the bed, handing it over to Vessel.

Vessel's underwear then III's pajama pants slide up his legs with ease, a happy little thrum going over the bond. "You're too cute, Sugar."

"Am not." Vessel hides his face in his hands.

"Denied. You're adorable." II chimes in, pulling Vessel close after handing him a pillow to hold to his chest.

"I am... denying your denial." Vessel responds, wary of the response he will receive.

"I'm denying your denial of his denial. You're adorable. Accept it. Accept it~" III leaves no room for argument, gently pulling at Vessel's cheek so it stretches out.

In a bold move, Vessel turns his head quickly and nips at III's fingers. Then, he pauses, waiting.

No hit comes, only III's boisterous laughter. They crawl overtop Vessel and II, sprawling over their legs. Silence falls as II gives Vessel gentle kiss after gentle kiss. Always so, so, gentle. Gentle in ways Vessel didn't know were possible.

"I didn't know sex could be gentle." Vessel admits quietly, head leant on II's chest. "But it was you two I was with. I shouldn't be surprised."

"Sex can be whatever you want it to be." II states firmly, a finger tracing the curve of Vessel's spine under his shirt, up and down repeatedly, over every vertebrae with utter care.

"Am I too rough with you?" III asks, picking his head up from II's thigh to look up at Vessel with a heavy frown.

"No. I enjoy how you handle me." Vessel promises, reaching down to cup III's jaw, tracing the curve of their cheekbone reverently. "You're careful in ways I was never gifted in the past. I truly, truly enjoy it. You make me feel wanted for me, for who I am, not just my body and what it can give you. I only ever felt like a broken toy, Before."

"I have never had gentleness in sex. It was never afforded to me. The way you two fuck me, with care or with rough handling, I- I feel loved."

"As I said, sweetheart, when we have sex with you, it's loving. It's not just fucking." II implores Vessel to understand, blue, blue eyes warm and pleading.

Before, Vessel wouldn't have been able to tell the difference, having never experienced loving sex, but now... he sees they couldn't be any more different. Their love for him isn't shown only in their kind words, or the gentleness of their kisses. It's shown in the care they take to make sure he's ready for their cocks, the care they emulate in making sure he is always enjoying what is happening.

"I- I know. I see that, now. I would-" Vessel breathes in a deep, unneeded breath, "I would not mind if you were rougher, in fact. You have never hurt me and I am slowly coming to realize that you won't. I... I'm not made of glass. I will not break. Anything you give me, I will take with arms wide open."

"Vessel, sweetheart, would... Would you like to just spend the day with each other? With all three of us?"

Vessel makes something akin to a confused noise, not understanding.

"Is that not what we usually do?" He murmurs, leaning into the kiss pressed onto his head.

"Two means sexually, Sugar. He wants to know if you just want to have sex today, whenever we all want to." III explains, and II nods along in agreement.

"We wouldn't only be having sex, Ves. We could do other things today too, I just... I'm really happy we've finally slept together and I- I feel as though I can't get enough of you. I want to spend the day with my beautiful boyfriends and spoil you with my affection."

"You... want me like that? We don't- We don't usually do more than just one or two-" Vessel cuts himself off, a little in disbelief.

"Neither of us wanted to overwhelm you by going at it too much, Ves. Didn't want you to think we only wanted you for sex."

"Oh... I see. I've... I've wanted more every time." Squeezing the admission out is an arduous task, but Vessel supposes he feels lighter when it's out in the open.

Especially when II kisses Vessel again, a deep one full of tongue as one hand slides down Vessel's spine to cup one of his asscheeks over his clothes.

"Wait a second, sir." III speaks up, which causes II to pause his valiant efforts to swallow Vessel whole.

Dazed with the ferocity of II's kisses, Vessel barely manages to glance down at III. Their smirk is wide, eyeing Vessel up and down impatiently.

"Can I fuck you Ves?"

Vessel's eyes widen, confused and aroused, but he nods without any complaints.

"That's surprisingly tame considering your expression." II says, eyeing III suspiciously.

"I figured you could take care of him in other ways. Maybe give him some little marks of our own?" III's smile is full of mischief, "Some hickies perhaps?"

II looks to Vessel, waiting for his response even as his eyes light up in interest.

"You will... follow my rule?" Vessel asks, nervous gaze flitting between them.

"Of course. No going near your neck or chest. The rest of you is fair game."

"I agree then." Vessel says, a surprised yelp following as III digs his teeth into Vessel's thigh through his pajamas.

III is taking Vessel from II's arms then, pressing him down into the bed and caging him in on either side with long arms. Their grin is predatory, teeth glinting in the low light, and Vessel is caught in that blue gaze surrounded by a sea of darkness like a fly in a web.

"Shouldn't have even bothered getting dressed, Sugar." III snarks playfully, and Vessel blushes as III strips him again.

"Actually," III pauses, leaning over the bed for the second time.

This time he comes up with his own shirt, "Put this on."

Vessel's eyes glow a little brighter with his sudden influx of arousal, and Vessel wastes no time taking his shirt off to put on III's. It's a cropped band shirt with shirt sleeves, and leaves much of Vessel's skin bared. While III lathers their fingers in lube, II starts peppering kisses along Vessel's arm up to his shoulder, starting from the tips of his fingers. Vessel wishes his bandages didn't hinder the feeling of II's lips on his skin, but there was nothing to be done about it right now.

III makes short work of prepping him, skilled fingers opening him up, and then they're lining their leaking cock up with Vessel's hole. When III enters him, II bites into a spot on Vessel's shoulder and he moans.

At some point, II pulls Vessel's leg just enough to the side, trailing kisses down the length of the limb. Between nips and the hickies he's sucking into Vessel's skin, paired with how deeply III is fucking him, Vessel is lost entirely to the pleasure they're giving him. Vessel's legs being opened wider allowed III more room for access, pushing into him impossibly deeper and Vessel groans, focus caught between II's mouth and III's cock ruining him for anyone else after them. His release is found quickly with how much attention they shower him in, and then II decides he wants a turn. Vessel is ever willing, kissing and nipping at their soft skin. His teeth ache to break supple flesh and taste their blood on his tongue, but he refrains.

That day is spent enjoying each other's bodies when the mood strikes them between lazing about and working on music. II and III take turns having their way with Vessel, always so tender in their affection and care. Nearly driven into delirium with pleasure, Vessel finally, finally feels deliciously satisfied at the end of the day. There had been many moments where a break was not given or needed. A perk of bring a vessel, Vessel supposes.

Every single time, Vessel is asked if he wants it. Every single time, Vessel says yes and means it with his body and soul.

Some small part of him says they might even listen to him if he says to wait, that he doesn't want to have sex. It's a small part he doesn't allow himself to think about for fear of ruining the happiness he's swam in since the first round of the day.

His nightmare is completely forgotten, buried deep into the recesses of his mind under all of the euphoria and the blatant love he is shown, and shows in return.

Not for a single moment does Vessel feel any pain. At least not any that isn't welcome. He truly wishes they would bite him harder, make him bleed. He's coming to realize that wish will likely never come to pass. But he doesn't mind. Tells himself he doesn't mind.

II and III accumulate small bruising bite marks that Vessel makes absolutely certain won't last more than a day. He regrets his fear of them being upset with them when III whines to II that they were going to go away so quickly. Vessel nips gently at a spot on III's thigh, a blush permanently staining his cheeks.

In the dead of night, unusually awake, II sifts through all the photos he'd taken for III. The other took photos of his own, of course, but their first encounter had been entirely shot by II.

Staring in wonder, II cannot pull his gaze from the picture of III with his mouth around Vessel's cock. A swipe to the next photo is of II mid-thrust as III's back arches beautifully.

Vessel shifts from beside him, burying his face into II's chest as he curls up a little further around his plague doctor. The light from II's phone where he holds it behind Vessel's head is almost like a halo around him, II smiling fondly. Elvira meows as she shoves the cracked door open further to slip inside, hopping up on the bed and curling up somewhere beside III.

II decides it's time to head to bed, thoroughly exhausted from the days events but utterly pleased. He sends the photo's to III's phone and puts his phone on the nightstand.

And if II saves these pictures to a folder of his own before sending them to III, well, perhaps III has the right idea about lewd photos.

::

As the days until the festival close unceasingly, Sleep brings Vessel into his realm more and more. A quick study when rested properly, he's made leaps and bounds of progress on learning his God's runic language. The time spent with his God is cherished, and yet, Vessel's thoughts cannot help but linger on how close III had come to being hurt by Sleep's hurt pride.

If Sleep notices Vessel's weary thoughts, then He does not comment, does not seem to feel anything at all.

The day before the festival is spent packing whatever clothing they think they'll need and stuffing all of their equipment into a small trailer II had rented to tow with Vessel's car.

Vessel was filled with anxiety and apprehension, looking around his room as he puts his cloak into the small duffel bag II had bought for him.

This room is his. Truly his. Filled with all of the things he loves, except his lovers. It was positively cluttered with knick knacks, books and flowers in their vases, a collection of sticky notes from III. An old, empty mug of coffee sat on his nightstand that II had brought him some time ago, and on the bed was his plague doctor plushie.

This was his room, in his house, that he shared with two adoring partners who treated him kindly, and a menace of a cat that Vessel would kill for.

Vessel finds he will miss it, in his time away. It won't be more than a few days, he knows, but this place has become his whole world.

This realm they all reside in is where Vessel has spent most of his time since his rebirth as a vessel. To be away from it for so long is... unsettling.

He knows he will long to return to the manor as soon as he steps outside the realm.

There's a short word on the tip of Vessel's tongue. He knows what is it, but fears what it means. He's... never had it before.

When he's with II and III though, when he's with Sleep, Vessel feels as though he's finally found a...

Restless, Vessel closes his duffel bag and leaves to find II, craving attention that hopefully the other will give him if Vessel follows him around long enough.

The bond tells Vessel that II isn't in his room, so he turns to go down the staircase. III's door is uncharacteristically completely shut, and Vessel frowns, feeling worry beginning to creep into the back of his mind. He tugs on his bond with II, sending down a blurred out image of III in question.

II sends down his confusion, and there's a faint tickle of the other man tugging on the bond with III they all share.

III sits on their bed, an old shirt in hand. One of the ones they got from the thrift store in their old town. A deviation from the norm, his door was shut and locked. He could feel II and Vessel carefully probing the bond, asking if he wanted company. They send back a gentle rejection, stroking an invisible finger along the tethers attached to his soul, wanting desperately to be alone with their thoughts for now. A smile pulls at one corner of their lips when II and Vessel send back reassurance and their feelings of care.

III's attention quickly falls back to the band shirt in hand, the tag with the logo for Ghost that he thumbs carefully. Flipping it over, his initials from Before sit in faded black marker, unintelligible with age and use. They cannot read it, no matter the wear as Sleep does not let him. There is this emptiness inside of them, a sinking feeling that seems to never end. This was his shirt, Before. Somehow, it managed to end up in that thrift store with the kind elderly woman. Somehow, III got ahold of it, he took it home without even realizing that it used to be his.

They stand, placing the shirt carefully on the bed and walking over to their CD stand. Pulling out their Ghost albums, III thumbs at a nick on one's case. Somehow, he knows it's because he bought it second hand from a record store.

Moving on to his closet, he opens the door to see all of their clothes, items upon items that were well-worn and cared for.

III had thought he'd simply struck gold and found clothes that fit them perfectly, but now...

Now, he realizes that all of the things he got from his favorite thrift store were all his possessions before he had been killed.

Tears well up in their eyes, shimmering gold leaving sparkles on their cheeks. Heavy feet carry him back to bed, body falling into soft sheets and sinking in. Taking a page out of Vessel's book, III carefully tucks in the corners of the bond that fray with his melancholy and wraps himself in it like a blanket, keeping his bitter emotions to himself.

II and Vessel are none the wiser, though he still feels their worry. III knows he shouldn't do this, knows he shouldn't lie or hide what he's feeling but he just... needs to be alone for now.

They should be happy. They got their stuff back after their death. All III can feel is guilty resentment at the people who killed him. He never would have met II, Vessel, and Sleep, but still, the way he died lingers in his mind like a parasite no matter how happy he is here.

For now, III will cry in peace, and when they eventually leave their room, they know there are people who accept him waiting for him, people who do not think he is too loud.

He is never too much, in their eyes. He's accepted, just as he wished.