A Deviant Spawn Betrayal Ch. 03

"Preferably asap!" Rory exploded.

"Then I guess I better go," Angel said, laughing. "For my sake, I suspect, more than the skank's." His soulful, dark eyes focused on Shane and his lips turned up at the corners. "Real good to see you again." He strolled off towards Doux Rêves, remarking, "Because shit's started getting very interesting just since you've arrived."

Once Shane was alone again with Rory, he grabbed his bristling best friend's hand. "Rory, it's not Taz Eric's after."

"Good!" Rory visibly deflated, relief obvious. Then blanched. "Well, maybe not so good, because no matter who he's after, it's still...well, it's shitty. And you and Revelin..." The hand entwined with Shane's gave a gentle squeeze. "Are you going to be okay, Shane?"

Not ever. "Yeah, eventually."

"No more piercings?"

"No, Rory, no more piercings. You know, I wasn't totally lying when I said part of the reason I got them was because I thought they'd look cool."

"Yeah, uh-huh, right. Look, Shane, I'm really worried about you. Do you think talking about what happened might help?"

"No, I don't. I just want to..." Take it all back. Erase the catalyst he'd set in motion on New Year's Day and start over clean with Revelin. "...I don't want to talk about it. I just want to forget it. And move on. I'll be fine."

"Then I'm going to trust you're telling me the truth and I won't ask you to speak about it again. And I'm so sorry about twisting your arm into coming up here."

"I came because I wanted to, dude."

"Do you want to go home? I mean, like, now? I'll call Jet Blue and pay the penalty and any rate increase to switch your flight from tomorrow to this afternoon."

Shane contemplated the offer. Not even an hour before it's exactly what he'd thought he wanted to do. He'd thought he wanted to leave. To not torture himself any more with this hell of his own making.

Yeah, he could still do that. Only, there was one very important difference between earlier and now.

Eric.

Like hell Shane was leaving.

If Eric got his clutches into Revelin, which Shane feared would be the inevitable conclusion, it wasn't going to be because he had taken advantage of Shane's error. It was going to be because the slut had worked hard for what he wanted.

"What?" Shane infused the single word with a generous amount of mock outrage. "Leave and let you have all the fun by yourself tonight? I don't think so, pretty boy. You're not getting rid of me that easy."

A slow smile stretched across Rory's soft, pretty face. "You sure, jackass?"

"Hell yeah, I'm sure. I'm very sure."

Because, before Shane left New York City, there was a scheming blond he planned to have expelled from Doux Rêves and from The Huntington. And Shane suspected thwarting Eric would serve just as well as any release he would find through cutting himself open and watching the stark contrast of his red blood run down the pale skin of his inner arm. But there was no way he could oversee and reap the possible benefits of the ejection from the inside of a limo or the inside of an airport and definitely not from the belly of an airborne airplane.

This required onsite, hands-on involvement.

"Let's go watch our favorite band practice, Ror. But first, first we need to inform Nietz about a security issue that needs to be addressed. Immediately."

"Of course you're a butt loving fairy...I'm not surprised. Not surprised at all. Faggot."

December 24 - 25, 2010

We made it as far as the VIP bathroom. Revelin already knew it would be empty, as he'd made a visit to clean my black lipstick off his face while I was busy leading Nietz to Rory.

As we entered, it occurred to me there was something really important I needed to tell him. About a little quirk of mine. Up to that point, Rory had been my only lover and my quirk had never bothered him as he felt it fit my personality perfectly. Plus, it had never stopped him from getting off. But, still, I felt it necessary to give Revelin fair warning. "Hey, I—"

"Shut up, Blue." Revelin slammed the door shut behind him and twisted the lock into place. "And put your hands on that wall over there."

I obliged, but immediately turned my head to peek at him over my shoulder. Again, I tried to warn, "I—"

"Keep that pretty mouth of yours closed." He approached slowly, stopping when he stood right behind me. "Can you do that for me, baby? Can you shut the hell up for ten minutes?"

Ten minutes? Whew, that was going to be a stretch. In more ways than just me being quiet.

Wiggling my ass in what I hoped was an enticing manner, I said, "Sure, I can. No problemo."

"Somehow, I really, truly doubt that." Wrapping his arms around my waist from the back, he nuzzled his face into my neck as he unfastened and unzipped my jeans. He hunkered behind me as he slid them down my legs. There was a metallic clink as the decorative chain clipped to my belt loops hit the floor.

Revelin pulled my underwear down next and my cock popped out. There was no need to stroke my friend into readiness; he already stood strong, at a forty-five degree angle, a happy camper relishing his freedom. "Yes, I can. And I'll prove it to you. But, first, I really think it's important to tell you—"

"Shhh." He kicked my feet as far apart as they would go, hindered as they were by my current fashion of Tripp jeans about the ankles. "Keep your legs open, just like that. Don't you dare close them unless I tell you to." Massaging my bared buttocks, he kissed each globe followed up by a brusque smack to each.

I jumped, yelping, "Owww!"

"You're still talking."

"Oh, c'mon, Revelin, owww doesn't count. That's not talking."

"And now?"

"Okay, now I'm talking, I admit it, but it's your own fault. You smacked me hard and it—" His hands spread my buttocks and his tongue flittered over my opening, teasing. More blood rushed to my painfully engorged member, making it bob without the assistance of touch. It hit the wall on the down stroke, leaving its mark of pre-seminal fluid on the cool, tiled surface. "—feels so good."

"I'll make it feel even better. But only if you keep those luscious lips of yours sealed tight."

"Deal." I pushed my ass backwards. Fuck warning him. He'd find out about my quirk on his own soon enough. "Now do it again. Please. Nobody has ever done that to me before and I just have to feel your tongue on me again. I'll die if you don't do it. I promise I will. I'll just keel right over. Shit, now that I think about it, it felt so good I'll probably die if you do do it again. But, still, I have to feel you. Now, Revelin."

"Incorrigible." The raspy word was the only sign he planned to give in to my ramble-like begging. He sucked the skin on my left cheek so hard I knew I'd end up with an angry bruise there later.

Cool, I thought, a personally applied Deviant Spawn souvenir.

I couldn't help but wonder how much a photo of my ass would go for on e-bay.

Lightly, Revelin's tongue trailed a wet, skipping path to the right, until he reached my crack. He licked from the top down, stopping when he reached that place I so needed him to be. Spreading my cheeks wider, he licked, sucked and nipped all around my opening, never entering me.

It was the most erotic thing I'd ever experienced.

Feeling a powerful orgasm rush over me, I whimpered. At the last moment, I tried to issue one last warning, "Revelin, I have—"

He pulled back long enough to mutter, "A very big ass mouth I want to you to shut the fuck up."

Then he thrust his tongue inside of me, the walls of my ass clamping down on the strong muscle. But it was the thought that it was Revelin St. James, Deviant Spawn's lead guitarist, on his knees behind me, eating out my ass that pushed me over the edge.

"Uh, oh god, ah, ahhh—" My dick exploded and I painted the wall in front of me with strings of cum. "Fuck," I moaned, shuddering as the final pulse squirted out. "Fuck, fuck, fuuuck. Jesus, I love you, Revelin."

Only three or so minutes had elapsed since we'd entered the bathroom.

I would blame my quickness on a sex drought...but I'd be lying. A full twenty-four hours hadn't passed since the last time I'd messed around with Rory.

And I'd shot my load twice as fast as I ever had when fooling around with my best friend.

Revelin removed his tongue from my channel and rested his chin against the crack of my ass. "Did you just—" My butt vibrated as he laughed. "Oh, shit, you did, didn't you?"

"Yeah, I kinda have a hairpin trigger," I explained, sheepish and out of breath. "Tried to warn you."

"So you did." His deep, belly-wrenching sniggers were infectious and I soon found myself joining in. When we both sobered, he stood and said, "Zip up, little twin. We're leaving."

"Where we off to?" I asked as I pulled up my pants.

"Told you to be careful with saying those words to me a third time. I own you now, Blue. You go where I go. And right now I'm going to my room to test out a certain hairpin trigger I recently acquired."

Yes! A whole night with Revelin. One sure to be filled with enlightening demonstrations of how much, and in what ways, he dug me.

I'd have to send Jazzy a photo of my hickeyed ass in thanks for her Christmas gift to me and Rory.

On second thought, maybe I wouldn't. E-mailing that picture to Jazzy would be akin to just begging her to come kick it for me. Definitely wouldn't be the smartest thing I'd ever done.

"But first we need to get you cleaned up," Revelin said. He walked to the paper towel dispenser, pulled a couple sheets out and wet them in the sink. "You're a little bit of a mess right now.

"Umm, yeah, also your fault," I teased.

"Sure is," he acknowledged, unapologetic. "But come over here and I'll get you all ready for the cameras, baby."

I joined him at the sink, tilting my face up to his. With gentle strokes, he rubbed the scratchy paper across my eyes and lips, clearing it all away. The black velvet eyeliner. The carbon black mascara. The black pearl eye shadow. The vintage raven lipstick.

The security blanket I clung to disappeared in a bundle of soiled paper towels tossed into one of Virtuous's trash receptacles.

Revelin regarded me thoughtfully. "Why'd you have all that shit piled up on your face, Blue? What are you hiding from?"

My insecurities. My unworthiness. My past.

Myself.

Shit I did not want to think about.

"Hiding? Who's hiding? I'm not hiding. Nope, not me." I graced Revelin with what I meant to be a sunny smile, but I suspected it came out as more of a sickly grimace. I clawed open the lock on the door and lurched out the bathroom, hoping he wouldn't press the issue.

First person I saw on exit was Taz, who still lay on his back on the couch, both hands now clasped together behind his head. His long, platinum locks hung over the couch's arm, the tips just sweeping the floor.

I speed-walked past the singer's prone figure. But no matter how fast I was going, there was no way I could miss the huge shit-eating grin splitting his face in two.

He opened his mouth and said—

"Shut the fuck up," Revelin interrupted from behind me, before Taz could get a single word out. "And find someone to clean up—" he paused, then continued in a voice suddenly brimming with false cheerfulness, "Hey, gold digger, still want that tip? Taz'll give your ass a twenty if you go clean up the bathroom."

I heard a feminine squawk of outrage.

"I'll make it a fifty if you go do it," Taz contributed.

I took the sound of rushing footsteps followed by the closing of a door as indication my accoster found Taz's offer infinitely more acceptable than Revelin's.

"Rev," Taz said, chuckling, "you are truly one evil ass, nasty ass, messy ass motherfucker."

"And I'll bet, lover boy, my mess is still cleaner than the one you made of that private room in that club back in o-nine. Shit, when did that happen-September? October?"

September twenty-fourth, I thought, still hurrying towards the stairs. I remembered the exact date because the purported incident Revelin was talking about had happened the night before Rory's eighteenth birthday. It was rumored Taz had paid a hefty amount in restitution to the club, part of which was supposed to include the owner's silence...but, mysteriously enough, grainy pics of the astonishing damages taken with somebody's camera phone had still managed to make their way onto the internet.

"I'm completely innocent," Taz protested. "It wasn't me."

"Stockholm? Two brunette sisters? Plus their brother? Still gonna claim it wasn't you?"

"It was two brunet brothers plus their sweet, innocent brunette sister. And that sure wasn't me."

"I watched the four of you leave that room."

"It wasn't—"

"Stop trying to bullshit a bullshitter, Taz." Revelin finally caught up to me and placed a possessive hand at the small of my back. "And just go have fun with your femme. Me and his friend are out."

I don't remember all the details of leaving the club or of arriving at the hotel. But I do know Revelin didn't ask me again about my makeup. That may have been because we were too busy groping each other the entire way there.

On arrival, there were pictures. The photographers swarmed soon as we exited the limo and I was thankful for Revelin's foresight. He laughed and chatted it up with them. I giggled and posed for them.

It took about half an hour to forty-five minutes for us to breakaway and make our escape. And we were only able to do so once Angel and his two girlfriends arrived and took some of the heat off of us.

After letting us in his suite, Revelin sat on the couch, legs splayed open. He observed me with his sexy ass cobalt blues and ordered, "Strip."

I couldn't get out of my clothes fast enough, but when I reached for the last item touching my skin, my black leather collar, he said, "Leave it. Now turn around, baby. Let me see you."

"Like this?" I twirled in a circle, the earlier episode firmly behind me.

Actually, I was shameless. The scars on my arms and inner thighs were long faded. The lights were dim. And I was with Revelin.

Who desired me.

Even with my makeup gone, current circumstances served as the perfect bolster to my courage.

"Yeah, just like that. Damn, you are one sexy ass boy. My sexy ass boy. C'mere." When I reached him, he instructed, "On your knees, little twin."

Mostly, I'd been the one to top when having sex with Rory. Sad as it was, I was the more masculine of us two so it just sort of ended up that way when we played our sex games. The arrangement went against my natural inclinations, but I was versatile so I didn't mind too much.

Besides, it was fuck Rory or find myself damn near performing Cirque Du Soleil type feats with my ass in an effort to keep his dick hard for the entire five to six minutes it normally takes for me to orgasm. That boy was a true bottom.

But Revelin's demanding attitude attracted me on a whole other level that Rory had never come close to reaching and never would. Revelin was going to fuck me and I knew it. Wanted it.

And no circus tricks would be required on my part.

In a flash, I was on my knees.

"You want it, baby? You want my dick?" he asked.

My head jerked up and down in frantic affirmation.

"Then take it out."

I reached for the button of his jeans and unfastened it. My breath quickened as I slid his zipper down, revealing a wild nest of untamed black pubic hairs. Reaching inside the opening I'd created, I pulled out his veined, ridged shaft. Only the very tip of the purple head peeked out from inside the foreskin.

I'd seen uncut cocks before. On Xhamster and Xtube. But those videos sure hadn't prepared me for the smell. My god, Revelin's pungent odor was pure masculine musk.

My mouth watered.

"Suck it, Blue," Revelin demanded. "Suck it for me."

Sliding his skin back, I lowered my head to his lap and engulfed his cock. Hollowing my cheeks, I sucked hard and fast as I could, quickly discovering Revelin was far removed from Rory's sweetness. His flavor was salty. Sharp.

He tasted better than Rory. Much, much better. Intoxicatingly better.

He tasted like a man was supposed to taste.

"Fuck, your mouth feels good." Grabbing my head in both hands, he held me still. Then he began a slow fuck of my face, raising his hips up and down off the couch.

Revelin was considerably bigger than Rory and I gagged when he entered the unexplored territory of my throat. When he tried to pull my head off of him, I slapped his hands away.

"Mooor," I said around his erection. "Ah wan mooor."

"Then I'll give you more." He placed his hands on the sides of my head again and resumed his slow fuck, soon working himself up to a furious pistoning. I gagged a couple more times, but he didn't quit his assault. Not until his cell vibrated.

As he answered the call, I continued my noisy, messy suck, licking and slurping all over his length.

"Make it quick, lover boy. Yeah, quicker than me in the bathroom, fucker. I'm in the middle of—oh, shit, Blue—something. What? Shane's Blue. No, he's not blue because he ended up with me instead of you, dumb ass. Because of those pretty, gold flecked, blue eyes of his. Hell yeah, he's staying the night. What about you? Get your girly boy?" Revelin snorted loudly. "Jesus, you're good. I was talking to Shane, Taz, not your conceited ass. You call Angel yet? Don't tell me. I don't even want to think about what him and those nasty ass—goddamn, Shane—broads of his are doing right above my head. Uh-huh. I'll tell Shane now."

The phone was tossed aside and I let go of my treat to ask, "Tell me what?"

"To let Rory know you're cool."

"I'll text him." Leaning over, I snagged my jeans from where I'd dropped them on the floor. Once I held my cell in hand, I navigated to the screen to start a new message.

To: Emma Frost

Rev says that taz says to let u know i'm ok. I'm ok! More than ok. Better than ok. Will talk tom. Want deets. All deets. Detailed deets. I'll have deets!

Revelin snatched the phone from me after I'd sent the message and threw it on the carpeted floor. It landed right next to his. "On the couch, Shane."

We switched positions and his fingers gravitated to my perineum. He rubbed it ruthlessly as he swallowed me to the root in one gulp. The cum spurted out of me before my mind even registered what the hell was going on.

"So it wasn't a fluke," Revelin said after releasing me from his mouth.

"N-no." My chest heaved and I had to force my breathing to slow so I wouldn't start hyperventilating. "It's a-a-always like that. But never so q-quick before. Never."

"Good." His grin was feral as he rose up off the floor. He left to go into an adjoining room, his hard erection poking horizontally out of his jeans leading the way.

Less than a minute later, he was back. Armed with lubricant.

And naked.

I watched him uncap the black bottle of Wet Platinum and watched him drizzle the oily liquid onto his palm. With firm, even strokes he covered his impressive erection, his helmet head hiding and reappearing from inside his foreskin with each move of his hand. I was so enthralled I failed to notice when or how he produced the unwrapped condom he held, but my fascination extended to watching him roll it down to cover his slicked, unyielding flesh. More lube was then applied to the outside of the rubber.

When finished, Revelin knelt on the floor between my thighs. He moved me so I was slouched down low on the couch in a half sitting/half lying down position, with my ass at the very edge of the cushion. He hooked my legs over his shoulders, aligned his dick with my hole, then surged forward. Despite his preparations, his attempted entry was unsuccessful and burned something fierce.