Possession (Halle/Lyle/Alle, RSA 'verse)
Index/Timeline
Playing at normal is something that other people do; Halle doesn't see the point. Alle tries it sometimes--Hallelujah supposes that wanting to work in a strip club is part of that--but it never lasts for long. Being themselves is easier, and a fuck of a lot more fun.
They get a lot of stares, what with being twins and Allelujah's affinity for jeans that have to be peeled off, so it's not unusual that the brunet... No, his hair is auburn when he walks out of the shadows and the sunlight hits it. Having this man stare at them isn't out of the norm.
What is out of the norm is the quality of his stare. The sudden deer-in-headlights expression, which Hallelujah only gets a glimpse of before the man stops dead and moves to press himself up against the building so that Hallelujah and Allelujah can pass him easily on the sidewalk.
Halle wonders at this man, who picks up on something that the majority of people don't even glimpse. He wonders--
I don't see why not, Alle sends, and Hallelujah can feel his excitement like a live thing, electricity passing between them in the places where they don't quite touch.
That's all the reason, all the endorsement that Hallelujah needs. He already has a location in mind when he stops directly in front of the stranger and gives a smile that won't make the guy piss in his pants. "Going somewhere?"
Despite the fear evident in his features, in his posture, in the smell of him, there's arousal there too. Not just a little bit, either--it's overpowering the scent of fear. Maybe it's because of the fear, Halle thinks, as the stranger mumbles, "I, uh."
Hallelujah lets his grin go feral, the type that makes people run the other way. The guy doesn't run, though; he just stays put, blue eyes wide and looking up the scant distance between him and Halle, as they're nearly of a height.
Allelujah leads the way to the second floor apartment they've been using. The prior resident's body was burnt beyond recognition in a dumpster fire after Hallelujah killed the fucker two months ago. In the heat of the moment they'd neglected to get his keys off of him so now they're stuck using the fire escape as their entry point.
This guy, the auburn-haired one, lets Halle drag him the whole way, even up the fire escape. He stumbles and his hands shake as he grips the cast iron rails but stuck between Hallelujah and Allelujah there's nowhere to go but up. The scent of arousal and fear mingled is delicious in Halle's mind; he shares the smell and the delight with his brother, whose senses are less finely tuned.
They cleared all the shit away from the window a couple nights ago when they started staying here, so that means there's absolutely no problem with directing Alle to slam the fucker against the wall as soon as they're through it. Halle crawls in and is treated to the sight of Alle's hand around the guy's neck, and the guy's head leaned back as far as he can with the wall stopping it, his eyes closed, body slack with surrender.
There are, Halle thinks, some crazy motherfuckers in this world. Obviously this guy is one of them. "What's your name?" he asks, on a whim. Not the usual question, but this guy is... different. Interesting.
It takes the guy a few deep breaths before he can make himself answer. In that time, Halle dives into Alle's mind and tightens Allelujah's hand enough that when the guy finally does answer, it comes out delightfully hoarse. "Lyle."
"Lyle," Hallelujah says, tasting the name. It's not a bad name; unique, but not unique enough to turn heads. Not like, say, Hallelujah.
"Are we going to--" Alle asks, or starts to ask, but doesn't get through the question entirely before Halle backhands him. His hand around Lyle's neck loosens and he stumbles to the side, gasping.
Lyle opens his eyes and his expression is distinctly annoyed. Testy little bitch, Hallelujah thinks, and reaches over to casually slam Lyle's head back against the wall. With the movement Lyle's hips cant forward, searching for contact, and he makes a noise that ends up half-stifled in his throat.
Strip him, Hallelujah commands, and begins to pull his own clothes off as he heads for the bedroom. He makes it to the bed before Lyle and Allelujah, but does not sit down on it. He stands at the end, watching coolly as Allelujah's fingers shake with anticipation while he's supposed to be pulling clothes off. Hurry the fuck up, he sends, because he likes to watch Allelujah get all worked up and trip over his own desire.
"I don't see why--" Lyle starts, so Halle backhands him. Lyle doesn't glare, but his expression says You could have done that harder.
Uppity little... Halle pushes him out into the hallway and slams him against the wall, once because he wants to and twice for good measure. He smells the arousal coming off the guy in waves, and those lidded eyes are all the confirmation he really didn't need.
The bed frame creaks; that would be Allelujah climbing onto the bed.
So, Lyle likes it rough. Hallelujah can do rough. He kisses Lyle, slow but not gentle. Rough, with teeth scraping tongue and closing around Lyle's bottom lip when the kiss breaks, tightening gradually until Halle tastes blood. They both groan at the sharpness of the taste, and while Hallelujah is feeding the sensation to Allelujah through brainwaves Lyle's eyes roll back in his head a little, his expression pure bliss.
Delicious, Halle thinks, but pulls away because he can feel Allelujah sitting on the bed, waiting patiently, wanting to be part of this--whatever Hallelujah decides this is going to be, of course.
Lyle moves to follow, so Halle puts a hand on his forehead and slams it back against the wall so hard that there's a crack and dent in the sheetrock. He groans at the impact, and lists slightly, but does not crumple to the ground. Whatever else Lyle is, he is tough; Hallelujah will give the dumb fucker that much.
As they make their way into the bedroom, Lyle sways on his feet, but the erection making his jeans bulge out like that says that he doesn't mind that he's possibly concussed.
Hallelujah doesn't command Allelujah with words, but rather with imagery: stand against the wall. With the rest of that image, Halle helps out, closing a hand around the back of Lyle's neck--letting his fingernails dig in just enough to draw blood--and pushing him toward Alle. Lyle stumbles to his knees and, without being told, fumbles for the zipper on Allelujah's jeans.
At the very least Hallelujah can be polite and he waits for Lyle to get Alle's cock out before he shoves Lyle's head forward on it, rubbing his face against it at first. Somehow it ends up in Lyle's mouth and he sucks it; Halle can feel the heat and wet and suction through Alle's brainwaves. He can also feel it when Lyle lets his teeth scrape Allelujah's cock just a little too hard, so he buries his other hand in Lyle's hair and drives his face forward, all the way down, effectively choking him.
Lyle relaxes into the abuse and doesn't even try to breathe, his shoulders are down and his throat is stretched out into a long, clean line and it's one of the most beautiful sights that Hallelujah has ever seen in his entire fucking life.
"Fuck," Alle breathes, his hips starting to jerk a little, his self-control beginning to unravel. Halle clamps down on both and Allelujah goes still, submitting just as easily as Lyle does.
Halle deigns to let Lyle breathe a little and pulls his face off of Allelujah's cock, by his hair of course, twisting his fingers and pulling in a way that makes Lyle moan.
Allelujah's knees are weak, but Hallelujah forces him to stay standing, forces Lyle's mouth back down again, one hand now reached around to press against Lyle's throat and make it a little more difficult to swallow that cock.
"Oh my G-- fuck," is the only warning that Hallelujah gets before Allelujah's orgasm washes over the both of them. Halle nearly comes too, nearly follows on the heels of it, but he's too focused on Lyle and cutting off Lyle's air supply, pulling his hair and, finally, when Lyle pulls away from Alle's cock, backhanding him.
Lyle sprawls on the floor with the force of the blow, entire body gone limp and there's still that tent in his pants, still that bulge asking for what Halle isn't in any way about to give him.
Come on, he sends to Alle, putting a bit of compulsion with it so that Allelujah won't give in to his usual post-orgasm sleepiness. We're leaving.
But our stuff-- Alle sends.
Halle shuts him down before he can get the whole thought through. Come on. We're leaving.
Why? Allelujah asks, blearily, as they go down the stairs and exit the flat through the front door.
Because I said so.
And that, Hallelujah thinks, is all the reason that anyone needs.
◊
Lyle comes home bruised and spacey and throws up a few times. Neil makes him go to hospital and they pronounce him concussed, and the next few days are pretty boring. There is nothing Lyle would like to do more than to find his mystery twins and let them finish what they started, but Neil is adamant that he must rest, and Neil even takes off classes to make sure that Lyle doesn't go out of the house.
But the allotted rest period that the doctor gives does eventually pass, and Lyle has to admit (though not to Neil) that he feels much better now. Better enough to go in search of the twins.
He frequents the area where he met them before, hoping for another chance meeting with the lion. Instead he gets the mouse, who won't meet his eyes and stammers out some reply about his brother when Lyle says hello.
"I was just hoping--" Lyle begins, but the mouse cuts him off and finally meets his eyes and it's the goddamn lion looking out from his features. Even the smile that the guy gives is the lion, twisted into a shape that is sharp and feral and the very best kind of dangerous.
All of the blood in Lyle's body rushes to his cock right about the time that the wolf-in-sheep's-clothing says, "Was fucking wondering when to expect seeing you again."
"Yeah, well," is the best Lyle can come up with. He's surprised he can form words at all, and not the least bit shocked that they're all monosyllabic. "Yeah."
"You're either the dumbest motherfucker I've ever met, or..." and the predator trails off into another one of those grins that make Lyle's knees weak. "Well, something."
"Be nice, Halle," the mouse says, peeking out from under the lion's facade for a moment.
Halle? Weird name, but Lyle's heard worse.
"Allelujah," is all the lion-- Halle says, voice sickly-sweet but with an edge to it like a razor. "What have I told you about opening your fucking trap without permission?"
Okay, Lyle is pretty sure he hasn't heard worse names than that, and if the mouse is Allelujah then the lion's Halle is probably Hallelujah and, well, they must have some sort of split personality thing going on or else...
Out of nowhere, he gets blindsided by a punch. Before he even thinks about it, he's hitting back, and the fucker--Halle--ducks the first punch but not the follow-up. Lyle gets bare moments to savor his victory, and then Halle's knocking the wind out of him with a sharp blow to his sternum and once he's on the ground, giving him a swift kick in the kidneys.
Neither of which do anything to make his erection flag even a little.
"You belong to us now," Allelujah says, and smiles sweetly, and Lyle thinks it's the creepiest thing in the entire fucking world that he's so goddamn innocent and dirty at the same time. Not in a bad way, though. More like in a fuck yes way.
It is not a horrible thing, this whole possession business, Lyle decides some time later, when Halle and Alle are busy with beating and fucking him. As long as he gets an orgasm this time, he'll be happy.
Which is where he discovers the down side of possession: he belongs to them, so they have the right to grant or deny orgasms as they see fit. He tries masturbating, but Halle gives him a look like murder and promptly walks out, dragging Alle with him. Lyle comes, but it's empty, like rubbing an itch lightly instead of scratching it.
All Lyle can think is that Neil had better fucking be home by the time he feels steady enough to head that way.
Playing at normal is something that other people do; Halle doesn't see the point. Alle tries it sometimes--Hallelujah supposes that wanting to work in a strip club is part of that--but it never lasts for long. Being themselves is easier, and a fuck of a lot more fun.
They get a lot of stares, what with being twins and Allelujah's affinity for jeans that have to be peeled off, so it's not unusual that the brunet... No, his hair is auburn when he walks out of the shadows and the sunlight hits it. Having this man stare at them isn't out of the norm.
What is out of the norm is the quality of his stare. The sudden deer-in-headlights expression, which Hallelujah only gets a glimpse of before the man stops dead and moves to press himself up against the building so that Hallelujah and Allelujah can pass him easily on the sidewalk.
Halle wonders at this man, who picks up on something that the majority of people don't even glimpse. He wonders--
I don't see why not, Alle sends, and Hallelujah can feel his excitement like a live thing, electricity passing between them in the places where they don't quite touch.
That's all the reason, all the endorsement that Hallelujah needs. He already has a location in mind when he stops directly in front of the stranger and gives a smile that won't make the guy piss in his pants. "Going somewhere?"
Despite the fear evident in his features, in his posture, in the smell of him, there's arousal there too. Not just a little bit, either--it's overpowering the scent of fear. Maybe it's because of the fear, Halle thinks, as the stranger mumbles, "I, uh."
Hallelujah lets his grin go feral, the type that makes people run the other way. The guy doesn't run, though; he just stays put, blue eyes wide and looking up the scant distance between him and Halle, as they're nearly of a height.
Allelujah leads the way to the second floor apartment they've been using. The prior resident's body was burnt beyond recognition in a dumpster fire after Hallelujah killed the fucker two months ago. In the heat of the moment they'd neglected to get his keys off of him so now they're stuck using the fire escape as their entry point.
This guy, the auburn-haired one, lets Halle drag him the whole way, even up the fire escape. He stumbles and his hands shake as he grips the cast iron rails but stuck between Hallelujah and Allelujah there's nowhere to go but up. The scent of arousal and fear mingled is delicious in Halle's mind; he shares the smell and the delight with his brother, whose senses are less finely tuned.
They cleared all the shit away from the window a couple nights ago when they started staying here, so that means there's absolutely no problem with directing Alle to slam the fucker against the wall as soon as they're through it. Halle crawls in and is treated to the sight of Alle's hand around the guy's neck, and the guy's head leaned back as far as he can with the wall stopping it, his eyes closed, body slack with surrender.
There are, Halle thinks, some crazy motherfuckers in this world. Obviously this guy is one of them. "What's your name?" he asks, on a whim. Not the usual question, but this guy is... different. Interesting.
It takes the guy a few deep breaths before he can make himself answer. In that time, Halle dives into Alle's mind and tightens Allelujah's hand enough that when the guy finally does answer, it comes out delightfully hoarse. "Lyle."
"Lyle," Hallelujah says, tasting the name. It's not a bad name; unique, but not unique enough to turn heads. Not like, say, Hallelujah.
"Are we going to--" Alle asks, or starts to ask, but doesn't get through the question entirely before Halle backhands him. His hand around Lyle's neck loosens and he stumbles to the side, gasping.
Lyle opens his eyes and his expression is distinctly annoyed. Testy little bitch, Hallelujah thinks, and reaches over to casually slam Lyle's head back against the wall. With the movement Lyle's hips cant forward, searching for contact, and he makes a noise that ends up half-stifled in his throat.
Strip him, Hallelujah commands, and begins to pull his own clothes off as he heads for the bedroom. He makes it to the bed before Lyle and Allelujah, but does not sit down on it. He stands at the end, watching coolly as Allelujah's fingers shake with anticipation while he's supposed to be pulling clothes off. Hurry the fuck up, he sends, because he likes to watch Allelujah get all worked up and trip over his own desire.
"I don't see why--" Lyle starts, so Halle backhands him. Lyle doesn't glare, but his expression says You could have done that harder.
Uppity little... Halle pushes him out into the hallway and slams him against the wall, once because he wants to and twice for good measure. He smells the arousal coming off the guy in waves, and those lidded eyes are all the confirmation he really didn't need.
The bed frame creaks; that would be Allelujah climbing onto the bed.
So, Lyle likes it rough. Hallelujah can do rough. He kisses Lyle, slow but not gentle. Rough, with teeth scraping tongue and closing around Lyle's bottom lip when the kiss breaks, tightening gradually until Halle tastes blood. They both groan at the sharpness of the taste, and while Hallelujah is feeding the sensation to Allelujah through brainwaves Lyle's eyes roll back in his head a little, his expression pure bliss.
Delicious, Halle thinks, but pulls away because he can feel Allelujah sitting on the bed, waiting patiently, wanting to be part of this--whatever Hallelujah decides this is going to be, of course.
Lyle moves to follow, so Halle puts a hand on his forehead and slams it back against the wall so hard that there's a crack and dent in the sheetrock. He groans at the impact, and lists slightly, but does not crumple to the ground. Whatever else Lyle is, he is tough; Hallelujah will give the dumb fucker that much.
As they make their way into the bedroom, Lyle sways on his feet, but the erection making his jeans bulge out like that says that he doesn't mind that he's possibly concussed.
Hallelujah doesn't command Allelujah with words, but rather with imagery: stand against the wall. With the rest of that image, Halle helps out, closing a hand around the back of Lyle's neck--letting his fingernails dig in just enough to draw blood--and pushing him toward Alle. Lyle stumbles to his knees and, without being told, fumbles for the zipper on Allelujah's jeans.
At the very least Hallelujah can be polite and he waits for Lyle to get Alle's cock out before he shoves Lyle's head forward on it, rubbing his face against it at first. Somehow it ends up in Lyle's mouth and he sucks it; Halle can feel the heat and wet and suction through Alle's brainwaves. He can also feel it when Lyle lets his teeth scrape Allelujah's cock just a little too hard, so he buries his other hand in Lyle's hair and drives his face forward, all the way down, effectively choking him.
Lyle relaxes into the abuse and doesn't even try to breathe, his shoulders are down and his throat is stretched out into a long, clean line and it's one of the most beautiful sights that Hallelujah has ever seen in his entire fucking life.
"Fuck," Alle breathes, his hips starting to jerk a little, his self-control beginning to unravel. Halle clamps down on both and Allelujah goes still, submitting just as easily as Lyle does.
Halle deigns to let Lyle breathe a little and pulls his face off of Allelujah's cock, by his hair of course, twisting his fingers and pulling in a way that makes Lyle moan.
Allelujah's knees are weak, but Hallelujah forces him to stay standing, forces Lyle's mouth back down again, one hand now reached around to press against Lyle's throat and make it a little more difficult to swallow that cock.
"Oh my G-- fuck," is the only warning that Hallelujah gets before Allelujah's orgasm washes over the both of them. Halle nearly comes too, nearly follows on the heels of it, but he's too focused on Lyle and cutting off Lyle's air supply, pulling his hair and, finally, when Lyle pulls away from Alle's cock, backhanding him.
Lyle sprawls on the floor with the force of the blow, entire body gone limp and there's still that tent in his pants, still that bulge asking for what Halle isn't in any way about to give him.
Come on, he sends to Alle, putting a bit of compulsion with it so that Allelujah won't give in to his usual post-orgasm sleepiness. We're leaving.
But our stuff-- Alle sends.
Halle shuts him down before he can get the whole thought through. Come on. We're leaving.
Why? Allelujah asks, blearily, as they go down the stairs and exit the flat through the front door.
Because I said so.
And that, Hallelujah thinks, is all the reason that anyone needs.
◊
Lyle comes home bruised and spacey and throws up a few times. Neil makes him go to hospital and they pronounce him concussed, and the next few days are pretty boring. There is nothing Lyle would like to do more than to find his mystery twins and let them finish what they started, but Neil is adamant that he must rest, and Neil even takes off classes to make sure that Lyle doesn't go out of the house.
But the allotted rest period that the doctor gives does eventually pass, and Lyle has to admit (though not to Neil) that he feels much better now. Better enough to go in search of the twins.
He frequents the area where he met them before, hoping for another chance meeting with the lion. Instead he gets the mouse, who won't meet his eyes and stammers out some reply about his brother when Lyle says hello.
"I was just hoping--" Lyle begins, but the mouse cuts him off and finally meets his eyes and it's the goddamn lion looking out from his features. Even the smile that the guy gives is the lion, twisted into a shape that is sharp and feral and the very best kind of dangerous.
All of the blood in Lyle's body rushes to his cock right about the time that the wolf-in-sheep's-clothing says, "Was fucking wondering when to expect seeing you again."
"Yeah, well," is the best Lyle can come up with. He's surprised he can form words at all, and not the least bit shocked that they're all monosyllabic. "Yeah."
"You're either the dumbest motherfucker I've ever met, or..." and the predator trails off into another one of those grins that make Lyle's knees weak. "Well, something."
"Be nice, Halle," the mouse says, peeking out from under the lion's facade for a moment.
Halle? Weird name, but Lyle's heard worse.
"Allelujah," is all the lion-- Halle says, voice sickly-sweet but with an edge to it like a razor. "What have I told you about opening your fucking trap without permission?"
Okay, Lyle is pretty sure he hasn't heard worse names than that, and if the mouse is Allelujah then the lion's Halle is probably Hallelujah and, well, they must have some sort of split personality thing going on or else...
Out of nowhere, he gets blindsided by a punch. Before he even thinks about it, he's hitting back, and the fucker--Halle--ducks the first punch but not the follow-up. Lyle gets bare moments to savor his victory, and then Halle's knocking the wind out of him with a sharp blow to his sternum and once he's on the ground, giving him a swift kick in the kidneys.
Neither of which do anything to make his erection flag even a little.
"You belong to us now," Allelujah says, and smiles sweetly, and Lyle thinks it's the creepiest thing in the entire fucking world that he's so goddamn innocent and dirty at the same time. Not in a bad way, though. More like in a fuck yes way.
It is not a horrible thing, this whole possession business, Lyle decides some time later, when Halle and Alle are busy with beating and fucking him. As long as he gets an orgasm this time, he'll be happy.
Which is where he discovers the down side of possession: he belongs to them, so they have the right to grant or deny orgasms as they see fit. He tries masturbating, but Halle gives him a look like murder and promptly walks out, dragging Alle with him. Lyle comes, but it's empty, like rubbing an itch lightly instead of scratching it.
All Lyle can think is that Neil had better fucking be home by the time he feels steady enough to head that way.