The Soul of a Bird Never Flies {boyxboy}

Chapter Fifteen

~Saturday 4th August 2018~

Eryll didn't often misplace things. Everything in his room had a home, and he was rather meticulous about things being in their rightful places. Hence, when he came to look in the top drawer of his bedside table a previous night that week for some light reading, he noticed immediately that something was missing. And had a very solid idea of who may have been the culprit.

He wasn't angry, how could he be? Dove was overtly curious, and he had already admitted to wanting to divulge in some of Eryll's darker kinks, there was no harm in him looking into the less sickening ones. Eryll was merely thankful Dove hadn't dived deeper into the drawer and found his journal, that would have been a difficult aspect to explain. Page upon page filled with exactly three hundred names, each with their own description, drawing and set of dates. Adult magazines were preferable.

"You look distracted," Aamon commented absently, rousing Eryll from his thoughts as he passed him a glass of whiskey, "something you'd like to divulge?"

"Dove took a magazine from my bedside table," Aamon immediately shared in the same wicked smirk that graced Eryll's lips.

"Well if you insist on leaving your paraphernalia around where he can find it. The boy certainly looks to be a curious one, it was bound to happen."

"It's not a bad thing, trust me," Eryll assured, the images fluttering through his mind adding to his growing arousal, "just the thought of him in a beautiful lace negligee..." Eryll chuckled lowly, his cock twitching at the mere prospect of his boy adorning the sheer, silken fabric, "I'd pay a lot of money to see that."

"Judging by how often the two of you eye-fuck one another, I really doubt it will ever come to that," Eryll rolled his eyes, although he knew his friend had a point. He had recently been noticing how much Dove would stare at him, that boy was definitely developing feelings faster than many of Eryll's other lovers.

"He's sleeping," Belial commented as he and Baphomet wandered into the room, both draping themselves over the couch that Aamon was sat on, "can we fuck now, Amante?" Belial whined, both boys pouting at their husband.

"Have you heard anything about Abyzou?" Aamon inquired, ignoring his husbands completely. He was one to play hard to get, he had never been an easy fuck, Eryll knew that personally.

"Other than he's recruiting again, no. Dove hasn't mentioned seeing anyone matching his description lurking around, neither have Nimue or Ravana. He doesn't seem to be out in the open," Eryll couldn't help his eyes straying to Belial and Baphomet, who were rutting up against one another, moaning dramatically, clearly trying to get Aamon's attention. It was never an easy feat.

"He's always been a difficult man," Aamon glanced to his right, his lips twitching at the sight of his two husbands' with their hands down each other's jeans, "did you ever figure out why he did all of this?" Belial had already begun littering dark marks on the neck of his husband, occasionally capturing Baphomet's mouth in symbolic kisses, the lewd noises admittedly turning Eryll on to no extent. The man may have a heart for only one, but it was undeniable that Aamon's husbands were far more than ravishing, especially when they were trying to get the latter's attention.

"No," Eryll sighed, finishing his whiskey and leaving the glass on the coffee table, "I'm not sure we ever will unless I manage to talk to him face to face. Even then, I don't think he would talk, it would be too good of an opportunity for him to pass up, to withhold that kind of information. It could drive someone insane," Aamon nodded, holding up one finger before he turned to his groaning husbands.

"If either of you cum, that will be the only time tonight, understand?" Aamon growled in that forceful tone of his, the one Eryll was sure the two husbands wouldn't dare disobey. Reluctantly, the two boys removed their hands from the other's jeans, with Baphomet looking far more miserable than Belial, panting into the crook of his husband's neck. He had never had great orgasm control, or didn't the last time Eryll had met up with the men anyway. Aamon leant to his right, gripping Baphomet's chin and covering the boy's mouth with his own, neither caring for the lewd sounds they managed to make, both evidently aware of Belial and Eryll watching them intently.