Moving Devon grunted as Stephan straddled his groin, bouncing gently, and tweaked his nipples.
"Nuage, she is right, you should 'ave these pierced…"
"Did you fucking wake me up just to tell me that?" Devon growled, squeezing the Frenchman's erection rather harder than was necessary. Stephan winced, then grinned.
"Non, mon cher. I 'ave woken you because today is the day we move!"
Devon groaned and pulled the pillow over his face.
"Oh fuck…"
"Nuage, she is coming to 'elp."
On cue there was a tap at the door. Stephan trilled out, "Entrez!"
Cloudie opened the door and breezed in, whipping the pillow from Devon's face and planting a sloppy kiss on his forehead.
"Morning, sweetie! I've brought breakfast. Look!"
She proffered a box of jam doughnuts. Stephan shuddered fastidiously.
"What?" Cloudie smirked at the Frenchman. "Sugar, carbohydrates – he needs his energy."
"Chocolat au pain would be better, an' 'ealthier…"
Cloudie opened her mouth to reply but was stopped by Devon's growled:
"Will you two stop talking like I'm not fucking here!"
"Sorry, sweetie," Cloudie leant down and kissed his cheek, then put her palm against Stephan's chest to shove him lightly. "Come on, get offa him, Devon has to get up now or we'll get nothing done."
Pouting, Stephan slid off the young TK's body, eyeing the pale erection regretfully and palming his own. Then he smirked.
"But we would all be more… comfortable… if we were to…"
Cloudie faced Stephan, hands on hips, a stern look on her face.
"No, if we start now we won't stop 'til lunchtime, besides –" grinning, she peeked back over her shoulder at the young TK, "he can screw us both later, after we've finished. Think of it as a reward for a job completed."
Stephan turned to pull on some clothing, muttering unintelligibly under his breath. Devon frowned up at Cloudie, then pushed himself upright and laid the back of his hand against her forehead. She blinked - he shook his head slightly.
"You just said 'no' to a fuck. Must be sick or somethin'…"
"Har bloody har." Cloudie grinned. "No I'm not sick, but unlike some –" she sniffed in a superior fashion, "– I know there's a time to work and a time to play." She leant forwards, kissing his nose then brushing a slow, soft kiss over his lips. "We work now and we can play to our heart's content later. OK?"
He slid his hand down to her breast, fondling the tit ring through the soft cotton of her shirt, and grinned, eyes twinkling.
"Sure?"
Cloudie's gasp was muted but her nipple sprung instantly erect under his talented fingers.
"Bastard, Don't tease." she muttered feelingly, then gently pulled his hand away, twining her fingers with his. "Yes, I'm sure. Oh come on, it'll be fun! Stephan and I have it all worked out..."
If ever there was a way to make Devon run whimpering to someone - anyone! - else, it was those fateful words. Then again, if he wasn't there to keep an eye on things he could end up with a psychedelic Escher-esque nightmare… He glowered, then dragged on a pair of comfortable jeans and an oversized tee-shirt with a habit of sliding off one shoulder, and resignedly followed an animatedly-chattering Cloud and Stephan to the lift…He had to admit, the rooms were great - bigger than his old quarters, and south-facing with large windows in the main bedroom and living room: the 'office', with its corner desk and ubiquitous computer, was a small area of the latter, partially-screened from the larger space by a floor-to-ceiling shelving unit. Personnel had put him up high, too, only one floor below the rooftop garden. Devon stood on comfortably thick, if hardwearing, navy blue flooring in the middle of the currently-white suite and nodded to himself in satisfaction. This would do nicely.
Personnel had been warned - uh, advised - as to who would be doing the decorating: there was no furniture in here, just a huge pile of old sheeting to protect the flooring from paint. The cans of which were stacked neatly against one wall, along with the sprayers, brushes and fillable rollers, overalls and facemasks for those actually doing the work. Stephan nodded approvingly at the colour selection - rich blues (light and dark) rich greens (ditto) and gold - and rubbed his hands together, smirking at Cloudie.
"Shall we commence, chérie?"
She grinned - then pulled a scarf from her pocket and tied it over her hair. Stephan chuckled and winked at Devon.
"Ah, Nuage, she means the business! Come, cheri, you shall direct!""Perhaps you ought to go…"
Devon nodded, tears trickling down his face, trying not to sneeze into the mask. Something, some chemical in the paint he assumed, was playing silly buggers with his sinuses, and the mask - which he hadn't bothered with until his nostrils started stinging - wasn't helping one little bit.
"Don't you… fucking dare… change th' plan…" he wheezed. Stephan's eyes crinkled above his mask.
"Ah, mon cher! Would we do such a thing?"
"Yeah you fuckin' would…" the comment was punctuated by a sneeze. Cloudie giggled.
"Get out of here! We'll *call* you when it's done."Devon slouched in his seat in the lounge area of the almost-deserted restaurant, a half-empty pint of slightly sparkling water on the table at his side. It had taken two hours, some deep breathing in the rooftop garden, and a pint and half of water, but he'd stopped sneezing (although he was still a little snuffly) and his eyes had stopped watering. Now he was worried he'd be allergic to his new rooms…
Cloud had *reassured* him, via the switchboard, that the paint was one of the latest brands, quick-drying, odourless and leaving no residue: an hour to air the suite and everything would be fine. Devon was sceptical. Cloud had *laughed* and told him not to worry…
A shadow fell over him; he looked up into a pair of bright hazel eyes. Paul grinned.
"Hi. Mind if I join you?"
Devon shook his head, smiling. It had been a little while since he'd seen the young precog: the memories went straight to his groin. Paul laughed.
"Well, we can go back to your old room if you like…"
It was tempting… He shook his head in a rare display of self-control.
"Rather talk about the Agency… How long've you been here?"
Paul inclined his head.
"Twelve years next month. I foresee riots, demonstrations, uh, 'illegal assemblies', things like that." He grinned. "Comes in handy sometimes. 'course, it's not a big talent, not like James or Greg - or yours, come to that. But it's useful."
Devon nodded pensively.
"Yeah, I can see it would be. How'd they find you?"
As it happened, Paul had been one of the lucky ones. An Agency seeker had found him when he was just five and puzzling the hell out of his parents with screaming tantrums every time they tried to take him anywhere with more than ten or so people. He'd had the benefit of training from an early age, and had more than repaid the Agency's investment in his training in his first two years of active service. Part of the beauty of his talent was that he didn't need to be in the immediate area in order to use his precog: with a map, half an hour's meditation and a silent, restful atmosphere he could pinpoint major human upheavals anywhere in the world, up to two days in advance - but the effort left him exhausted, and the Agency charged a high price for use of his services to other nations. At home, in London and to a slightly lesser extent the UK, his talent was automatic and effortless, and because he was spared any of the emotional turmoil that normally accompanied the behaviour he foresaw, it was easy for him to use.
And he was also, thought Devon, watching broad but graceful hands gesticulating enthusiastically as he spoke about how privileged he felt to be working here, really very cute…His musings were interrupted by Cloud's *call*.
*We've finished, Dev! Wanna come see?*
He glanced at Paul, who grinned and flapped a hand.
"Better go see the damage. Invite me to the home-warming!Devon hesitated outside the suite, almost afraid to go in… Then Cloud stuck her head out - she had flecks of green and gold paint on her nose, he noticed absently - grabbed his hand, and dragged him into the living room…
Devon gaped.
The place looked beautiful, rich and warm and soothing. They'd hung one of his precious pictures in the bed alcove, at the foot so it could be seen when lying in bed, and the other on the wall in the living room - and the bathroom, he saw when he peeped in, was already stocked with cosmetics and towels, in royal blue and gold.
"Are we good or what?" Cloudie grinned, watching the TK's reaction. She cocked an eyebrow at Stephan, "Maybe we should go into business?"
The Frenchman smirked, wiping his hands on the arse of his overalls.
"It 'elps that you can use more than one brush at a time."
Cloudie flapped her hand airily.
"That was the easy part!" She snuggled up to Devon, nibbling along his jawline. "So – you like?"
"Oh yeah… it's fantastic… thank you, both…"
"An'" announced Stephan, one eyebrow raised, "you are not sneezing. You see? Is 'ypo-allergenic paint."
Cloudie smirked back over her shoulder at Stephan.
"Shall we bathe first or just jump him now?"
Stephan stared at her, then raised his hands in his inimitable Gallic fashion.
"Mais, there is no bed…"
"Well you can wait for the bed if you like," she turned back to Devon sliding one hand underneath his t-shirt to tweak a small nipple, the other delving down beyond the waistband of his jeans to knead his groin. "I don't have the patience."
Smiling happily she pressed nibbling kisses down Devon's throat: the TK gasped, instantly erect, head back as his hands tangled in her hair.
"Ah fuck…"
Stephan pouted, then wrapped himself against Devon's back, shoving heavy hair out of the way and nibbling at the nape of his neck, one hand sliding between his thighs, the other kneading a buttock…
Cloudie stripped off Devon's t-shirt in one effortless move before tackling the fastenings of his jeans. She licked her lips at the sight of his already hard cock, and swiftly dropped to her knees in front of him, tugging his jeans down as she went. Bright blue eyes twinkled up at the TK then she buried her face in his groin, licking around and between his balls, and up the underside of his penis to gently press her tonguetip into the slit.
Devon leaned back against Stephan, head rolling back against the Frenchman's shoulder, eyes closed, groaning. His legs were shaking, and he could feel Stephan's rigid cock through the overalls, pressing against his arse. With one arm around Devon's waist, the other around his chest teasing his nipples, Stephan supported the whimpering TK as Cloudie's skilful tongue fondled and licked as her fingers tickled his balls and the silky skin around his anus - to be rudely shunted aside by Stephan's longer, broader fingers…
As Stephan's fingers found and stroked his prostate, and Cloud took his cock deep into her throat and sucked, Devon cried out, entire body tensing as he came, copiously and hard.
Cloudie smirked, licking her lips to catch the small splash of Devon's semen that had escaped her mouth; then she scowled up at Stephan, who was still supporting the young TK's full weight.
"There was no need to push me out of the way like that."
Stephan scowled back, wriggling his fingers and making Devon whimper and squirm as they teased his prostate.
"This is mine. You 'ave no claim."
"If that's yours –" Cloudie giggled, "– this is mine!" She sucked Devon's cock back into her mouth while she gently palmed his balls.
Stephan glowered, fingers stroking a little harder, other hand brushing lightly over hard nipples, scratching and tweaking, grinning down at Cloudie as Devon moaned.
"You want something, mon cher?"
"Stop… fuckin'… talkin'…"
Stephan bit the side of his neck gently, making him shudder.
"You want we should do something else?"
"… ah… fuck you, Stephan…"
The Frenchman nuzzled his hair.
"Mais oui! But per'aps you should fuck Nuage first, hm?"
Cloudie pulled back, feigning astonishment.
"Why thank you, Stephan, and people say the French have no manners!" She smiled at Devon as she pulled the scarf away from her hair. "I'm cool with that, sweetie, okay with you?"
Without waiting for an answer she bounced to her feet, shrugging out of the overalls and kicking them to one side. She slid her loose cotton trousers down over her hips, letting them puddle to the floor before stepping out of them. They also got kicked aside then – eyes shining – she pressed close to Devon, taking his hands and placing them over her breasts, on the outside of her shirt.
"Undo the buttons for me?" Cloudie whispered, moving Devon's palms over her hardening nipples.
Mesmerised, he rubbed his thumbs across the hard nubs, then with shaking hands fumbled the buttons undone, bending slightly - and thereby allowing Stephan a different angle, of which the Frenchman immediately took advantage, easing in another finger and fondling firmly - to lick at a nipple as his hand played with the other tit-ring. Cloudie arched back, holding onto his shoulders for support and sighed blissfully. She took one of his hands and ran it down over her abdomen, stopping at her groin. The TK wriggled her thighs apart a little in invitation.
Devon swallowed, his throat dry, and sank to his knees, forcing Stephan to drop with him or be dislodged - then, hands cupping her buttocks, nipped up one inner thigh and down the other, hair brushing over her clit… Careful not to touch her skin any more than necessary, he caught the clit ring between his teeth and tugged gently, hands kneading, breath coming faster as Stephan wrapped a hand around his erection and began to pump, fingers still deep in Devon's arse.
As close as she was to the edge already, Cloudie gasped and came, curling forwards with a sobbing whimper, burying her fingers in Devon's glorious copper hair.
"Oh, christ," she panted, managing to stay standing for a second or two before sinking to her knees again.
"Get your hands off him, Stephan," Cloudie somewhat shakily ordered the Frenchman, swivelling around until she was facing away from Devon then dropping forwards onto her elbows and angling her buttocks upwards. "My turn."
Grinning, all too aware of how aroused Devon was, Stephan released his cock: the TK growled and gripped Cloud's hips, dragging her back and upright and onto his rigid, weeping erection and rammed home hard, pulling out and slamming back in over and over again, one arm over her hip, fingers fondling her clit and ring, the other around her chest, playing with first one tit ring, then the other, face buried in her neck, suckling hard…
Cloudie ceded complete control to the TK, riding out his thrusts in a rapid descent into mindless pleasure. Oblivious to her surroundings and Stephan, to everything except the sensations Devon was wringing from her body, Cloudie came again with a hoarse cry, blinded momentarily by the burst of light shooting across her vision.
Devon hugged her against his body, gritting his teeth as he tried not to come - and failing as Stephan fondled his prostate again - ramming hard up into her, the fast rhythmic quivering of her cunt tipping him over the edge as he pulsed, both hands cupping her breasts, pinching her nipples and biting her shoulder…
Shaking, panting hoarsely as he slowly came back down, he slid from her cunt deliciously slowly, hands easing gently to fondle the nipples as he kissed her neck - then looked over his shoulder to Stephan… A flushed and painfully hard Stephan who'd waited patiently all this time…
Breathing hard, Cloudie wriggled bonelessly out of his grasp, almost falling when it looked like she was trembling too hard to support herself. Too replete for delicacy, Cloudie sprawled on her back, thighs relaxed apart.
"You can do him now." Her sated, slurring mumble took the edge off the regal arrogance of her comment.
Devon blinked, then scowled.
"Very fuckin' big of you…" He twisted slightly to peer at Stephan. "Want to be up me?"
Stephan winced at the crudeness - but he was hard and weeping and desperate to be inside Devon… He eased his fingers out and positioned his cock, shoving in eagerly as the TK collapsed forwards onto his hands and knees, eyes closed, lips parted, loving the feeling of fullness and the sharp thrusts against his prostate… before he knew it he was hard again.
Stephan's head was flung back, his hands gripping Devon's hips as he pounded into the tense, hot arse: moments later he came with a whimpered cry, jerking back and forth tightly then falling forwards to rain kisses over the TK's shoulders.
"Ah, mon cher…"
Devon pulled forwards, yanking Stephan sharply from his body - then manhandled the bemused Frenchman onto his hands and knees and shoved into him, wringing a half-pained, half-rapturous cry from him.
"Mon dieu, Devon! Tu vas me tuer…"
Stephan dropped forwards, forehead resting on his forearms, arse raised for Devon's thrusts, blissful expression on his face, hips jolting back to meet the TK's pounding. Cloudie watched, hand lazily stroking Devon's buttock or Stephan's cock, until with a clenched-teeth growl Devon rammed deeply one last time and came, hands cupping Stephan's jerking cock, pumping and milking as the Frenchman groaned his climax.Some minutes later Stephan raised his head, blinking, panting slightly under the slight weight of Devon collapsed along his back.
"Merde…"
Devon chuckled throatily, one hand reaching to tweak Cloudie's clit ring: she twitched and giggled.
"Well, I think that's my lounge well and fucking truly… consecrated…"
Stephan sighed.
"I need to bathe…"
Devon's nose wrinkled: they smelt of sex and semen and sweat and Cloudie's sweet perfume…
"Yeah - think we all do…"Cloudie sunk down into the wonderfully warm water until her nose was almost touching the sweetly scented bubbles.
"Fucking amazing bath…" Devon too was sunk up to his chin luxuriating in the warmth. Cloudie grinned at Stephan, who was soaping Devon's mane of hair; they'd made sure Devon's new quarters had a decent sized bath in it, knowing as they both did how much the young TK liked to soak in the bath… amongst other things.
Devon smirked and stretched out a foot, toes kneading at her groin, and she slid her thighs apart, sighing as he teased between her legs. Stephan chuckled.
"Eh, you are the insatiable…"
Devon twisted to kiss him.
"Don't hear you complaining!"
The Frenchman slid soapy hands down the TK's chest, pinching his nipples and smirking at Cloudie.
"Shall we persuade 'im to 'ave these pierced?"
Cloudie raised an eyebrow, the thought of it raising heat in her groin.
"Oh yeah!"
Devon eyed her for a moment, then shook his head despairingly, toes wriggling against her clit ring as he leaned back against Stephan, eyes closed as he luxuriated in being pampered…
There were muffled sounds filtering through the bathroom door; the furniture was being delivered while they bathed. Cloudie sighed contentedly, eyes drifting closed as she relaxed. Once they'd finished in here and had something to eat, Devon - advised by Stephan and herself of course, as to placement - could shunt the furniture around with his TK. And then they could spend the rest of the day christening the bed - she grinned to herself, stretching deliciously in the water - and the couch and the table and and and…Wilma 'Wombat' de Winter regarded the tall, broad man standing in a semblance of 'attention' in front of her.
"The decision's final, James."
"I don't like him, he doesn't like me – it's not going to work."
"Yes. It. Will." The older woman punctuated each word with an emphatic thrust of her finger into the air in front of the 'path's chest, "And do you know why it's going to work?"
James scowled but knew better than to say anything at that point.
"Because you are one of the best field instructors I've ever seen, you are conscientious and dedicated, and you are going to get beyond this pointless animosity to make sure that kid is trained properly!"
James continued scowling down at the field-agent boss. He'd known Wilma for years, in fact she'd been his minder when he first came to the agency - of course, she'd been called William then...
"How's Doug?" James asked with a disarming smile.
"Good, thank you." Wilma's broad face broke into a big smile, "the treatments are working better than we'd hoped and don't you change the subject!" She humphed at him crossly. "Do you dislike Devon purely because you feel he threatens your relationship with Cloudie? I know how you feel about her, and you know you can't keep her caged – that's the fastest way to lose her."
"He doesn't threaten me at all!" James growled, "No, I dislike him because I don't trust him. He's one day and a square meal away from being a rogue talent, and I don't want to keep Cloudie all to myself, it's just not healthy for her to get involved with this... brat."
"She doesn't appreciate being controlled."
"I'm not trying to control her," James barked in frustration, "I'm –"
"– trying to protect her, I know." Wilma frowned at the 'path. "She's not a frightened fourteen year-old any more, James, she's a big girl now – capable of making her own decisions. You can't protect her anymore than she wants to be."
"This is not a good relationship for her to be in." James was adamant.
Wilma folded her arms across her soft, hormone enhanced bosom and shook her head.
"You are so stubborn sometimes, James. But it doesn't change the fact that you've been assigned to Devon as his primary instructor. The sooner you get used to that the sooner you can finish his training and be done with him."
James slashed his hand through the air, a curt gesture expressing his disgust.
"I want it on record that I'm doing this under protest."
"No worries, darlin' –" Wilma's cultured accent broadened out into her native Australian, "– you're on record everywhere that you're not happy with it."Wilma sat pensively at her desk in her small office cuddling the large, soft toy wombat that lived on the shelf under the window. Given her love for the bulky marsupials - and that she was an expatriate Australian - it was kind of inevitable she'd earned the nickname 'Wombat'. She pressed her cheek to the soft plush with a happy sigh; Doug, her husband, had given her the toy four years ago when she'd made the decision to follow her true nature and live as a woman at the ripe old age of forty-eight.
"I dunno, Fatso," Wilma murmured to the wombat - her confidante and Doug-substitute at work, "James can be such a bull-headed prick sometimes." Her lips curled up in a wicked smile. "This is going to be very interesting to watch…"Hands thrust deep into his trouser pockets, James stalked back to his quarters. Was he the only one who could see this kid was trouble? He hadn't been entirely honest with Wilma - he did see Devon as a threat to the special relationship he had with Cloudie, if only because he was closer to her age than he was… and he resented the way she glowed when she'd been with him. The fact was, Cloudie had a special place in his heart, had done since the night shortly after she'd been given over into his keeping when she'd crept into his bed looking for comfort and security. James smiled to himself, remembering the… astonishment, rapidly followed by the warm glow of pride that suffused him from toes to crown when he realised just how much the emotionally battered girl must trust him. If he'd been anybody else, if she'd been anybody else, he might have taken advantage of that trust and fucked her. Even as messed up as she'd been she was a very desirable fourteen year old; but he hadn't, he couldn’t. He had to give them credit, whoever it was that had matched them up initially, for realising that Cloudie needed someone she could trust and he needed someone to love and protect. The sex had come later and it wasn't so much that Cloudie was legally of age by then but that she was ready for it.
There was one advantage to being assigned as Devon's instructor - James half-scowled - it meant he'd be spending more time at the Agency, and consequently, he'd have more time to spend with Cloudie. He missed her when he was out on assignment, missed the bright happiness she carried around with her. Spending time with her - with or without the sex - buoyed him up somehow and lightened the dark moods he was subject to. She was good for him and dammit, he didn't like the thought she could be as good for someone else.Devon lay on his back, dozing Stephan cuddled into one side, sleeping Cloudie into the other, their heads resting on his shoulders, his arms around them both. He yawned, eyes closing, sated and content - they'd managed to wear each other out, eventually, and his bones felt as though they'd melted. But it was good, very good. He was safe, and happy, amongst people who truly cared. And for whom he cared, too. He smiled at Stephan: the Frenchman looked so innocent when he slept, so different from the teasing, sardonic marksman he was when awake. And Cloud… He kissed her forehead gently, surprised at the depth of his affection for her. She really should have been called Sunny - it seemed that everything blossomed under her brightness… brightness, she'd used the term of him, hadn't she? He was beginning to think he understood what she meant…
© 2003 June 20th Joules with a bit of Lutra
Darkside
© 2003 WordWrights