Title: Curtain's Fall 9/?
Section: I Casting Call (9/11)
Author: Magpie and Wolfling
Email: magpie@moracle.co.uk and wolfling@sympatico.ca
Show: Buffy
Rating: NC-17
Category: angst, hurt/comfort
Warnings: spoilers up to the end of Chosen
Pairings: Giles/Ethan
Series: Of Old Mystics, sequel to Charades
Summary: The roles have all been filled and the players move into place.

Author Notes: This is the last story of the Old Mystics Series, sequel to Charades. We expect this to be rather long -- long enough that we've developed it into subsections: I Casting Call, II Dress Rehearsal, III Opening Night, IV Grand Finale, and V Encore. Many thanks to Mad Poetess and Wesleysgirl for betaing :) Previous stories in the series can be found http://www.myarseisnotpansy.co.uk/piedm/mystics.html. Thanks to all the people who have sent us feedback.

"Inside," Rupert said, with a faint smile. "I have a few places I used to sneak off to when I was young and trying to smoke without getting caught."

"Naughty boy," Ethan scolded fondly, coveting yet again the child he had never known, although by the time Rupert had been covertly smoking, it couldn't have been that long before when they had found each other.

They followed Rupert inside, all three of them apparently making an effort to be quiet, as if they were teenagers trying to sneak in late without being heard. Their attempts were rather ruined, of course, when two yapping, bouncing dogs appeared, prancing around their ankles. Or in Giddy's case, thighs.

"It's a good thing we don't actually need to sneak," Ian chuckled, looking down at the scampering animals.

"Covert operations are certainly not their specialty," Rupert agreed, then slipped away from them into a side room for a moment, Gwydion galloping after him.

Ethan picked Skunk up, wondering if he was imagining the slightly reproachful look she seemed to give him. "Come now, menace. I can't take you *everywhere*, and I can't imagine you would have enjoyed an ice cold bath either." Her look and sharp yap seemed to imply that yes, he could, and yes, she would have. Ethan rolled his eyes at Ian. "Ever had a pet?"

"Not as such, no. Although I am on speaking terms with much of the wildlife around Devon."

Ethan stared appraisingly at him. "Ever, hmm, I don't know. Ever sabotaged a hunt?" Ethan's 'innocent' tone was about as innocent as Madam Sin herself. Unfortunately, before Ian could answer, Rupert came back, carrying two bottles of what looked like very good malt, Gwydion still trotting happily at his heels.

"Will this suit you more than soup and toast, Ian?"

Ian smiled at Rupert and nodded, seeming more at ease with the man now that he'd joined their wicked activities. "I believe that is exactly what is needed to hit the spot."

"Wonderful man," Ethan said. "This is going to be good. Or rather, delightfully bad." He did catch himself thinking fondly of the several packets of crisps he had secreted in the pockets of his soaking wet coat... currently languishing in the back of Rupert's car, but he wasn't so hungry that he wanted to delay things. "Lead on."

Rupert grinned, for a second looking eerily like the boy Ethan remembered, as he led the way up stairs once and then again until they were on the unused third floor. "The best room for this kind of thing is down this way," he said, leading them to the left.

As Rupert led them on a twisting path, Ethan decided they were heading into one of the wings of the house, which as Ethan understood, were both mothballed being both in need of a little repair and not required by the household. They passed many shut doors, and even though Ethan knew the house wasn't *that* big, he began to feel otherwise. "I think we maybe should have left a trail of breadcrumbs behind us."

"Don't trust me to get you back?" Rupert asked, glancing over his shoulder at Ethan.

"You haven't tried Ian's dope yet," Ethan told him with a laugh. "You'll be lucky if you can find your way to your toes." They stopped in front of a door that was near on identical to the many others they'd passed.

Rupert touched the lock, and Ethan felt a slight surge of magic. "Lost the key years ago," Rupert murmured, as he turned the knob.

Inside was not what Ethan was expecting. It was a smallish room which was anything but square, the walls having multiple angular intrusions and alcoves and the ceiling sloping towards the small window. There was what appeared to be a genuine Victorian mural painted on one wall, and although the images were faded now, the bunnies and toy soldiers among other things made it clear this had once been a nursery.

The two dogs immediately began sniffing around everything.

Most of the furniture was bundled up one end and covered in the ubiquitous sheeting, but there was a big saggy old couch against one wall, a faded emerald in colour, and a small table by one side of it. There was an ashtray on the table in which Ethan could make out ancient cigarette butts amongst the dust. There was also an ancient candle on an old chipped saucer and a matchbox.

"Oh, Ripper," Ethan said admiringly. "You naughty, naughty little boy."

"Had a touch of the rebel in you even back then, eh?" Ian said, looking around approvingly.

Rupert inclined his head. "I was well on my way to corruption before I fell in with a bad crowd." He smiled at Ethan, leaving no doubt who the bad crowd was.

Ethan waited for Rupert to put the bottles down on the table and then took his hand. Spontaneously, he reached out for Ian's hand as well. He pulled them down onto the sofa on either side of him. The seat sunk under their weight, releasing a cloud of dust with a quiet 'whuff' noise, and he giggled, feeling very young in the best possible way.

Giddy ran right into the cloud of dust and sneezed loudly, which only made Ethan giggle more.

Rupert was looking at him. "I'm beginning to wonder if you haven't already had enough."

Ethan stuck his tongue out at Rupert. "I'm having fun, and so should you be." He handed Ian back his little bag. "Would you care to do the honours?"

With a smile and a flourish, Ian pulled out three joints and deftly lit them. His eyes half-closed in pleasure as he handed one each to Ethan and Rupert. "This is some good stuff, if I do say so myself."

Ethan had to agree. He slumped into the sofa, tipping his head back as the drug hit him. Rupert and Ian were warm on either side of him, the sofa's dimensions pushing them close together. His head spun pleasantly, and he laughed again, feeling really rather extraordinarily happy. "Doesn't this take you back, Ripper?"

"It does indeed. Enough of this and I might even let you try to fly something." He leant more heavily against Ethan. "I wonder whatever happened to our old tin of tricks?"

That soured Ethan's mood immediately. "I burnt it," he said bluntly. "Along with everything else."

Rupert stilled at that, managing to lift his head enough to study Ethan's face. "You burned...?"

Another hand found its way to Ethan's shoulder in a comforting grasp; Ian, providing what support he could.

Ethan took another deep drag of Ian's dope and wondered if he should tell. What good would details do Rupert after all? They'd just distress him a quarter-century after it was too late to do anything about it. The confession had just slipped out while his attention was elsewhere. "Yes," he said slowly. "No big deal. You should come to the pub with us next time we go, Ripper. The clientele seem to come straight out of a Hammer Horror; I expected them any moment to start warning us not to go up to the big house. And the beer--"

"Ethan." Rupert brushed a hand lightly against Ethan's cheek. "Tell me."

"You really won't like it."

The ghost of a smile touched his husband's lips. "Yes, I've already figured that much out."

Ethan sighed, his eyes closed. The touch of both men was reassuring, but... He sighed again. "Promise me you won't be angry at your Gran. It wasn't her fault, not really."

Even that seemed enough for Rupert to figure out some of what Ethan wasn't telling him. "This was after she sent you away then."

Pressing his head back into the sofa, Ethan kept his eyes tightly shut. "I, um, went a bit loopy. Didn't, as you might say, cope that well." He took another drag of the slim joint and this time left it between his lips.

Rupert didn't say anything, just brushed his fingers against Ethan's cheek again, the gesture full of regret, apology, and reassurance.

Ethan knew better, however, than to think he'd be allowed to shut up now. Best just get it out quickly. "I spent the few days left before Christmas visiting each of our friends in turn and behaving abominably. Got myself beaten up more than once. Made sure none of them would ever take me into their homes again. Then I... Then I bought a can of petrol and committed arson. Which is why I don't have any mementos from those days. Can we talk about something else now? This is not so much bumming my trip as killing it stone dead."

Rupert pulled back and took a deliberate and heavy pull on his own joint before leaning over, removing Ethan's joint from his lips, and kissing him deeply. The potent smoke drifted between their open mouths. Ethan felt the hit together with an extra tingling; Rupert had imbued it with a touch of his own magic as well. "Better?" Rupert asked when he finally pulled back, eyes dark and dilated from the drug's effect.

"Much." Ethan slumped against Rupert, resting his hand and forearm on Rupert's nearest thigh and letting the tension that had quickly built leave his body just as quickly. He smiled apologetically over at Ian. "Sorry about the unexpected true confessions."

Ian waved the apology away casually. "Don't worry about it at all, my boy. One of the things that happen with altered states of consciousness." He took a hit from his joint and added, almost seemingly as an afterthought, "And fire is quite a common reaction."

Ethan studied him and asked very gently, "Is it?"

"Oh yes. My immediate predecessor for what we are immolated herself when her partner was killed." Ian took another long slow deliberate puff. "And I practically burnt down an entire village."

Ethan heard himself make a little noise in his throat and felt Rupert's arm around his shoulders tighten, pulling Ethan against his chest. He took his joint back from Rupert's hand and thought about what Ian had revealed, remembering the dark time when it had finally hit home that Rupert really was gone. "Ian, has there always been people like the Coven watching over the young Guardian pairs?"

"There have always been those whose gift -- or curse -- it is to know things others don't," Ian replied easily enough, shrugging.

"Why do they let this happen to us then?" Ethan found he was echoing Rupert's concerns from the other day. "Why don't they find us when we're young, protect us, help us...?"

"Because that's not the way it's done." It was Rupert who answered, voice bitter. "If you read the prophecies, you can track them, guide them, but you never get directly involved. Never try to change things for the better."

"Letting children, or adults hardly grown into their skin, die or commit murder, or worse, because you believe people should be allowed to make their own mistakes is... is... " Ethan didn't finish, mainly because he hadn't a clue what was right or wrong here.

"Council policy," Rupert finished bluntly. "Or at least it was."

"The Coven is not the Council." Ethan had always believed his life was his own to bugger up as he pleased, and should be so. Yet had they had help and protection when they'd needed it... even if it had been forced upon them... oh, he simply wasn't wise enough to work this one out.

Both dogs, sensing their masters' distress, came close, making contact with human legs or hands, expressing sympathy and support in their canine way.

"The Coven wasn't powerful enough to stand up to Vaurtain," Ian said softly.

"Did they try?" Ethan asked, after a long pause during which he finished his joint.

"Not in anyone's living memory." Ian took another long drag. "But yes."

Ethan looked down. "This boys-get-stoned-together jaunt is turning out to be a lot less fun than I'd anticipated." What the hell; he might as well ask the question that had been worrying him for months. "So, you two wiser than me types, are we really saying that the things I did while without Rupert were necessary because only by living in the enemy's camp was I -- and therefore the prophecy -- safe? The people I... hurt. They were... what's that handy American euphemism? Necessary Collateral Damage?"

No one answered him. Ian avoided his gaze, looking instead down at the joint in his hand. Rupert tugged on his shoulder, turning him more fully into an embrace.

"Fuck," Ethan muttered quietly, swallowing. He wriggled around in Rupert's arms and leant over him to stub his tiny roach out in the old ashtray. With determination, he grabbed one of the hand-sized bottles of whisky before he settled back down, opening it. He was quite prepared to get completely sodding pissed.

"I think," Rupert said, running a hand soothingly over Ethan's chest, "that we've lost the knack of getting stoned."

"We're 'old men, toughened by life's scars,' remember. Thick and impermeable as old leather, us." Tipping up the bottle, Ethan took several gulps, hardly feeling the burn, then passed it to Ian.

"You've reached an age of experience, yes," Ian said, "but you're hardly old men. That's not a description that will ever be apt for you two." He took a long drink.

"What the hell does that mean?" Ethan asked crossly as he waited to get the bottle back.

Ian's answer was typical Coven-cryptic. "Sometimes magic can stand outside of time."

Ethan stared at his mentor long and hard, and he was suddenly at the end of his tether with all the angst, uncertainty, and constant half-repressed fear. This wasn't him. Really.

He was going to enjoy tonight. Most of it had already been good, and this last few minutes was just a... an aberration. Letting a smirk curve his lips, he said to Rupert behind him, "I suggest we consider a new tactic for these closed mouthed Coven types. Asking questions just makes them worse. So I suggest... tickling."

"Tickling?" Rupert echoed, laughter in his voice.

"Yes, tickling," Ethan repeated, narrowing his eyes at a laughing Ian, who clearly didn't believe he was in any danger. In a sudden movement, Ethan surged up from his half-recumbent position against Rupert and threw himself on top of Ian. He proceeded to tickle every not-too-intimate area of the man, shamelessly tweaking patterns wherever he touched.

For a moment, he had the upper hand. Then Ian started tickling him back.

"Ripper!" Ethan called urgently, trying to protect himself as he rolled back onto the sofa. "You're meant to be helping me!"

"Oh no," Ian told him, redoubling his efforts. "This is between you and me, boy. You started it, and I will finish it." Ethan glanced once more at Rupert only to receive a half-apologetic shrug.

Ethan was tweaking patterns wildly, his own to try to stop the excruciating sensations, and Ian's to make his worse, but Ian of course was doing the same and apparently was better at it. "Sod it!" Ethan complained between pretty much helpless bursts of laughter. He wiggled furiously under his mentor, but help was at hand. A black and white tornado landed on top of Ian and proceeded, it seemed, to try to lick the older man into submission.

"Good dog!" Ethan asserted loudly. "Excellent hound." He began to squirm down the sofa and off the edge, Ian still more or less on top of him

Ian laughed at Skunk's attentions and tried to squirm away from the puppy. He didn't relinquish his hold on Ethan however. In exasperation, Ethan twisted his body and bit one of Ian's hands. Hard. Ian jerked his hand away and pulled back cursing.

Rupert was still sitting on the sofa quite obviously trying not to laugh at the antics he was watching. Ethan slipped to the floor and leant against Rupert's legs. He smirked up at Ian, licking his lips. "Is that what they mean by eating crow, do you think?"

"It's what they mean by biting off more than you can chew," Ian shot back, sliding down to lean back against the bottom of the sofa beside Ethan. "Or it would be if I didn't like you so much."

"But you do, so I win." Ethan stuck his tongue out at Ian and waggled it salaciously, enjoying being able to act a six year old. He was slightly out of breath and feeling much happier. If a trifle silly. Skunk laid claim to the seat he'd vacated, panting loudly at Ethan's ear level, and he fondled her ears approvingly until he had a sudden thought. "Where'd that bottle go?"

Ian looked around, glancing up over Ethan's shoulder. "Your husband seems to have claimed it." Ethan turned his head to look upwards and saw Rupert with the bottle to his lips, his throat working as he took long swallows.

"We've driven him to drink," he said sadly. "Poor dear." He patted Rupert's leg comfortingly.

"What a shame," Ian said, shaking his head sympathetically. "Especially since it makes it more difficult for *us* to be driven to drink."

Ethan twisted around and rested his chin on Rupert's leg. He stroked a hand up the inner seam of Rupert's trousers and looked up at him beseechingly. Rupert lowered the bottle. "Is there something I can do for you?"

"Always." Ethan stroked the hand up further and sent, 'Do you mind me flirting with him? You know I would never...'

'I know,' Rupert sent back immediately. 'I don't mind. It's good to see you laughing.'

'I love you,' Ethan sent, feeling doting. Then he made a swipe for the whisky bottle.

Rupert pulled the bottle out of Ethan's reach, holding it above his head. "No."

Ethan mock-glared at him and then allowed a sly smile to form on his lips as he shuffled over to the other side of Rupert and gripped him around the ankle. "Ian? Take a leg, would you? There's a good man." Ian grinned at him then reached out and grabbed Rupert's other ankle.

"Ethan, what are you--" Rupert began.

With a huge conspiratorial grin at Ian, Ethan said quickly. "One- two-three and..." And they yanked together, dragging Rupert rapidly down the sofa and off to land flat on his back on the floor. Whisky, of course, went everywhere, although particularly on Rupert. The dogs barked excitedly, and half-crippled by breathless laughter, Ethan made another lunge for the bottle.

Rupert again jerked it away, more liquid sloshing out at the abrupt movements. Then a truly evil expression came over his face. "Do you want the whisky?"

Bugger! Ethan knew that look. He held his hands up in a hurry, sitting back on his heels. "Now, Ripper. You don't want to do anything I wouldn't do, do you? Or for that matter, anything I would do..."

"No, no. You've made it very clear that you want the whisky, and far be it for me to deprive you." Moving quickly, Rupert tackled Ethan, pushing him down on his back, then poured the rest of the whisky bottle over his head.

Ethan kept his eyes tightly shut and spluttered curses as the alcohol hit his mouth. Rupert had one hand firmly pressing down on Ethan's shoulder, pinning him, while the rest him straddled Ethan's hips. When the stream stopped, Ethan twisted and wiped his face on Rupert's shirtsleeve. "Waste of good single malt, that," he grumbled.

"There's more where it came from," Rupert replied with a shrug. "Quite literally -- there's another bottle on the table there, Ian, if you want some."

Ethan was, of course, now rather hard. Rupert overpowering him, holding him down, had a tendency to have that effect. Able to see now through slightly stinging eyes, he smirked up at Rupert and wriggled.

The evil smile reappeared on Rupert's face, and he said. "And who said this was going to go to waste?" With that, Rupert leant down and began licking the whisky from Ethan's skin.

Oh Christ. Ethan gasped quietly and then just tried to lie there as Rupert's tongue rasped over his face and neck. But he couldn't stop the shivers running through him or prevent his cock hardening further. "Bad, wicked, evil man," he muttered as his eyes closed in pleasure.

"When I need to be," Rupert murmured, the breath of his words hot puffs against Ethan's face.

Ethan heard Ian moving to the side of them, presumably to get himself the second bottle of booze. He wondered if he should feel bad about what was occurring here, or if Ian would enjoy another chance to watch Rupert in action. Because if Rupert proved to be drunk or high enough to actually truly start something, Ethan really didn't want to stop him. And of course, being watched wasn't exactly a turn off.

He moaned softly, Rupert's activities making it difficult for Ethan to keep thinking about everything clearly, not that the various drugs in his system were helping there either. Moving into a place he knew well, a place of instinct and feeling more than thought, he moved one hand up to tangle lightly into Rupert's hair while the other reached out blindly for Ian to the side. Well, not quite blindly, as pattern sense meant Ethan knew full well where Ian was.

He could almost sense the hesitation in the air before Ian closed his hand around Ethan's. As Rupert continued to concentrate on cleaning up every drop of alcohol that had landed on Ethan, Ethan squeezed Ian's hand, the touch and the implicit willingness for, well, something, almost as much of a turn on as Rupert heavy above him, nuzzling and licking in the crook of Ethan's neck. "Ripper," he murmured. "My Ripper..."

Rupert lifted his head and stared down at Ethan for a moment with eyes dilated from drugs and desire before swooping in and ravishing his mouth. Groaning deeply in his throat, Ethan opened to Rupert's tongue, his fingers tightening in Rupert's hair. Rupert's weight was heavy over Ethan's hips, but that didn't stop Ethan squirming at least a little.

When they were both more than a bit breathless, Rupert pulled back just enough to grin and say, "Isn't this usually when you want to make something fly?"

Ethan opened his eyes wide. "I'm not flying?"

Rupert chuckled, and gave him another nipping kiss. "You are so easy."

"Are you calling me a slut?" He tried to follow Rupert's lips as they were taken away again.

"Well, you're certainly not a prude."

Inadvertently almost, Ethan turned his face to look at Ian, who was watching with a slight smile on his face, but his eyes still looked sad. Ethan felt his face fall. "Oh Ian. Are we just tormenting you? I thought, I hoped..." He didn't finish as he hadn't really thought at all, and his hopes were probably unwise to state aloud. He rubbed Ian's palm with his thumb and looked up at the man's face.

"It is good to see the two of you together," Ian told him, squeezing his hand. "A victory of sorts."

'Rupert?' Ethan sent tentatively, unclear about what he was asking for.

Rupert turned his head to look at Ian for a long moment, then he turned back to meet Ethan's gaze. 'I'm not sure what you want to give him, but...'

'I don't know either. It's just... he's so alone.'

Rupert studied him. 'You want to ask him to join us. This once.'

Rupert understood Ethan better than Ethan understood himself. 'Maybe. If it won't hurt you. Or him.' Ian was getting restless beside Ethan, clearly understanding there was a conversation to which he wasn't privy. Ethan squeezed his hand and said to him, "Feed me some of that whisky, would you?"

Ian obligingly shifted, letting go of Ethan's hand and sliding his behind Ethan's head to help raise it. "Try and get at least some of it on the inside of you," he teased as he brought the bottle up.

As Ethan carefully swallowed a few mouthfuls, he raised his hand to cup Ian's face, stroking lightly with the side of this thumb. 'Tell me now, Ripper,' he sent. 'Either answer is fine, but I need to have one of them.'

'It won't be the first time we've shared, and this is for far better reasons, ' Rupert replied. 'Do what you feel you should, love.'

Should? Ha. Ethan had no idea what he should do, but he now knew what he *would* be doing. When Ian removed the bottle from Ethan's lips, Ethan met his gaze and said quietly, "Put the lid on the bottle, dear thing, then come here."

Ian frowned. "Ethan--"

"Shh," Ethan soothed, not letting their gazes part. "Just let it happen. Feel the patterns here, Ian. Feel the tide pulling you in and don't fight it."

Myriad emotions seemed to flash through Ian's eyes, but he put the bottle down and slowly moved back. Ethan cupped his face again, pulling him gently but inexorably down. Lifting his head, Ethan met lips with softly pressed lips. For the first few heartbeats, Ian simply let him, but then, almost hesitantly he began to kiss him back.

Ian tasted of whisky, of course, and of the dope from earlier, but also of something more uniquely him, something that spoke to Ethan of the tangy feel of the air after a big electrical storm had passed.

Rupert, who was sitting back on his haunches, still straddling, shifted slightly. Ethan could only hope it was in arousal as he lifted one hand to stroke Rupert's thigh, while moving the other down from Ian's face to his neck. As he let his head drop slowly back to the floor, he pulled Ian down with him.

Ian shifted as needed to keep kissing Ethan as he moved, seeming content to do just that and reluctant to lose the contact. Meanwhile Rupert covered Ethan's hand with his own and moved it to lie over his cock, wordlessly assuring Ethan that it was most definitely arousal that he felt.

Ethan moaned; he couldn't help it. This was -- almost unexpectedly -- extremely hot. Hot and hard, judging by the bulge in Rupert's jeans that Ethan was now squeezing, or by his own erection that he couldn't stop himself rubbing upwards against Rupert's arse. And Ian... Ian lying warm along side him almost passively, and yet very much involved, very much included.

He hardened his tongue and darted it into Ian's mouth, finding the man's own and flirting with it, inviting it to come out and play. Ian's passivity vanished all at once, as his tongue plundered Ethan's mouth, one hand sliding behind Ethan's neck to hold him in place.

Moaning again, Ethan let his hand on Ian drop further down, moving over his mentor's back and the harsh wool of the jumper he was wearing, and lower still, so that he could slip under it and find flesh. Ian felt almost hot to the touch, and Ethan could feel the man's ribs through his skin, but there was muscle there too, hard and wiry.

In the meantime, he was rubbing Rupert's cock firmly with the heel of his hand and wanting things to go faster, further, but knowing that rushing things had always been his undoing.

Rupert's hands were wandering over Ethan's torso now, under his clothing, light touches with just a hint of magic. 'Are you going to touch him too?' Ethan sent, curious, even as his body reacted to every touch.

'I'm not sure he'd want me to,' Rupert replied, although Ethan could sense his husband was willing.

'It would be very intense for him,' Ethan agreed, his mental tone somewhat feverish. 'Christ, I'm so hard, Ripper. Can you feel me? I think you should come down here and kiss us both.'

Rupert willingly slid up Ethan's body, pausing to trail kisses over his throat.

Ethan moved his hand back up to Ian's neck, holding him there, and finally tore their mouths apart so that he could kiss Rupert. He didn't let that go on too long however, not wanting Ian to become restless, before he went back to kissing Ian. Ethan moved between the two pairs of lips, nipping, licking and kissing, and pulling the men closer and closer to each other.

Inevitably, it came to the point where Ian and Rupert were as close to each other as they were to Ethan, and it seemed as natural as breathing when they finally kissed.

It started slowly, tentatively, but quickly became heated. Ethan groaned deeply. Watching them, hearing the noises they made, feeling the patterns of their arousal, was driving him wild, but Rupert was heavy on top of him, limiting his movement, and Ian was pressed hard to his side. He was trapped below them, a thing both scintillatingly wonderful and frustrating at the same time.

Eventually, Rupert and Ian pulled back and just stared at each other over Ethan's prone body. Then Ian slowly began to smile, which pulled an answering, Ripperish grin out of Rupert.

'Tastes of me, doesn't he? Well, sort of.' Ethan sent, but aloud he said, "Now come, you two, don't neglect me."

"He's rather greedy," Rupert commented to Ian.

Ian nodded. "I have noticed that."

Ethan whined, writhing as much as his position would allow him to. "I don't think you understand just how erotic watching the two of you kiss really is. Feel free to do it again. A lot. But let me move. Please?"

Rupert looked down at him considering. "And what would you do if we let you move?"

"I don't know." Ethan smiled winningly at his captor. "Touch you maybe? Touch Ian? Touch myself?"

"All very intriguing suggestions," Rupert said. He glanced at Ian once again then rolled over onto his back taking Ethan with him.

"That's more like it." Ethan moved up onto his knees between Rupert's legs and smiled at Ian. "Give me your hand?" he asked, holding out his own. Ian raised a curious eyebrow, but did as he was bade. Slowly, giving both a chance to object, Ethan took Ian's hand and pressed it down over Rupert's trousered erection.

Rupert caught his breath, his eyes closing in pleasure, and Ian... well, Ethan wasn't sure he could read the expression on Ian's face, but at least it wasn't sad.

"Ripper, dear." Ethan more or less purred, for he was feeling like a cat caught in the brightest, most delicious sunlight. "Would you warm the room up a little perhaps? So we can wear fewer clothes?" As he spoke, he watched Ian's face. He moved his hand firmly over Ian's, encouraging the man to rub and squeeze the lump he cupped.

"If I can concentrate enough," Rupert said, the humour in his voice not hiding the arousal. "Which is proving quite ha-- difficult." The smallest of smiles crossed Ian's face in response to that, and Ethan felt him begin to touch Rupert more firmly.

"Oh. Oh yes." Ethan removed his hand from Ian's, confident the touch would now continue without him, and moved to be able to stroke Ian's upper body.

He kissed Ian briefly, but then allowed the man to concentrate on Rupert as he himself moved further down. Letting his hands wander where they would, inside of and out of clothes, moving firmly and fairly rapidly, Ethan set about an attempt to make Ian moan. As the room began to warm up, he pushed up Ian's jumper and shirt and bent to kiss softly in the hollow of his solar plexus.

It wasn't quite a groan, but the sharp gasp that action pulled from Ian was almost as good.

There was an obvious needy bulge in Ian's trousers, and Ethan, impatient as always, wanted to move straight there. He tried to delay a little longer however, licking and kissing around Ian's belly, getting to know the texture and taste of the man's skin. He looked up at one point, to check Ian was still pleasuring Rupert. Ian was, quite enthusiastically, and with an avid look on his face as he rubbed through the denim, but he hadn't progressed beyond that.

Was Ethan really in charge here? It was an odd thought. "Undo his trousers and take him out, Ian," he instructed gently. He felt a shiver go through Ian's body at the order, but his mentor obeyed, unfastening Rupert's trousers with hands that were mostly steady.

Twin moans echoed through the room as Ian wrapped his fingers around Rupert's cock, skin to skin. Glancing between their faces, Ethan could see the action was affecting Ian as strongly as it was Rupert.

Christ, Ethan was hard. He moaned also and briefly moved his hand down to touch himself through his trousers in a vain attempt to quell his demanding cock. "You two are... beautiful. You... you're the point where the land meets the sea."

Ian tore his gaze away from what his hand was doing to look up at Ethan, the turmoil and power of the storm in his eyes. He stared at Ethan for several eternal seconds then swooped in and ravaged Ethan's mouth.

The passion and urgent response he felt to the kiss made Ethan weak. He fell back, so that his head was supported on the top of Rupert's thigh, and Ian came with him. Right by their faces as the fierce kiss continued, Ian's hand was working Rupert's cock. Ethan shuddered and reached down to the front of Ian's trousers, no longer able to resist.

At the first touch, the kiss if anything grew even wilder, the kind that Ethan felt he could drown in. Ethan was losing himself in it until Rupert's hand fell to his shoulder and pulled him away, yanking him around into a position where he could claim Ethan's mouth in turn.

The kisses were stealing his oxygen and whatever small sense he had left. Rupert had inadvertently pulled him away from Ian's cock, just as he'd been starting to get to know it. In a brief respite while Rupert caught his breath, Ethan panted out, "Strip, Ian. Please. Need you, need all of us, naked." Then Rupert claimed his mouth again.

It seemed like just a moment later that he felt hands at his waist, undoing his belt and trousers. It appeared Ian was expanding the request to strip to more than just himself.

Even the movement of the fabric over Ethan's swollen cock, as Ian tugged his trousers and pants down and off, was enough to make him moan and writhe. If anyone were to touch him now, all would be lost. With a touch made clumsy by drugs and passion, Ethan tweaked his own patterns, making absolutely sure he couldn't come until he was ready.

He broke the kiss, pushing himself up as Rupert released him, and pulled off his tops. It was getting positively hot in this small room. Rupert followed suit, and Ian, it seemed, was already there. Ethan made an appreciative little growl, looking Ian over. The old man's wiry frame was trim and almost boyish, his long slender erection suiting his body perfectly.

"Want," Ethan muttered intensely, looking from his husband to his mentor and back again. Oh yes, he wanted. But where to first?

He was kneeling beside Rupert's hips and the proud cock was calling to him, but he wanted Ian too. Moaning, he said, "Ian, come here. Please. Share with me." And then he lay on his side half over Rupert's leg and raised up on his elbow with his face before the cock he loved so much.

He could feel Rupert's gaze on him, could feel his husband tense, holding his breath as he anticipated the next move, could see Rupert's muscles twitch as Ian shifted to mirror Ethan's position. Ethan reached his hand up and cupped Ian's face again, reading the expression there -- cautious but wanting. He stared into Ian's eyes for a few seconds then dropped his hand, curling his fingers around the base of Rupert's cock. "This is for both of us tonight. Share it with me."

And he licked wetly up the long shaft, kissing the tip, before backing off a short way and telling Ian with his eyes that he wanted him to mirror his action. Slowly, Ian moved to do just that, holding Ethan's gaze until he finally lowered his eyes to look at Rupert's cock as he touched it with his tongue.

Ethan felt Rupert jolt slightly in response and felt the arousal patterns of all three of them respond. He grunted and moved back in, curling his fingers around the back of Ian's neck and kissing him around the head of Rupert's cock.

"Oh god," Rupert groaned, arching up into the touch; when Ethan glanced up at him, he looked the very picture of wanton abandon.

Ian seemed to be encouraged by Rupert's reaction, and together they set about driving Rupert wild, moving between kissing each other fully and taking turns in going down on Rupert. The sight of Rupert's shaft disappearing inside Ian's mouth was almost more than Ethan could take, and each time it happened, he groaned and pressed himself against Rupert's shin.

'Ripper, Ripper...' he said, his thoughts wild and barely coherent. 'I can't stay the one in charge here. I'm too...' He made a frustrated noise and dived down Ian's body, pushing at his hips and forcing Ian to twist his lower half more flat to the floor. As he took Ian into his mouth, he sent, 'Please. Christ, please.'

He got the groan out of Ian he'd been trying for earlier, which, since the man still had Rupert's cock in his mouth, pulled an echoing groan from Rupert. 'I- I don't think anyone's in charge here,' Rupert replied, his mental voice shaky with the sensations running through them; their mental exchange carried a ghost of those feelings.

'I... well, you both kept doing what I told you...' Ian's cock felt so different from what Ethan was used to. He tried to concentrate, learn what would pull noises and movements from Ian and what didn't work for him, but he was finding it difficult. No one was touching him, and the frustration was becoming immense.

He felt Rupert trying to grab him. 'Come here,' he bade Ethan, even his mental voice a growl. 'Want to taste you.'

If Ethan had had any brain cells left to think with, he would have wondered at how their link seemed to be becoming as much empathic as telepathic these days. Soon there would never be any secrets from each other. Not that there really were now, only in the short time it took to tell things in.

All three of them wriggled and adjusted their positions until they formed a triangle on the floor. Then just as Ethan was taking Ian's length back into his mouth, he felt Rupert's lips touching his own cock. It was like a circuit being completed.

The touch was like a lightning strike through his nerves.

Whatever one of them did, it seemed to reverberate through all of them, each movement, each feeling echoing from one to the next until they were all moaning and trying not to writhe under the sensations. It wasn't exactly comfortable. The floor was hard and they were having to twist their bodies and hold their legs at odd angles. But Ethan didn't give a damn as this would more than likely never happen again, and he wanted to make the most of every moment.

He took Ian in deep, sucking him down into his throat and holding his breath while he swallowed around the shaft. Pulling back to gasp in air as Rupert did something particularly wonderful to him, Ethan then slipped his hand between Ian's legs to play over sensitive skin. Ethan was pretty sure his magic would not be a stimulus on its own for Ian; they were too similar in their nature, but he could and did pattern-tweak to intensify the feelings, dragging deep and muffled groans from his mentor.

Rupert's hands began to wander over Ethan as well, fingers trailing magic over his most sensitive areas, finally brushing over the opening to his body.

'Yes,' he sent urgently. 'Please.' He realised as he formed the words in his head that he was missing the talking, albeit rough and staggered, that normally went on between him and Rupert at times like this. Well, not times precisely like this as their mouths were rather full currently to hold a conversation of any kind. But Ian had hardly said a word so far, as if afraid of breaking a spell, and apart from exclamations of pleasure, Rupert hadn't been any better.

Ethan pulled back from Ian's length long enough to say, "This isn't a sodding library, you know," and then allowing magic to form around his finger as lubricant, he pushed inside Ian.

Ian made a sound that was halfway between a groan and Ethan's name. "God, yes," he muttered, his voice so transformed with his need that Ethan barely recognised it.

The heaviness of Ian's voice made Ethan thrust his hips inadvertently, and he heard Rupert gag a little. 'Sorry, dearheart, sorry. Oh, he's hot and tight, Ripper. You'd like it inside him...' Ethan paused, thinking about that as he began to finger-fuck Ian. 'I'd like to see that.'

Rupert's fingers tightened around Ethan's thigh in response to that; obviously the idea more than appealed. But his mental voice was hesitant when he replied. 'I'd like to do that for you to see. But only if Ian wants it.'

Ethan snorted, which sounded rather strange with his mouth filled with one of Ian's balls and his nose pressed against skin. 'Of course he bloody wants it.'

Rupert gave a bark of laughter, vibrating along the length of Ethan's cock. 'You mean you bloody want to see it.'

Ethan pulled back enough to look up at Ian, whimpering a bit at the sight of the enthusiastic blowjob Rupert was getting. As he very deliberately pushed a second finger inside Ian, he asked, "Ripper wants to shag you, old crow. You'd be up for that, wouldn't you?"

He felt the shiver that went through Ian at both the question and his actions. But he gave Ethan a cocky look as he looked down at his own body. "It would appear that I'm up for practically anything right now."

Ethan licked the glistening top of Ian's cock and grinned up at him. "So you are." And then because he couldn't help himself, he added, "If Lucy could see us now..."

Rupert choked back laughter while Ian chuckled. "Knowing the good Miss Harkness, she wouldn't bat an eyelid."

"She'd probably try to correct our techniques." He pushed a third finger into Ian and scissored them out, twisting. "How's my technique, mentor mine? Finding it lacking at all?"

Ian's eyelids fluttered as his head fell back in pleasure. "You're doing... just fine... m'boy."

Feeling smug, Ethan sucked on the head of Ian's cock as his fingers worked. 'Come over here, Rupert,' he sent. 'Come and watch, and then take over.'

Rupert took long enough to send one last powerful surge of magic through his fingers against Ethan's balls before pulling away and shifting around behind Ethan to watch. Shuddering from the magic, Ethan adjusted his position so that Rupert could get closer. Ian was flat on his back now and panting quietly. Ethan slowly pulled his fingers out. "Let him taste your magic, Ripper," he said softly.

Looking from Ethan to Ian, Rupert slowly reached out and brushed his fingers along Ian's cock in a light caress. There was obviously magic in his touch, judging by the way Ian cried out and writhed beneath Rupert's hand.

"Oh. Oh yes, Ripper, that's lovely. Keep going, please." Ethan bit his knuckle while he watched, for the moment content not to take an active role.

Rupert glanced at him with a teasing smile. "You plan on playing director?" he asked even as he took a firmer grip on Ian's cock, making the older man whimper and moan.

"What would you rather I do?" Ethan asked distractedly as he watched Rupert's hand, but then he focused on what they were saying and looked around to meet Rupert's gaze. "You could direct *me*. Tell me to do... interesting things."

"I could..." Rupert started consideringly, only to be interrupted by Ian.

"Or you could move closer, and I could do interesting things to you." Ian's voice was thick and almost raw with passion. Ethan glanced at Rupert, and seeing nothing but love and lust in his husband's eyes, he crawled up beside Ian's body to kneel at his head.

"How do you want me? I'm yours to position."

"Simple is best," Ian said reaching out to guide Ethan's movements into straddling his head. "Makes it less likely this old man will strain his neck."

Ethan let himself be manoeuvred, unsure exactly what Ian wanted. He kept himself a little above Ian, not wanting to smother him. Ian's hands slid from Ethan's hips to his buttocks, and then fingers slipped between his buttocks, separating them. Ethan looked across to Rupert, who was still fisting Ian's cock, and gasped as he first felt the tongue slide over him. "Christ..." This was something he did to Rupert often, but he hadn't had it done to him for a sodding age. "Oh, Ian..." He fell forward onto his hands and panted.

He felt Rupert touch his face and glanced up to see his husband watching him hungrily. "You wanted to see," he reminded Ethan, shifting Ian's and his positions, his intent obvious.

Ethan groaned. He was long enough in his body that he was going to get a front-of-stage view of what was about to happen. He tightened his controls over his own arousal again, not trusting his ability to control anything at all once Rupert started.

Even if he'd been struck deaf and blind, Ethan would have known the moment that Rupert slid into Ian's body; the surge in the patterns swirling around the three of them was unmistakable. And it was more than just simple arousal -- there was also an overwhelming sense of rightness, of puzzle pieces clicking together. Chaos and Order, Ethan realised; it held as true for Rupert with Ian as it did for Rupert with him.

And of course, he was neither blind nor deaf, and the sight of Rupert's cock slipping slowly in and out of Ian's body was like the very best porn. Well, considerably better actually. It was the porn of his dreams. Ian's tongue had stopped licking, unsurprisingly, and Ethan felt fingers digging hard into his hips as if Ian was holding on for dear life.

He glanced up to Rupert's face, reached out to cup it. "Oh, Ripper. So very beautiful..."

Rupert held his gaze for long seconds, then slid a hand behind Ethan's head and pulled him to him, kissing him desperately.

At some point into the consuming kiss, Ethan felt Ian's hands relax, and then he was being moved, repositioned slightly. It became clear why as he felt a mouth on his cock again. He groaned happily into Rupert's mouth.

'I want to see your mouth on him,' Rupert sent, still licking and nipping at Ethan's lips.

Nodding slightly, Ethan dropped to lean on his elbows, whimpering slightly as the movement caused his cock to scrape Ian's teeth. This was no time for hesitancy or foreplay. He took Ian's shaft deep into his mouth and began to work it.

Details began to get fuzzy then as Ethan -- as all of them -- got lost in each other and the pleasure that swelled and built between them. Ian was as much a part of it as Ethan and Rupert, more so really, for once the centre that everything was focused on.

Ethan almost felt as if Ian and he were a single entity being fucked by Rupert, and yet at the same time, he was very aware of Ian below him, writhing and moaning, allowing his mouth to be gently -- and sometimes not so gently -- fucked by Ethan. Ian was full of them, of Rupert and Ethan, he was the conduit between them and sharing everything they had to give. For tonight, at least.

He quickly banished that last thought; what would happen later could wait until later. Right now, there was the joy of all being together like this, and oh Christ, the incredible patterns of their joined climaxes rushing down on them.

Ethan felt Rupert's belly pressing against his head as his husband thrust fiercely into Ian, and strangely, it was that sensation that was most clear to him as the tidal wave of pleasure hit, lifted them all up, and carried them screaming, their bodies helpless to resist the primal force.

There was a time of timelessness, if such a paradox could exist, and when Ethan came back to himself, they were all lying sprawled on the floor and each other. An overwhelming feeling of smug satedness seemed to permeate the entire room.

He untangled his limbs and rolled onto his back, still feeling the occasional aftershock. "I think," he said slowly, savouring the words, "that you'll both be forced to agree now that I'm a genius."

"No," Rupert replied just as slowly, reaching out and sliding his fingers languorously through Ethan's hair. "Just uninhibited."

"Rather a duty, that. Wouldn't you say, Ian? Breaking through boundaries, going where whim takes us, is that not our sacred duty?"

Ian stretched slowly and languidly. "I'm fairly certain that that was not written in any prophecy," he said, but then added in a warmer voice, "but I am honoured you sought to include me."

"You're one of us. Of what we are." It seemed very simple to Ethan at that moment.

"This was a bit more of a connection than I ever considered there being," Ian said with dry humour.

Ethan wasn't sure he entirely believed that. He suspected quite strongly that Ian had at least fantasised at times, as Ethan knew he himself would have done, and while Ian and he were not twins, they were, well, brothers in a sense.

"No regrets?" he asked the room softly.

"No regrets," Rupert said solemnly, reaching for both men's hands.

He felt a wash of love for Rupert almost as strong as the orgasm that had so recently taken him. Stronger in the ways that counted. He stared into the green-grey eyes for several long seconds before turning to Ian. "No regrets, old crow?"

Ian smiled at him and his eyes were freer of shadows than Ethan had seen in a long time. "No regrets. Quite the contrary."

Ethan felt his face fill with a glow of something pretty damn close to joy. He closed his eyes, using pattern sense to reach out and hold Ian's hand, completing the circuit again. With a deep sigh that turned into something suspiciously like a yawn, he said,

"Been a good evening, all in all."

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