River gave him warning before spilling himself into Ezekiel. He enjoyed the feeling of him pulsing into him, pleasure thrumming through his body as he waited for River to get the most out of the experience he could and so that Zeke could take his own. River helped to shift them around, opening himself to Ezekiel so that he could replace his fingers for something that would feel better to the slighter boy. They'd both suffer through whatever over-sensitivy resulted directly after depending on who had gone first. Sometimes they enjoyed it, sometimes they'd grit their teeth. It was dependent on how River was feeling if Zeke would drag things out or finish quickly.<br/><br/>He coated his aching erection with oil but didn't hesitate to slip it into River. He didn't ask for forgiveness either but perhaps might after. Sometimes Zeke felt guilty. Sometimes he felt angry that the one good thing in his life was something he really shouldn't have. He let out a low noise of pleasure as he moved within his lover but it turned out he didn't have the patience to hold out for long even if River was in the mood for it. Same as River had done to him, he pressed deep into him to release it, tension going out of his form directly after.<br/><br/>There was always that blessed time right after where nothing really seemed to matter. They would relax, tangled in one another's arms, feeling as if it was enough. So long as they had each other and moments of closeness to share.<br/><br/>“River,” Zeke sighed, happy and at peace, kissing the other boy open-mouthed but slow. They were messy, covered with sweat and leaking of one another and oil. He used a pair of underwear to clean them both up before shoving it under the bed, hiding it. He didn't want to leave so much mess on the blankets, not knowing what the punishment might be for soiling them completely. Instead of getting beneath them he pulled and edge partially over them, resting his face against River's neck, arms wrapped tight around him. He drifted slightly, unable to fully fall asleep in the unusual environment.<br/><br/>A brief knock roused him and then the sound of the door opening, at least as much as it could. He heard a man's voice say something in confusion, and then the door being jostled around in an attempt to get it open. Zeke froze, his back towards the door, the blankets laid over their hips. The man tried pushing next, and then he pressed his face into peer inside, trying to figure out what was blocking it and most of all<i>why</i>. He could make out two forms in the bed, wrapped up in blankets and what appeared to be one another.<br/><br/>“Cassandra!” he was shouting, and then his fist were pounding. “Ezekiel, you need to open this door!”<br/><br/>Zeke would not. He sounded angry, and he wasn't entirely sure what he was angry over. Did he know what they'd stolen? What they'd done?<br/><br/>“Shh,” Ezekiel told River, the tension returning, though he was unwilling to move at all. They were trapped where they were, but it seemed that the angry man was unable to get to them as well. He didn't know what to do.<br/><br/>“You left them on their own upstairs? Ezekiel, with some strange kid you don't know? Do you have any idea what they're doing in there? In our home? They're in bed together!” the man was saying.<br/><br/>“They laid together in the car on the way home. They're frightened, Randall!” Cassandra answered back as if that was explanation enough. She didn't want to believe they'd been doing anything inappropriate at all. “Stop yelling, and stop pounding on the door.” There was another long moment of more hushed whispers, and then Cassandra was speaking.<br/><br/>“Why did you two block the door?” she questioned softly, a hand on the knob as she stood in front of her husband.