DUST TO DUST
It has been three days. Lilly is still dead. Beaver's head is buried in his lap.
Logan's not really sure how any of these events happened.
It was her funeral today; friends and family and the whole of fucking Neptune lining up the streets to say goodbye to Miss Lillian Kane. Like those fuckers knew her, thinks Logan as he pulls on the Beav's hair. The mouth wrapped around his dick is hot (but its lips are cool) and needy; bobbing at an excited pace so wildly different from Lilly's.
Duncan wouldn't talk to him at the funeral; wouldn't talk to anyone. He didn't even appear to be registering what was going on until the very end when his parents bundled him into a limo; Logan tried to say something, but Duncan wouldn't respond. Logan was too drunk to push the fact.
"Harder," Logan demands, even though Beaver is already sucking harder and faster than Logan should need. He wants to push this boy's limits; to break him; and he groans aloud when Beaver's lips fix firmer on his cock, sucking him like a fucking lollipop. Logan's to drunk to care about being nice or whatever.
It had been a closed casket funeral; no-one wanted to see the mess some bastard head made of pretty Lilly's head. Logan had (he wanted to be actually able to say goodbye) but he wasn't in charge of the funeral. He probably new her better than the Kanes did, but no-one cared about who actually knew Lilly.
Veronica had stood with him, tears sliding over her cheeks steadily. She looked so fragile. She slipped her hand into Logan's; it felt like touching a live flame, but he found her grip inescapable (even though he knows she wasn't holding that hard). She had said she was sorry. He was just drunk enough not to punch her for it. People keep saying they're sorry; like that helps in the slightest.
Beaver didn't say he was sorry – or say much of anything – which is probably why he was the one Logan dragged home and onto his knees in the Echolls poolroom. Maybe. He doesn't remember well now.
Beaver is digging his fingernails into Logan's hips; Logan grimaces at, but welcomes, the pain. Logan knows that the Beav is trying to stop him bucking so much, so he can't make Cassidy gag; Logan should feel guilty but Cassidy can't stop him and he's pretty sure no-one can.
He's thrusting and gripping Beaver's hair; crying out and moaning so loudly he's pretty sure the Martians can hear him; let alone his family. Like they'd matter. This is Neptune and appearance is reality; one 09er getting sucked off by another (male) 09er in the aftermath of the first 09er's girlfriend's death? That wouldn't do at all in the public eye. So everyone'd ignore it.
Beaver's mouth is making wet sounds around Logan's cock; he gives these tiny little whimpers and moans every once in a while. Logan vaguely thinks if anyone would be wondering where the Beav is; then again, knowing the Casablancas family, Logan thinks they'd be grateful for Cassidy to disappear.
"Christ, Beav," Logan says, moving one hand from Beaver's hair and digging it into his left shoulder blade, leaving harsh red marks that will probably bruise. Beaver gasps around Logan's cock; speeding up his sucking until Logan is left writhing and moaning helplessly; digging nails into Beaver's skin and scalp; stiff and about to come.
"Holy- Fuck!" Logan yells as finally he comes in Beaver's mouth; watching his friend swallow it without a second thought. Logan shudders as Cassidy pulls away, collapsing back on to the bed. Now he hasn't got his dick down an eager, willing throat; the pain returns, almost worse for having been away. She is still gone.
Beaver nervously sits on the bed with him, fidgeting with the covers. Logan sits up groggily, and fishes for the bottle of vodka on the bedside table. He finds it, and holds it to the Beav's lips.
Logan pours, and Cassidy swallows as easily as he swallowed Logan's come a few moments before. Logan concentrates on the bobbing of Beav's adam's apple; his body accepting Logan's offering. If he can focus on insignificant detail, it can block out at least a little of the constant mental barrage of: Lilly dead Lilly dead Lilly dead.
Logan is so intent of focusing on the detail; he misses it for a few seconds when Beaver has started to choke. His lips retract from the vodka, which is now spilling over his chin, neck, collarbone, shirt.
Logan laughs, and pulls the bottle away. "Sorry," he says, grateful it's the first time they've shared that word tonight. Beaver just looks annoyed with him.
In a reckless moment, Logan leans forward and starts to fucking lick the vodka off the skin of Cassidy's neck. The younger boy gasps and grasps Logan's hair for a second; he thinks Beaver is going to pull him closer and encourage Logan to do whatever he likes with the Beav's body (he's not really sure what that is).
But then Cassidy is pushing him away; shoving him by the hair to the other side of the bed. Cassidy draws his knees up to under his chin and his bottom lip starts to quiver; Logan is too wasted to be worried.
"Cocktease," he grumbles, and Cassidy rolls his eyes.
"I just let you fuck my mouth 'til it was fucking raw. You don't get to say that," Beaver says, and Logan just shrugs. Cassidy stands and pulls on his clothing, trying to make himself look... not-just-finished-sucking-cock. Logan doesn't think it'll work, but it'll work well enough for everyone to pretend it's working.
"Don't you want me to-?" Logan half-asks, not sure what specifically he is suggesting. Generally, it's along the lines of "make Beaver come." Cassidy shakes his head.
"I'm fine," he says.
"Well now I'm just insulted," Logan bites back. Cassidy shrugs and chuckles, then he leaves.
Logan curls back up on the bed, trying not to cry. He thinks he hears Lilly's girlish laughter for a second, but that's because he's drunk and she is still dead.