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"Shhh," Lyle hissed, probably too loudly. Hallelujah didn't seem to care though, just going on laughing, tilting his head back and--Lyle pressed his hand over Hallelujah's mouth, bearing down and hoping that it would muffle the sound better than he was hiding how much this turned him on.
Allelujah, in the next bed, stirred in his sleep. At least that made Hallelujah's drunken laughter stop. For a moment, anyway, because barely two seconds later Hallelujah finally seemed to notice that Lyle's hand wasn't the only thing pressing down against Hallelujah and Hallelujah pressed right back. Lyle bit down on his lip, hard, and moved his hand to brace himself better on the bed.
"Your brother is trying to sleep," he whispered, quietly as possible.
"My dearest sibling isn't sleeping at all," Hallelujah shot back, in a stage whisper.
Suppressing the urge to smack him--Hallelujah would just enjoy it, and probably loudly ask for more--Lyle ground his hips down against Hallelujah's instead. To his drunken sensibilities, this was a much better way to shut Hallelujah up.