Don't... 04 Backlash (12 page)

“I can’t go
naked, Gray. Please don’t make me.”

“I know,” he
said, understanding how hearing that would have stung Jack. About
as much as Jack not being able to get naked had stung Jan a few
moments ago. “Swimming shorts. Keep them on.”

The
question of
why
was
there, but Jan found Jack again, and keeping that soft focus, he
undid the tie to his robe and slipped it off his shoulders. It
found a place next to Jack’s T-shirt.

Jack’s quiet
ease of breath came as Gray made sure no clothes were near them.
Jack had a clear view of Jan’s semi straining against the wetness
of his swimming shorts. For all of the slim frame Jan offered, the
soft core and vanilla taste, the heat between his thighs was
impressive even as just semi-aroused.

Gray leaned in
and brushed his cheek against Jan’s as Jan hugged his stomach. On
contact, he closed his eyes, knowing the guts that it had taken for
him to stand before Jack like this. “Somewhere along the line you
fell in love with him,” he said softly in Jan’s ear.

Jan found
Gray’s gaze.

“Thank you,”
Gray added quietly, briefly kissing at his cheek. When he pulled
away, the confusion was there on just who that was meant for. He
offered Jan a smile before stepping back and holding up one of
three bottles he had with him.

“Massage?” Jack
had read the labels first and Gray rolled his gaze hearing Jack rub
his hands together. “Yes... fucking... please.”

Gray unscrewed
the lid and went back by Jack. Jack eyed the bottle of oil, no
doubt listing the ingredients and dissecting them to OCD extremes.
“Floral-based,” said Gray as he tipped some on his hands from one
of the large bottles.

“You need three
huge bottles for that?”

Gray said
nothing as he started on Jack’s shoulders and neck first, loving
the sheen it gave to his supple skin. Next came Jack’s back, then
chest and the contours of his abs that had its own echo of the
Welsh Valleys: streamlines and dips, where the body would, and had,
come away wasted and weary from the trek.

“Lower, lower,”
said Jack, looking down and waggling his eyebrows as Gray knelt.
“Yeah, baby, just left a bit, right. Oh yeah. Right... down...
there.”

Gray started on
his inner thighs, making sure he rubbed pretty much every available
inch, moving as close to his groin in the process. Despite the heat
in Jack’s voice, he was still soft. Head and heart were there, but
there still seemed that physical slip, that fall. Concerned, Gray
eased to his feet. “You okay, stunner?”

That smile
faltered, just slightly.

“Do you need
this to stop?”

Jack
flicked a look at Jan and something else eased into his eyes. “No,”
he said in a hushed tone, “whatever
this
shit is?” he added back to Gray. “Because you know usually
we discuss a suh-suh-scene beforehand.”

Wasn’t a good
sign. Gray picked up on the slight stutter. “Not a scene, Jack.” He
offered a smile. “You know anything to do with D/s is always
discussed prior to a scene, and we haven’t done that. It’ll come.
Just not yet. This... this is just a massage. My way.”

Jack smiled; it
even reached his eyes. “Oh well, then. Continue.”

Gray left him
there thinking, and shifted back to Jan. Waiting for a minute to
get the nod, Gray then started on Jan’s shoulders, pressing against
him from behind, and carried on paying attention to the paler
twists and soft turns to Jan’s slender body. He’d lost life between
the thighs, too, but it had been expected.

“’Kay,” said
Jack as Gray eased to his feet. “Now what, Boss?”

Gray took the
other two big bottles off the floor, opened them up, then tipped
one over and around Jack’s feet. He did the same with one over
Jan’s feet. Then, just for good measure, he took a step back and
made sure he circled them both with the last of all three
bottles.

“All done,”
said Gray. “Night, lads.”

“Huh?” said
Jack, roughly about the same time Jan did too. “What the—”

Gray turned
away, and—“Fuck,” cried Jan. Gray had caught Jan’s step away from
Jack to follow him, and Jack instantly grabbed at Jan’s arm as Jan
nearly slipped on the oil.

“Gray,” snarled
Jack, not sounding happy, “this isn’t funny. It’s bloody
dangerous.”

“
You
forgot the
fucking
in
there,” said Gray, moving over to the light switch and flicking it
off. It left the lights of the fountain outside sending soft
ripples of blue, red, and greens into the hall, and Jack again
crying out as he tried to save Jan from landing on his
ass.

But the oil on
Jan’s arms made it impossible to grip, and left Jack landing flat
on his back. It was the whole reason behind why Gray didn’t leave,
just watched. Because the moment Jack fell—he swept Jan’s legs from
underneath him, taking him down too, and Gray knew this was where
things could get very... very... interesting.

In the darkness
of Gray’s hall, the semidarkness suddenly came alive as Jack took
Jan down: scrambling from slicked-up feet and hands, followed by
cries and startled shouts of anger and grunts as body slumped into
body. But as legs and arms tangled, fighting to grip onto something
to get them back on their feet, snorts of laughter snuck in with
the disgruntled cries.

“Fuckssake,
Jan, just....” More scrumming on the floor, the slip of slicked-up
feet and—“Feet... put them there, hands... here.”

Gray tried hard
not to laugh. Jan was doing a very bad impression of Bambi, hands
either side of Jack’s head, legs spread open, muscles quivering and
looking very unsteady as he tried to push up and—

“Fuck.” Jack
huffed as Jan crashed back down. “Careful, fucking careful,”
laughed Jack, coming in to hold him but also closing his legs and
protecting his own crown jewels. “You’ll hurt yourself and my
pole-dancing equipment, soft lad.”

“’Kay, ’kay, I
got this,” breathed Jan between chuckles. “Hold on, hold on.” He
brought a knee up between Jack’s legs.

“Careful—careful....”

“Lift your
fucking leg up, Jack.” Jan was now on his elbows, going full doggy
position over Jack, with his knees pulled up, but every time he
moved, the oil on the floor played devil and he’d nearly slip.

“What good will
my fucking leg do there?”

“I can sit on
it,” said Jan.

“Oooh.” A
snort. “Wanna sit on my lap now, boy...”

“Fucking pack
it in,” choked Jan. And as Jack tried to bring his leg up, just dig
his heels in, he was left slipping and scrambling at the floor to
gain a foothold, getting nowhere very fast.

Jan dipped his
head, doubling with laughter.

“Not funny,”
said Jack, and the hurt was there in his voice as he still tried to
find a footing.

“You look like
a hamster on a wheel,” snorted Jan, and Jack tried it again only to
make Jan worse and leave Jack choking out, “Oh come the fuck
on.”

“Aww. It’s your
age, Jack,” said Jan. “Comes to us all, old bones and all. But I
heard Viagra works a treat.”

“Fucking...”
Jack tried to come back with something, but settled for a hard and
fast play fighting, with light jabs to the ribs. They were suddenly
just a mass of arms, legs, and snorts of laughter again as Jan
tried to get away and dodge Jack’s assault.

Then something
seemed to change, fall quiet for just a second. Jan was flat on top
of Jack and both watched each other. Breathing shifted into
something heavier, more so on Jan’s part, his body pulling less and
less away from Jack’s, more hurried to join back, dip his hips a
little more, let oil mix with oil, body slip against body.

“Christ.” Jack
stretched, back arching slightly, breath hitching; then he seemed
to ground himself very quickly in what was happening to Jan. Jack’s
hand came up to cup the back of Jan’s neck, the other on Jan’s
back, encouraging the dip of hip, the slide of body on body as
Jan’s heavy breath steamed the darkness of the hall. Jan seemed to
pull away, now looking down on Jack again, and Jack’s hand slipped
from cupping the back of his head, now resting on Jan’s jaw.

It was there,
probably for the first time in months, that look between them; how
exhausted they were with the hide and seek, how they needed to get
back within the comfort of just looking. Of looking and finally
being allowed to look without fear of what came out of the shadows,
or out from behind the cover of a hurt lover’s gaze.

Lips met after
only a moment, and it was such a chaste, deep, and personal kiss
that Gray wished he wasn’t here: it was a kiss that needed privacy,
that needed time alone in the darkness to heal rifts and spark
better memories, but then Jan dipped his head into the curve of
Jack’s neck, now biting, hands gripping under and at Jack’s
shoulders as he held on, just cried out the heat his rutting body
screamed into the darkness.

“C’mon, baby,”
whispered Jack, hand now on Jan’s ass and encouraging the contact,
the heat as he lifted his hips up to meet it. “Fucking c’mon. It’s
okay.”

Jan cried out,
and Gray smiled into the darkness hearing Jack’s name fall from
Jan’s lips. Vince could compile a list of cock and ball torture to
stop that call of name, but he couldn’t touch that natural instinct
between two lovers who were missing each other. Jack didn’t follow
Jan’s release; he knew this was for Jan and he held on to him, not
letting him go, and fully focused on what tore through him. There’d
been no penetration, no slip of cock against cock; Jack still wore
his boxers, Jan his swimming shorts, but tonight, this, it hadn’t
been about penetration, it hadn’t been about sex. It had been about
two lovers learning that it was okay to fall and scramble around
holding on to each other.

Eventually,
Jack’s chuckle drifted over after Jan’s quiet search to finish Jack
off was met with nothing but gentle kisses. “Still can’t stand up
over here, Gray.” Breathing was heavier, thick with fading lust.
The light came on and Jack and Jan both hid in each other against
the onslaught.

“Not my
problem,” said Gray, going to where a punch bag hung from the
ceiling. Seeing them there, just in the come-down of those first
tentative touches together, he needed focus away from the floor, so
badly.

“Not—” More
shuffling about; bodies slumping back on the floor. “Still not
fucking funny, Gray.”

Gray kicked the
punch bag, hard, not listening to the sounds, blinding himself
completely to the sights, let alone the scents, playing around the
hall. At some point Jack and Jan managed to stand, and Gray carried
on his kill of the punch bag as Jan said something over to him,
then headed for the shower, Jack lingering to clean up the floor.
It took Jack a while, more than long enough to force Gray to break
a sweat, and as Jack came over, wiping away the excess oil and
looking every part ready for scurrying into the shower and crying
unclean, Gray caught the punch bag and rested his head against it,
trying to ignore the state between sated but not yet fucked look
going on with Jan and Jack.

Jack came in
close, pressing into Gray from behind. A touch found his hip, then
brushed down, tracing the fine cut of trouser and all to come to
rest at a place where Jack really shouldn’t be touching. Giving a
nibble at the back of Gray’s neck, Jack was then in his face,
easing him around as he was backed up to the wall. A long lick came
at Gray’s throat, collarbone to jaw, and nips were given. Jack
slipped the belt buckle aside, then was undoing the clasp to Gray’s
suit trousers and easing down the zip.

Jack was still
hard, Gray there with him now as hips fought for a connection after
Jack tugged Gray free. “So close,” mumbled Jack. “You’re getting so
close to wanting to fuck with us, mukka.” And he glanced down as he
pulled his own cock free then wrapped a fist around both. It took
Gray’s breath, feeling the heat and length of Jack’s cock against
his. Then there was Jack’s hand....

Gray eased his
upper body back onto the wall, then cupped Jack’s neck as he
widened his stance. He took control of the pace, keeping Jack’s
hand still as he covered Jack’s touch with his own. He needed the
release now, and his hard fuck into Jack’s hand was that release
point.

“Fuck...” Jack
still looked down, that frown to his face as he shifted Gray’s
shirt aside to get a better look at the play. Gray hadn’t wanted
him to move just yet, loving the denial of full play to Jack’s cock
and the need to shift and move against Gray. But as he pulled Jack
in for a kiss, only living with the memories of body against body
hit hard....

Gray bit at
Jack’s lip as he came, needing something to stop his own cry but
fuel the one Jack called out into his kiss.

“Fuck... fuck,”
breathed Jack on his own release. For a moment Gray was still lost
to causing friction between their cocks, his grip on Jack’s ass
making sure he stayed close. He bit at Jack’s neck, shivering
against the fading release, and Jack came in, arms going around
Gray’s waist, hips still moving and shifting so cocks shared a mix
of come and perspiration on damp abs.

“Fuck.” That
last one came from Gray.

“Oh yeah,” said
Jack, hands gripping at Gray’s ass. “You’re so close to fucking me
on a full playing field, mukka.” He got a kiss to his neck that
only stirred more shivers, and Gray sighed a smile into Jack’s
throat. He loved the taste of salt and hint of oil that he found
there on the toned curve.

“You’re not
helping my hard image here, Jack.”

“Yes, I am,”
came the soft reply. “You need seducing”—a kiss at his
jaw—“loving—fucking....”