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Danny — my heart clenches. He looks breathtaking. All large, awed eyes and glossy, parted lips. He looks utterly submissive, completely at Rory’s mercy, a lamb to be slaughtered. And Rory seems to have no interest in switching things up: he continues to touch Danny’s cock like a compulsion, like he’s checking if its overwhelming length really is attached to Danny.
“How someone withthis,” Rory mutters, intrigued, “should act so much likeyou…” He gives a graceful little shrug, still mystified, and given the amount of interest Rory has shown in this, I get the impression that Rory may have submittedhimselfto anyone with a cock like Danny’s — to anyone, that is, except Danny.
Subtly, Danny begins to arch into Rory’s exploring grasp. Rory pretends not to notice, though I note his fist changing angles, sliding deliberately over the head of Danny’s cock as if to provoke his hips into snapping upward, chasing friction with increased urgency.
“You’re hard,” Rory surmises, as though this is his conclusion from spending the last few moments tenderly stroking Danny’s cock. “I am, too. So I’m going to cut a deal with you.”
Sweat is beading at Danny’s temples. Rory’s hand leaves his cock to palm his own length, and Danny’s eyes swing to it like a magnet. “I propose — and I know this is wild for someone like you — that we come together. You get off, I get off, everyone’s happy. Especially the saint.”
It takes a while for my mind to catch up with Rory’s words. It got distracted and wandered off somewhere around “we come together.” Belatedly, I stare at Rory’s face instead of the hardness pressing up against his palm, wondering why I’ve been invoked.
Rory flicks his gaze to me with that knowing half-smile again. “Don’t try to lie. You want this as much as D-boy does.”
I don’t try. There is no lie. I want it as badly as Danny does.
“You mean we…?” Danny licks his lips. Language seems to have died on his tongue. “Together?How?”
“Like this,” Rory says, and he draws his cock into his palm, twists Danny’s hips to the side, and scoopshiscock into his palm, too.
My thoughts suddenly feel like they’re on ice. Everything skitters and crashes. I stare in open-mouthed desire at the two of them, at Rory’s calm gray eyes and the fist that’s slowly palming two cocks at the same time. The closeness of the two of them — freckled skin against luminously pale skin, nestled beside the lush umber of Luke’s lean body. It’s overwhelming. Scenes devolve into images again. Twinned gleaming cockheads, peach-pink and pushed together. Danny curving wantonly into Rory like he can’t help himself, can’t hold himself upright. The furious workings of Rory’s throat as he tries to keep himself under control, tries to fool himself that he still has any.
“This isn’t,” Danny says, mouth stumbling over syllables. “You aren’t gonna —leaveme. Are you?” It’s a small, desperate plea spoken between the catch in this throat. “I need… Don’t go back.” He breathes in Rory’s skin, of air and forests and ink. “Like before.Don’t. I need—”
Rory’s other palm slides up to Danny’s mouth, fixing it into place, and Danny lets out a feeble groan, allowing the weight of it to crush him into silence. “Quiet,” he breathes, and Danny sags against him, his cock twitching and releasing a hot stream of precum.
Tension strains at Rory’s face. He holds both their cocks inside a flying, viselike fist, and Danny seems content with him shuttling his hand up and down their lengths at evermore severe speeds. The island fills with tight groans and moaning, with the sense of a sudden descent into complete carnality. Danny’s face slips past Rory’s silencing palm, sloping into the crook of Rory’s bowed head, his lips a safe distance away, knowing better than to let his mouth linger anywhere close to his skin. Their hair, however, tangles freely, light against dark, growing soaked with every heat-possessed moment.
Inside me, Luke’s cock stirs with renewed interest at the harsh sounds of breathing and the slick, watery slaps of cocks reaching their crescendos. Finlay’s arms wind tight around me, his upper teeth leaving imprints against the ball of my shoulder.
Unlike previous trysts, there is no warning. There is no indication that they’re both about to rupture. Instead, Rory drives them to the edge — and careens straight off it. White ropes shoot forth from Rory’s cock, arcing into the sky. Not a second later, with a powerful, roiling groan, Danny shudders, and his seed pulses fountain-like across Rory’s tightly gripping fist.
Danny lies back, crashing onto Rory’s chest, breathless and drained. He pants heavily against Rory’s shoulder, his lips forming words that remain unsaid.
Looking absorbed by the amount of cum that keeps spurting across his knuckles, Rory keeps moving his hand, using each fresh wave as a lubricant until Danny, slumped and destroyed, eventually finds the will to jerk himself away, oversensitive. Rory holds back a biting laugh.
Unexpectedly, Rory presses a kiss to Danny’s temple that could almost be deemed tender. “Good boy,” he whispers, his voice lilting with a kind of cruel amusement, his knuckles coating Danny’s stomach with his seed.
Danny’s stomach twitches, ticklish, and his head collides with the ground. “Fuck.” He takes his hand and wipes his face, looking shattered. He doesn’t move away, turning into Luke’s side with a sleepy flutter of his eyes.
All at once, I need warmth and hugs. I lean forward, Luke still determinedly inside me, and let his arms surround me. Finlay lies on the other side of Luke, and for a moment, the two of them do nothing other than watch each other, open-faced and unlocked, a mutual sense of understanding passing wordlessly between them.
I never meant to hurt you.
I’ll be there to pick up the pieces.
I’m sorry. A thousand times, I’m sorry.
It’s buried. After tonight, it has to be. Ill feelings can’t exist after a night like tonight, and from the way Luke’s muscled arms hold me secure on top of his chest, I know in my heart that this is true.
Tonight had been a way for Luke to escape — and instead we all did. We all took the opportunity to escape alongside Luke into a world of deep, abiding pleasure we’d never thought possible. As I glance at the side, to Rory’s chin resting on Danny’s shoulder, blond hair mingling with brown, I think to myself how crazy it is that one night should change people so completely.
Above us, the trees conspire in whispers. Luke’s large palm strokes my hair soothingly, his fingers winding strands in a clockwork motion, his breathing even and deep. Finlay’s hand settles on the curve of my waist, warm and welcome.
It’s November. It’s November and it isn’t cold.
Above us, the sky shines with rain that never falls.
We sleep, tangled up together in a world of mystery, protected and at peace and finally secure.
