Third One

by Roe Horvat

  Marcus noticed Luke’s eyes snap up to Liam’s. The heat in them made Luke’s face light up. He looked exquisite.

  Somewhere between the second and third coffee, Marcus formed a plan in his head. It was a weak and flimsy one, but he had Liam on his side, which meant superpowers of major proportions. He needed to keep Luke occupied, and he needed to keep him with them.

  If Luke had too much time to ponder, he would doubt and question. Rightfully so because Marcus had hurt him enough. Now Marcus had the opportunity to do everything in his power to make Luke blissfully happy every minute of the day, every day of the week. They were finally together, and Liam was obviously falling for Luke—Marcus saw those glances and gentle touches. They would wrap Luke in their love, and he’d be happy, and he’d stay. Until he realized he was loved and needed, he wasn’t allowed to overthink. Damn, Marcus should talk to Liam. But when? He would have to rely on Liam being observant.

  “It’s supposed to be the hottest day of the year so far,” Marcus said, flashing his gaze to Liam and then back to Luke. Luke smeared the chocolate spread on his toast with such desire in his features it almost equaled the look he gave them when they were on his knees in front of him. Marcus had to smile at the thought. “Luke, you want privacy with the jar?”

  “No,” Luke replied, completely serious. “If anything, the jar is coming to bed with us.”

  Liam burst out laughing, his deep voice booming through the house.

  Faking innocence, Luke kept spreading the chocolate on his toast with surgical precision. He evened the layer out, leaving nothing uncovered.

  “Anyway…” Marcus continued. “The forecast says twenty-six degrees, only light breeze. Swimming?”

  “We can take Priscilla out,” Liam suggested.

  “Priscilla?” Luke mumbled the question around his toast.

  “A Nimbus,” Liam clarified. Luke’s face stayed equally blank.

  “What’s a Nimbus?”

  “A boat,” Marcus said. “It’s a boat.”

  Luke snorted and shook his head. “Do all rich gays in Gothenburg own a boat?” he asked.

  Liam smirked. “No. The straights do too.”

  “C’mon. It’ll be wonderful,” Marcus prompted, squeezing Luke’s shoulder.

  “Where is it?” Luke asked.

  “She’s in the marina here in Näset,” Liam said. “I only need to read through one report, answer a couple of emails, and we can go.”

  Of course. Marcus almost forgot. He noticed Luke’s worried glance his way. Did Luke expect him to be annoyed? Marcus had realized a long time ago how Liam had managed to get as far as he had. Through twenty years of hard work. Ten, even twelve hours a day, always available on call, Saturdays and Sundays at the office, business trips, stress-induced headaches, and running. Liam ran a lot. He needed to clear his head and keep the stress levels manageable. His company continued to grow, and with the research on sustainable housing he invested in, the demo cabins being built, he was even more immersed in work. Marcus had never felt jealous or neglected. He loved welcoming Liam home after a long day or spotting him in the audience at a show. Liam had always warned Marcus when he might not be able to come to a premiere, but in most cases, he’d managed anyway. Despite the pressure he faced every day, he made Marcus his priority. To be there for Liam, to support him and admire him, to have the brilliance and murderous efficiency focused on himself whenever he needed, Marcus felt damned privileged. Jules, on the other hand… Jules had hated living according to Liam’s hectic schedule. He had thrown tantrums and sulked.

  What would Luke think?

  “How many pages, Liam?” Marcus asked mildly.

  Liam tapped on the screen of his phone as it lay on the table. “Twenty-seven.”

  Marcus smiled. “Go close yourself in the study. I’ll do the dishes and give Luke a tour around the house. He’s only ever seen it in party mode.”

  Liam stood and pecked Marcus on the cheek like he always did. Except now, he also kissed Luke, who was finishing his chocolate-covered toast. Luke startled a little, looking up at Liam.

  “You have chocolate on your nose,” Liam told him before he left the kitchen. Marcus heard his steps on the stairs.

  “I do?” Luke asked, his wide blue eyes pinned on Marcus.

  Marcus stood and walked around the table. He crouched in front of Luke, kissed the tip of his nose and wiped the tiny spot of chocolate spread away with a gentle brush of his lips. He leaned back, and Luke blinked. He looked so puzzled, scared, and hopeful at the same time. Marcus kissed him on the lips, just a brief touch, and straightened. He couldn’t stare and ponder the blue of Luke’s eyes; he felt his own prickle already.

  “C’mon, we’ll clean this up, and I’ll show you around,” he said hoarsely, but he was grateful his voice held.

  “Okay,” Luke whispered and swallowed.

  They emptied and filled the dishwasher again, and Marcus rinsed the pans while Luke made himself a second cup of coffee. He took it with him when they walked through the living room to the narrow hall along the garage wall. Marcus showed him the downstairs guest room, even the laundry room and the mudroom with the second exit to the garden. Marcus opened the door to point out his seedlings for Luke, feeling both proud and a little ridiculous showing off his little hobby. Luke hid behind his coffee as if Marcus couldn’t see his nervous smiles that way.

  They climbed the stairs and passed by the study. Marcus couldn’t help remembering last night, and he felt the blush climb up his face. Luke didn’t say a word as they walked farther down the hall. Marcus opened the second door and let Luke inside first.

  “Wow,” Luke breathed, looking around.

  “I know.” Marcus smiled. “It used to be a sunroom and an extra guest room.”

  “I remember.”

  “Liam did this in April. He had Christoffer’s guys come here and knock down the wall to merge the rooms. You remember the two-week tour we did in Canada? I came back home to this.”

  “It’s perfect.”

  It was. The gleaming wooden floor and mirrors made the whole room ten times brighter than any other part of the house. There was no furniture except for one armchair in the corner with a tiny round table next to it. Luke put his empty cup there and twirled around, stretching his arms. He paused in front of the armchair.

  “He likes to sit there and work when I play,” Marcus said.

  Luke smirked at the word play. He must have known how Marcus meant it. It’s not a real job. Not a man’s work. How many times did he hear similar bullshit? Yet all those hardworking adults paid their hard-earned money to come and see them.

  “He doesn’t think of your work like that,” Luke said, reading Marcus’s mind.

  “No. He says art is what makes the human race tolerable.”

  Luke smiled. “Sounds like Liam.”

  Marcus grinned too.

  “So like this, you can be together, even when you’re busy each doing your own thing.” Luke walked slowly toward the floor-to-ceiling windows. He peeked through the gauzy curtain and into the garden.

  “Yes.”

  “I can’t believe you have an actual dance studio in your home.”

  “It’s only twenty-eight square meters with a few mirrors on the wall.”

  “Beautiful. And thoughtful.”

  “It’s my favorite place in the entire house.”

  Luke didn’t move. He stood by the curtain, looking out, and Marcus couldn’t see his expression, only the stiffness of his shoulders. What was going on in his mind?

  Marcus stepped closer and hesitated before he put his hands on Luke’s shoulders and leaned his head against his neck. He sighed with relief when Luke covered Marcus’s hands with his and hummed at their contact.

  “And what are you growing there?” he asked softly, nodding toward the gap in the curtains. Marcus’s vegetable beds sat there, bathing in the sun, the sprinklers busy and water droplets glistening with tiny rainbows in them. From this angle, it looked
like a fairyland.

  “Iceberg lettuce, radishes, carrots, parsley, herbs... I even have cucumbers in the greenhouse back by the cliff.”

  Luke turned slowly and wrapped his arms around Marcus, brushing his lips against his forehead. What was wrong with Marcus’s tear ducts today, dammit? Just a hug and they were talking about vegetables, for fuck’s sake.

  He held Luke tight, hiding his face, and Luke rocked them softly in a quiet dance, just a minuscule movement to imaginary tones, as if he knew Marcus needed soothing. They stood like that for a few minutes, holding each other in the place Liam had built for Marcus. For all of them. And Marcus dreamed of dancing here with Luke, of Liam pretending to work while he watched them. He imagined Luke having night shifts as a nurse. Marcus would get up early to pick strawberries and make pie so he could welcome Luke home with fresh breakfast. Because that was what love was, wasn’t it?

  “This is the first time I can hold you without feeling like a bastard,” Luke whispered.

  A kiss into his hair. A sigh.

  “I’m sorry, Luke. I’m so sorry I’ve hurt you.”

  “You never did anything to hurt me. Never.”

  But Marcus had; he knew it. He had stayed close, and he had yearned for Luke’s love, even when he’d seen him suffer. He had been selfish. He still was. Please, let me make it up to you. Let me love you. Let me take care of you.

  “Do you think he’s done?” Luke asked after another minute of silence.

  “He might be? Let’s pack a bag,” Marcus said. He had to do something useful, or he’d spend the day weeping like an overtired toddler. “You’ll need a towel and sunscreen. And we need to bring some food if we’re to stay for more than a couple of hours.”

  “Okay.”

  Eleven

  Luke

  Luke squinted into the distance. He tasted salt in the wind, and microscopic droplets of water teased his bare arms. He sat on the front of the motorboat—bow, Liam called it— and watched the small waves break along the rocky coast as the boat cruised through the southern Gothenburg archipelago.

  He’d expected Liam to take charge because Liam always looked like he was in charge. But now Liam lay next to him, feet perched on the silver railing, eyes hidden behind sunglasses, arms folded under his head. The breeze tousled his salt-and-pepper hair. Marcus stood behind the wheel. Did people call it a wheel when it was on a boat? Whatever. When they had meandered from the marina, Luke had stared quite a lot. Marcus looked distractingly gorgeous in his white shorts, light blue polo, and a simple white baseball cap, commanding the shiny boat.

  And Liam… god, they were both so far above Luke’s league. The house, the boat, the suntan… It was Luke’s first time on a private boat. Ever. He didn’t even know if…

  A warm touch on his wrist made him look to the left. Liam turned his head toward him and caught his hand. Squeezing gently, he smiled, those damned aviator sunglasses shifting on his nose, and Luke…let go. He was on a private boat with two gorgeous men, on a trip along the archipelago. He was going to enjoy the hell out of this day.

  Priscilla was a bright white, shiny thing. Luke would never call her a yacht. She was small. There was one cabin right underneath where he sat, with an odd bean-shaped bed, one compact bathroom, minuscule kitchen corner, and an open lounge area in the back. The seats and benches were cream, wooden details light, polished. Priscilla looked small and innocent from the outside, cozy and luxurious on the inside. Judging by Liam’s house, he would have expected something more imposing.

  They moved slowly, but even so, the wind beat into their faces, rushing by their ears, too loud to allow conversation. Marcus circled one small island and turned to the right, hiding them in a barren bay. Luke didn’t even know the name of the island, but they were south of Vrångö; that he knew. He had lived in the city for all his life, but there were more than twenty islands here, and the number of small, uninhabited pieces of rock in the archipelago seemed to be infinite.

  Between the rounded cliffs, the breeze blew softer. As the boat rocked to a halt, Liam stood and dropped an actual anchor, a small metal device on a nylon rope, into the water. Then Marcus backed up a bit.

  “There. Swimming?” Liam asked, already taking his T-shirt off.

  Luke rose and wobbled a little as the boat moved gently under his feet. Following a now half-naked Liam, he walked carefully around and paused when he reached the back. A flock of seagulls watched them from a nearby rock, huge animals with bright orange noses, their eyes crazy.

  Liam slipped out of his pants and underwear and jumped in, just like that.

  “Liam!” Marcus called from behind Luke. “Sunscreen!”

  Liam turned in the water, paddling backward.

  “Later!” he called back.

  “Stubborn man. Tonight, we’ll be smearing his back with aloe,” Marcus mumbled. He bent down and opened the duffel he’d brought with them. He handed Luke a water bottle.

  “Hydrate,” he said.

  Luke smiled. He knew this side of Marcus well and cherished it. The mother hen. The man pulled out three towels, neatly folded, and placed them on the bench. The sunscreen followed.

  “Take off your shirt and turn around.”

  Luke obeyed without a word. He let Marcus massage his back, just breathing in the salty air and watching Liam swim to the cliffs and climb up, his naked body glistening. He jumped back in a perfect arch. He resurfaced and swam slowly toward the boat, blinking the water from his eyes.

  After he’d smeared the lotion into his neck, Marcus wrapped his fingers around Luke’s ears, rubbing the stuff in. Luke giggled.

  “Ears are exposed and sensitive. Shut up.”

  “I’m not saying a word.”

  “There.” Marcus tugged on Luke’s shoulders to turn him again. He ran his palms down Luke’s torso.

  “I can do my front,” Luke mumbled.

  “Sure, you can. But I want to,” Marcus said, smiling, and kissed him on the lips, massaging his pectorals and belly.

  As Liam climbed up, the boat rocked again. Luke turned and sucked in a breath. Liam wet and naked, standing in the midday sun…

  “He did say he wanted that blow job, didn’t he?” Marcus asked on a whisper.

  “Now?” Luke felt his eyes widen.

  Marcus shrugged, caressing Luke’s ribs. “There’s nobody here.”

  So that was what they did. Luke sucked Liam off in the sun while Marcus watched, petting Luke’s hair and placing random kisses on his shoulder, his temple, his hand where it clung to Liam’s thigh.

  Liam just sat there, sprawled, head bent back over the edge of the leather seat, eyes closed. Luke took his time. He wanted to explore, to try what would make Liam gasp—his balls were sensitive—and when his belly would tighten, Luke teased the slit with the tip of his tongue, and Liam gripped the seat underneath him with both hands. He came on a quiet moan, drawn out and relaxed, and then he tugged Luke up in his lap. Luke had just enough time to take in the lazy smile and sleepy, gentle eyes before Liam kissed him, holding his head with both hands. Luke broke the kiss to look at Marcus, who sat next to them, following them with heated eyes.

  “You’re beautiful,” he said, and nothing more. He seemed content just to sit there and watch.

  Luke reached for him, so Marcus leaned in for a kiss. Their tongues touched while Liam’s hands slid down to Luke’s ass. Liam nuzzled Luke’s throat and the hollow under his ear, kissed along the tendons on his neck, gently breathed against Luke’s skin, making him burn all over, while Marcus deepened their kiss. Fuck me. The image flashed through Luke’s brain. The dreams he’d been having. Four hands glided over his back and thighs. He pushed his hard-on against Liam’s belly, and Marcus’s fingers ran along his crease. Fuck me. Own me. Use me, both of you. Take turns. Make me your slave. He could see it, taste it, and feel it. If they weren’t on a boat out in the open, unprepared with no supplies, he would have asked them to do it. He had no idea how much time he had with them. The desire h
e felt reached a level of acute pain. What if something goes wrong, and I never get to…

  He whimpered. Feeling Liam’s arms tighten around his body, he tried to rock in his lap. His hard cock wept into his underwear. Marcus gentled the kiss, and Liam joined it, their tastes mingling, tongues flicking against each other. Luke realized he was blindly rubbing his groin against Liam, but he could do nothing to stop himself.

  Fuck me. Please fuck me. Hold me down and gag me with your cock. I want you both. Please fuck me…

  Then he came. Out of nowhere. He just fell over the edge without knowing he’d been so close. He arched his back in Liam’s lap, tearing away from Marcus’s and Liam’s faces, and he cried out.

  He felt a hand in his boxers, fisting his cock, pumping him through his peak. Marcus.

  “So gorgeous,” Marcus whispered.

  Luke slumped forward, taken aback by the intensity of his orgasm and a little embarrassed. He’d come in his pants, just humping Liam. Liam shifted underneath him, and Luke slid off his lap and landed between the two men on the small seat.

  “Damn. I didn’t mean to…”

  “You were exquisite,” Liam purred. “You can come in my lap anytime.”

  Heat flooded Luke’s cheeks.

  “Marcus?” he asked, caressing the man’s bulge.

  “I’m going for a swim,” Marcus said, grinning. He pushed into Luke’s hand once, hummed, and stood, dropping his clothes. His hard cock bobbed in the air. “I have plans for tonight.” He winked and threw himself over the edge and into the cold water with a splash.

  “Marcus! Sunscreen?” Liam called laughingly.

  “Later! If you’d touch me now, I’d just end up spreading my ass for the two of you right here. And I have plans!”

  “Damn,” Luke mumbled, and Liam chuckled next to him.

  “C’mon,” he said and followed after Marcus into the water.

  Luke slid out of his soiled underwear and, reaching down over the edge of the boat, tried to wash it in the seawater. The small drops of come floated around, making Luke wrinkle his nose. But they dispersed soon enough.