Polar Reaction

by Claire Thompson

Tuck twisted his head toward the sleeping man. “Dead to the world.” He turned back. “Maybe we should get off this floor."

  "Yeah.” Brendan was at once deflated and relieved by the reprieve. They both got to their feet. Tuck held out his arms and Brendan moved into them. The embrace brought air to a gasping emptiness somewhere inside him. He leaned his head against Tuck's chest, all thoughts quieting at last.

  Without planning it, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, he lifted his head and closed his eyes, his heart near to bursting as Tuck's lips touched his.

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  Chapter Five

  The kiss was brief, closed lips brushing against one another. “Your heart's beating so fast,” Tuck murmured. His own heart was smashing against his ribs and he literally felt weak in the knees. Slow down, slow down, he warned himself.

  His balls were aching, his cock straining hard against the confines of his clothing. If he didn't get a little distance between them, he knew he was going to tear Brendan's clothes from his body and take him then and there.

  Tuck hoped his voice portrayed a calm he didn't feel. “Let's lie down. We can push two of the cots together.” The cots had heavy-duty wood frames with a thick mattress pad over the canvas set low to the ground. They were actually quite comfortable. Together they shoved the closest cot until it was touching Tuck's, which was flush against the wall. Retrieving their blankets, Tuck placed one across the makeshift double bed. Brendan sat on the edge, looking toward the inert figure of Jamie.

  "You think he'll be okay down there? Should we wake him and have him get into his own bed?"

  The last thing Tuck wanted was for Jamie to wake up. Not now. “He'll be fine. We'll keep an eye on him.” He walked over to Jamie and pushed the space heater several feet from him so he wouldn't inadvertently knock it over if he moved in his sleep.

  Returning to the bed, he sat beside Brendan. He reminded himself Brendan must be even more nervous than he was. “Let's lie down,” he urged. He pushed at Brendan's shoulder, maneuvering himself so Brendan was nearest the wall.

  Brendan lay on his side, facing Tuck. Tuck eased toward him, feeling in a way as if he were dealing with a wild animal, one he desperately didn't want to frighten away. He shifted until their bodies were touching at the shoulder, the groin, the thigh. He could feel Brendan's heart pounding.

  Cautiously he brought a hand to Brendan's cheek. Brendan sucked in his breath, his eyes trained on Tuck's face. “Tuck. I don't know ... I've never..."

  "It's okay. You don't have to know. You don't have to do anything. It's just us. You and me. Please, Brendan. Just trust your instincts."

  Tuck knew Brendan was scared, but he could feel the bulge of his erection, which matched Tuck's own. He hadn't pulled away when Tuck had dared to touch his arm before. And when they'd held one another, yes, it was the embrace of friends, but more, much more, had silently passed between them.

  When Brendan had lifted his face, his eyes closed, the dark blond lashes brushing his cheekbones, offering a mouth made for plundering, Tuck had nearly gone out of his mind. It had taken every ounce of self-control to stop himself from crushing Brendan to his chest, forcing Brendan's lips apart with his tongue, claiming his mouth and in short order, his body.

  Brendan might be protesting with his words, but he hadn't resisted. He was facing Tuck, allowing him to stroke his cheek. His eyes were closed, his hand resting on his hip. The bulge at his crotch was undeniable. I've seen that cock, that sexy, long, thick cock, Tuck thought, flashing back to the naked man in the shower.

  Unable to resist a moment longer, he brought his face close to Brendan's. He touched Brendan's lips lightly with his own, as before. A brushing of skin, a testing of the waters. Brendan lifted his chin in silent collusion.

  Pent-up longing spilled over, rendering Tuck suddenly reckless. He parted his lips, pressing his tongue into Brendan's mouth. Brendan jerked back with a gasp. Tuck reached for him, pulling his body hard against his own.

  He slipped his hand to the nape of Brendan's neck, palming the back of his head while he kissed him. Brendan held himself stiffly, pushing against Tuck's tight embrace, though without much conviction. Tuck knew he was moving too fast. He couldn't help it. He didn't care. His tongue danced in Brendan's mouth and he ground his crotch against Brendan's—steel on steel.

  Brendan stopped struggling in his arms. His tongue eased past Tuck's, snaking into Tuck's mouth while his arm came around Tuck. They kissed for several minutes, feverishly at first, then slowing down to explore, to suckle, to tease. Tuck pulled back, drawing his tongue down Brendan's sandpapery chin and along his throat. He gave in to his impulse to lightly bite the firm, muscular flesh where Brendan's neck met his shoulder.

  Brendan was breathing hard. He didn't resist, he didn't push him away. Emboldened, Tuck slid lower, pushing up Brendan's shirt. He ran his hands over Brendan's firm abs and along the warm skin to his chest. Leaning up, he flicked at a nipple with his tongue, savoring how it stiffened to his touch.

  He grabbed the second quilt from the end of the bed and drew it over their bodies, completely hiding his own head, hoping this cover would allow Brendan to let him continue.

  Blindly he groped for Brendan's fly, pulling open the metal button at its top and forcing the zipper past the mound of his cock and balls. The underwear was loose—boxer shorts from the feel of them. Eagerly, praying Brendan wouldn't stop him, Tuck reached inside for the prize.

  Brendan's cock was hard, the skin taut and hot to the touch. Tuck gripped it, feeling the pulse of a vein throb against his palm. He inhaled the intoxicating scent of Brendan's musk. Brendan was trembling. A part of Tuck knew he should slow down, better gauge Brendan's responses, give him a chance to adjust.

  Lust overruled these considerations and he opened his mouth, never in his life so hungry for what he was about to taste. He closed his lips in a wet, tight circle over the head of Brendan's fat cock. A soft moan was audible above the covers.

  Emboldened by Brendan's response, Tuck lowered his head, taking the cock fully into his mouth. He moved his hand down to stroke the delicate balls beneath, while suckling the rigid shaft as best he could within the confines of the boxers and the suffocating down quilt covering his head.

  After several minutes of greedily feasting, Tuck felt Brendan's hand on the back of his head and inwardly grinned. The gesture subtly changed what was going on between them. No longer merely the shy virgin swept up in the moment by the more experienced and persistent lover, that touch proved Brendan's active desire, his complicity in the act.

  Brendan began to shudder, his hips thrusting toward Tuck, forcing his cock deep into Tuck's throat. Brendan's fingers gripped Tuck's hair, twisting it as he stiffened and uttered a small, stifled cry. Brendan's cock was too far back in his throat for Tuck to taste its sweet emission, but he could feel the spurting release pulsing through the shaft.

  Brendan loosened his grip and sagged back against the cot. Tuck drew back, allowing the spent shaft to fall from his lips. He pushed the covers from his head and pulled himself, sweating, up beside Brendan.

  He expected to find Brendan limp, eyes closed, even feigning sleep. Instead he found him, raised on one elbow, his eyes wide open and blazing with a kind of inner fire.

  "Tuck,” he breathed, infusing the word with such passion Tuck found himself blushing.

  Brendan took him into his arms. He held him so tight Tuck could barely breathe. After a moment he disengaged himself from the binding embrace and moved back a little to see Brendan's face.

  "You okay?"

  "Yeah. I have absolutely no fucking idea what the hell just happened, but I think I'll live."

  "I didn't exactly mean to do that.” Tuck dipped his head apologetically. “It just sort of happened."

  "Well, I didn't exactly fight you off.” Tuck thought he detected hesitation, even regret in Brendan's voice. Now that Brendan had come, was the hetero voice of reason raising its irrational, homoph
obic head?

  Tuck tried to keep his voice light. “But?"

  "Does it make me...?"

  Tuck knew what Brendan wanted to say. He took an almost cruel pleasure in refusing to help him along. “What I mean is,” Brendan continued, no longer meeting Tuck's eye, “I've never, uh, you know, been with a guy.” He dragged a hand over his face and through his hair.

  Tuck prompted, “So you're wondering now if you're..."

  "Well, yeah, you know. Because I've only ever been with women before and now..."

  Tuck couldn't bear the thought of Brendan pulling back, pulling away. All the carefully controlled emotions and desires held in such tight check these past six weeks had burst from the dam of Tuck's reserve. He wouldn't, he couldn't go back to pretending they were just colleagues, just friends.

  He leaned up over Brendan, pushing him down onto his back. His still-raging erection made him bold. “Don't think so much. Not now. Just kiss me.” He lowered himself over Brendan, letting his full weight pin the smaller man beneath him.

  To his vast relief, Brendan didn't resist him. Instead his lips parted to meet Tuck's, his arms coming around him. As they kissed, Tuck couldn't help rubbing against Brendan's crotch. His cock, still trapped in denim and cotton, remained hard as bone. Would he be reduced to the same ignoble release as poor Jamie, coming in his pants like a kid?

  To his stunned surprise, he felt Brendan's hands fumbling at his fly. Tuck lifted his hips to allow easier access. When Brendan's fingers brushed the exposed head of his penis, which was sticking out of the top of his bikini briefs, he nearly came then and there.

  Too hot to care if Jamie saw, if Brendan was having second thoughts or if an entire rescue crew walked in on them right then, Tuck pushed his jeans and underwear down his thighs. He rolled to his back, his cock levitating over his belly. Silently, desperately, he willed Brendan to touch him again.

  Brendan obeyed the silent command, capturing the length of Tuck's shaft and pulling up hard. Tuck groaned. Brendan's hand moved down, pumping Tuck's shaft as he'd pumped his own in the shower. The incredible, perfect friction, the sensual buildup of the last hour and the knowledge it was Brendan touching him, made him come within minutes. Brendan held on as Tuck jerked and shuddered, spurting his seed over his stomach and chest.

  He lay waiting to catch his breath, chilled as the sweat that had broken over his body began to evaporate. His pants and underwear were twisted at his knees. His cock was flagging and sticky with ejaculate.

  He turned to Brendan with a small laugh, touching a blob of semen. “I'm a mess. I need a shower."

  "But we agreed to conserve...?” Brendan made the remark a question.

  "Conserve, not forbid altogether.” Tuck paused, pretending the idea had just come to him. “Say, what about this? We could shower together. Save water and fuel that way, right?"

  As he watched the other man's face close, he could have bitten off his tongue. It was one thing to jerk each other off, both still half-dressed, hidden beneath blankets and the cover of darkness. It was quite another to face one another, naked, the heat of desire for the moment cooled by their recent release.

  "I, uh, I think I'll pass,” Brendan demurred. “I'm really beat.” He turned away.

  "Sure, whatever.” Tuck rose swiftly from the cot, hitching his jeans into place, using the tail of his shirt to wipe away some of the evidence of his recent passion. Stepping past the still-sleeping Jamie on the floor, he fled to the bathroom.

  Jamie lay silent as a stone, his mind whirling. He had awoken to the whispering rustle of the quilts, to ragged breathing and barely audible gasps of pleasure. It took a second for his fogged brain to clear and process what he was hearing.

  So he'd been right. There was something between those two. Or at least there was now. He wanted to sit up and see just exactly what they were doing. He wanted to get up and join them but didn't dare.

  Instead he pulled open his pants, reaching in to stroke his erection. He was both sexually excited by what he was hearing and lonelier than he'd ever felt in his life. What about me? He wanted to demand to be included, but he kept his silence, his hard cock wrapped in his hand as Tuck and Brendan took their pleasure without him.

  Tuck, who only that afternoon had draped his hard, sexy body over Jamie's, using the massage as an excuse to touch him. Jealousy rose like bile in his throat at the thought of Brendan now possessing the man Jamie wanted for his own.

  I had him first.

  He pushed away the irrational thought. He'd come like a teenager on Tuck's leg. That didn't mean they were going out. Though Tuck had been gracious about it, he probably thought Jamie was just a kid—not a serious contender for his affections.

  He heard them moving, their voices low as they murmured together. He jerked his hand from his jeans and shut his eyes when he heard footsteps approaching. The bathroom door opened and closed. He could hear the sound of running water in the shower.

  The image of tall, dark Tuck and the slighter, blond Brendan pressed against each other, naked beneath the spray, filled him with jealousy and lust in equal measure. The unsatisfactory orgasm he'd stolen with Tuck had barely taken the edge off a building desire. It felt good to touch himself.

  Closing his eyes, he visualized the two naked men as he stroked. He imagined himself between them, on his knees, taking first one and then the other hard cock into his mouth. He pulled up hard against his shaft, aware he only had a few minutes before the lovebirds emerged from their shower.

  The scene shifted. He was on his hands and knees, Tuck behind him, poised to penetrate, Brendan beneath him, Jamie's cock down his throat. Jamie reached into his jeans pocket, finding and retrieving a crumpled tissue. He spit on his hand and returned to his cock, rubbing in a frenzy, his eyes squeezed tight, his breathing labored. He came in several hard, jerking thrusts, aiming the ejaculation as best he could into the tissue.

  He heard the scrape of metal against wood and stiffened. It sounded like a cot being moved. Shit. Someone was in the room. For a fraction of a second he couldn't fathom who it could be. He would have heard a rescue plane's arrival, wouldn't he? As reason returned, he realized he had just assumed they'd gone into the bathroom together to continue where they'd left off in the bed. Apparently he'd been mistaken.

  Stuffing the gooey tissue into his pocket, he zipped his fly and pulled down his shirt. Lifting his head, he peered through the rosy gloom cast by the portable heater.

  Brendan was walking from Tuck's cot to his own. He appeared to be fully dressed. As if sensing Jamie's gaze, he turned toward him. It was too dark to see his expression clearly, but by his body language, Jamie had a sense Brendan was uncomfortable. Had he heard Jamie jerking off? His face burned with embarrassment at the probability.

  Yet when Brendan spoke, his voice was casual, perhaps elaborately so—it was hard to say. “You're awake."

  "Yeah. Just woke up,” Jamie lied, fairly certain Brendan had heard him, but damned if he'd admit it. He sat up and a wave of dizziness assailed him. He dragged his hand over his eyes, waiting for it to pass.

  Brendan moved closer to him and sat on the edge of an empty cot. “You all right?"

  "Yeah, I'm fine. Just sat up too fast."

  "You need help getting up?"

  Jamie shook his head and rolled himself to his knees. He stood, fighting off the second round of dizziness. He'd had a lot to drink and not much to eat in the last twenty-four hours. Brendan, meanwhile, had returned to his own cot, where he stretched out, still fully clothed, and pulled his blanket to his chin. The silence was heavy. There was so much left unsaid between them. Jamie opened his mouth to try and then shut it again.

  He pricked his ears. Something was different. In the stillness he strained his mind, trying to come up with what it was. The shower was no longer running. The night was ... quiet.

  "Oh my God,” he burst out. “Listen to that."

  "To what?” Brendan leaned up on his elbows.

  "That's just it. Not
hing. The wind. It's not howling. The building isn't rattling. It's quiet."

  Brendan flung the covers aside and leaped up, heading for the window. He pulled back the flap and stared into the gloom. “You're right. The winds have died down, at least for now."

  Grabbing his flashlight, he shone it through the glass. Snow was still falling, but it was falling down, instead of sideways. Brendan clicked off the flashlight and turned on the reading lamp beside his cot.

  "Not much we can do now. We should probably try to get some sleep. Then in the morning we can see if we can't get a door or window open. I want to find that satellite dish and see if it sustained damage. If we could get it working, we could get contact back with the outside world."

  Relief surged through Jamie. Weakly he sank to his own cot, for a moment the distraction of Brendan and Tuck as lovers pushed to the back of his mind. If the storm was over, or nearly so, they would be rescued. Maybe not tomorrow or even the next day, but there was hope. Winter hadn't yet set in. The sun still hovered over the horizon. Soon they would be back in the States, telling their tale to friends over mugs of beer.

  Tuck came out of the bathroom in his jeans and undershirt, toweling his hair. “Jamie. You're up. I hope we didn't wake you.” A secret look flashed between Tuck and Brendan, slipping like a dagger between Jamie's ribs.

  Didn't think of that while you were getting each other off, huh? Jamie pushed aside the thought, focusing on the positive. “Listen to the wind, Tuck. Or rather the lack of it. The storm's over."

  "Not necessarily over,” Brendan interjected. “Don't get your hopes too high, Jamie. Sometimes there are lulls and then the winds and snow pick up again. But it is a good sign."

  Tuck tilted his head, listening. “Hey. That's great. Did you check outside? Can you see anything?” His voice was laced with excitement.

  "Still snowing.” Brendan's voice was calm. “I thought we could wait until morning. See if we can't dig out and get our satellite signal back."

  Tuck moved toward his own cot and sat on the edge. “I guess we should try to get some sleep, huh? Though I, for one, don't know if I'll be able to shut my eyes. I'm too hungry, for one thing. We could feast on oatmeal and energy bars."