by Abigail Roux
Ouch.
Brandt just barely managed not to physically wince at Shawn’s words.
“I’m sorry,” Shawn sighed in a tired voice. He looked at Brandt pleadingly.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. Both of you,” he said, looking at Thiago before
practically throwing himself down on the end of the bed and letting his head fall into his hands.
Brandt stared at his well-muscled back and wondered what he was missing
that made him unable to understand Shawn’s emotions. Was it a sentiment he was
incapable of experiencing that was playing hell on Shawn? Was that it? Unless it dealt with destruction, lust, or affection, apparently, Brandt freely admitted that he was pretty well lost.
“I had no right to shout at him. You’re right. I had no right to say what I did.
I had no right… no right at all,” Shawn repeated between his periodic curses and
inaudible mumblings. Brandt and Thiago shared a look, then returned their eyes to Shawn as he began to rock slightly.
“You’re right, Shawn,” Thiago said finally as he looked at Shawn’s back
sympathetically. Apparently, Thiago was quicker to forgive than Brandt was. “You
know Remy better than we do. If you say he’s fine, then he is.”
Shawn shook his head. “No. I’ve never seen him look like that. Like– ”
“Like you had just called him a traitor?” Brandt supplied in a low, even
voice.
“Oh, God,” Shawn groaned miserably.
“Why don’t you go check on him?” Thiago suggested.
“No. No, he’s… he needs to rest. I’ll just stir him back up if I go in there
now.”
“The light’s still on,” Brandt observed as he looked at the bottom of the
dividing door.
“I doubt they’ll turn it off after all the excitement,” Shawn said morosely.
“How the hell did Remy get in here, anyway?” Thiago asked suddenly. “You
think that’s what woke Carl?”
“Probably,” Shawn replied absently. “I told you Remy had special skills.
He’s like fucking Houdini. He can get out of just about anything. And it’s like he flips a switch and goes into full-out stealth mode. I’ve seen rusty hinges glide and squeaky
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floorboards go silent when he touches them. I don’t know how he does it. One thing’s for sure, if he makes a noise it’s either because he means to or he’s tripped over something,” Shawn said fondly. Brandt snorted and Thiago smiled slightly. “There’s no telling how long he was in here before he picked his moment,” Shawn murmured.
They sat in silence for some time as Shawn mentally kicked himself for his
behavior and Brandt pondered over Remy’s other special skills. Finally, Brandt took pity on Shawn and softly called his name to get his attention once more.
He understood where the anger came from. He had felt it, too, when Remy
had beamed at them all like a little kid handing his mother a frog. Shawn’s anger was just compounded by the deeper attachment, and Brandt could understand that.
Shawn turned to look at Brandt questioningly, almost hopefully, and Brandt
scooted away from Thiago and patted the bed between them.
“Come up here. Stop beating yourself up.”
Shawn stared at the space between them for long seconds before looking
back at Brandt gratefully and crawling towards them. He settled down between them with his back against the headboard and sighed heavily, his mind probably still on the near-brawl and the words he spoke in the heat of the moment.
And boy, did Brandt understand the heat of the moment.
Brandt looked over his head at Thiago, who was looking at him expectantly.
Brandt hadn’t given Thiago nearly enough attention, he realized. The man was
amazingly fit. And intuitive. And intelligent. And his eyes had the power to hypnotize Brandt when they glittered like that. They were such an odd color.
“Do you think a good shagging would help him?” Brandt asked
conversationally. Thiago pursed his lips and nodded his head.
“Could be,” he said in a scholarly fashion that Brandt found highly
entertaining. He saw Shawn glance at him out of the corner of his eye, and he noticed the beginnings of a smile tug at the older man’s lips. “Would he be content to just watch, do you suppose?” Thiago asked in the same tone as he fingered the cleft in his chin.
“I don’t know,” Brandt responded innocently, looking off into the corner of
the room as if he were seriously thinking on the matter. “He doesn’t really seem the type to just watch.”
“Yes, he does strike one as the hands-on type,” Thiago mused.
“Will you two bugger off?” Shawn grumped, though he couldn’t quite hide
the laughter in his voice.
A knock on the door to the other room halted the activities Brandt had been
trying to initiate, and Shawn started and leaned forwards expectantly.
“Come on,” Thiago called in amusement as he watched Shawn closely.
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Seconds later Nikolaus poked his head through the door and blinked at the three of them.
“You look like those evil monkeys,” he observed with amusement as he
stepped in and shut the door behind him.
“Evil monkeys?” Shawn repeated in confusion. Brandt’s own brow furrowed
as he watched Nikolaus walk further into the room and nod. Sure they all needed
haircuts and maybe a shave, but monkeys?
“You know, hear no evil, see no evil… whatever the last one was,” Nikolaus
explained distractedly as he looked around the room.
“Speak no evil,” Thiago supplied with a grin. Nikolaus nodded again.
“That’s the one. Is Remy’s bag in here?”
“Might be in the corner there,” Shawn said with a gesture toward the corner
by the other bed. Nikolaus had managed to salvage most of their things, and he had taken Remy’s leather satchel with him to give to Shawn. “Does he need a new shirt?”
Shawn questioned guiltily.
“Yeah,” Nikolaus said as he walked over to pick up the bag. “New
everything, actually. He and Carl cut up what he was wearing looking for bugs.”
“Bugs?” Brandt asked in alarm.
“They didn’t find any. But Remy and uh… well, they’re… what I mean
is….” Nikolaus looked at Shawn in concern and perhaps fear, and licked his lips
nervously. Brandt understood perfectly though.
“Carl’s searching his person, yeah?” Brandt asked in amusement, all sense of
mercy or pity forgotten. Nikolaus looked at him as if he were in pain and then nodded reluctantly. “Lucky bastard,” Brandt murmured.
VII.
REMY examined his fingers intently, frowning at the wrinkles he was forming.
“I think I need to get out,” he announced. Carl raised his head and looked at
him impassively. He was entertaining himself by making little ripples in the water with his fingers.
“Niko’s getting your clothes. Stay in there ’til he gets back at least. What’s
taking him so long?” Carl wondered aloud as he looked at the door.
“I’m waterlogged. And your fingers are driving me crazy!” Remy yelled as
Carl’s fingers continued to rub circles over his hip. Carl looked at him in surprise and then down at his fingers as if he thought he had just grown them.
“Sorry!” he said as he pulled them out of the water. “I didn’t realize–”
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Remy reached out, gripped Carl’s arm, and pulle
d him down. Carl’s eyes
widened in surprise, and Remy knew his speed had shocked the other man. Normally, he would have toned it down. It never paid to show your full strength, but right then he didn’t care. Carl’s gentle touches and unassuming manner threw Remy’s control
over his neglected sex drive into a complete tailspin, and he needed to be touched.
Now.
Carl’s arm hit the water with a splash, and Remy rose up to meet him as he
crushed their mouths together. Carl fought him slightly, and finally Remy lost
patience with it and pulled Carl bodily into the tub with him, pajama bottoms and all.
He wrapped himself around Carl’s body and kissed him hungrily.
Carl finally regained control and propped himself up on his arms to glare
down at Remy, who smiled back at him as he dripped.
“You crazy tosser!” Carl gasped. “I’m wet!”
“So’m I. Search me for bugs, Trigger,” Remy said in a low, purring voice.
Carl shivered above him, but his eyes remained locked with Remy’s. “Your eyes are green, aren’t they?” Remy murmured as Carl shifted, trying to get away from the now lukewarm water while remaining plastered to Remy’s body. It looked to be difficult.
Remy swung one leg over the side of the tub and tried to make room for him. Carl
settled down between his legs, and Remy knew that at least Carl wanted it as much as he did. He brought his leg back into the tub and hooked it over Carl’s hip before the other man could try to get away again.
“No, my eyes aren’t green,” Carl answered distractedly.
“Hazel then?” Remy asked with a smirk.
“Yes. Mostly, anyway. What the hell are you doing?”
“I should have thought it would be obvious,” Remy purred back at him.
“What about… Shawn won’t… I don’t want to be getting into the middle of
anything.”
“The only thing you’ll be getting into is me,” Remy responded with a
mischievous smile as he tugged at Carl’s long hair and forced him down for another kiss. Carl was hesitant, and he seemed to waver between pulling away and delving
deeper. For some reason the hesitance made Remy want him all the more, and he
turned the seduction up a notch. His tongue glided behind Carl’s upper teeth and then plunged deep into his mouth, swirling around Carl’s tongue and coaxing it into
activity.
Carl groaned and gripped Remy’s arms as their tongues battled; he slid
Remy’s wet body up the slick side of the tub and pressed him into a semi-sitting
position, remaining on his knees between Remy’s legs as he did so. The water
splashed wildly around them and Remy pawed at Carl’s wet pajama pants with his
one free hand. He whimpered into Carl’s mouth as the gripping fingers dug into his fresh wound, and for the life of him, he couldn’t understand why the pain turned him
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on so much.
Perhaps he was channeling Brandt or something. Didn’t matter.
“Please,” he whispered as Carl separated for air. “Please,” he said again in a
stronger voice. Carl shook his head absently and muttered.
“We should get out of the water,” he suggested as he thrust forward against
Remy’s body unconsciously.
“No,” Remy groaned. “Too cold out there. Jesus, Trigger,” he murmured as
Carl’s hand tightened around his arm. The pain lanced through his bicep like a fresh bullet whipping past him, but his cock throbbed with desire and he cried out
desperately. “Please! Fuck me!”
“Jesus,” Carl breathed as he lowered himself further into the water, and it
sloshed over the edge of the bathtub. “We’re making a mess,” he argued desperately.
“We’ll be leaving in the morning anyway,” Remy panted. “Do you always
argue this much?”
“Uhh...”
Remy cut off any possible argument with another searing kiss, and Carl’s
hips thrust forwards into him once more, causing them both to slip down the sloping side of the bath and into the water once more. Remy moaned into Carl’s mouth and
tried to pull him closer, but still Carl held him at bay and shook his head violently when he pulled away.
“I’ll hurt you,” he protested as he struggled to return them both to a sitting
position. The water lapped at Remy’s chin and sloshed over the side of the tub.
“No more than you already have,” Remy argued plaintively as he grabbed
for Carl’s arm and pulled him close. Carl did a double take when he saw the water around them. The blood was once more running freely down Remy’s arm, slowly
turning the water a faint pink. Carl looked down at him in horror.
“Jesus!” he hissed. “I’m sorry!”
Remy lunged upwards and attached himself to Carl like a leech, throwing
their precarious position off once more, which was difficult and not a little dangerous in the bath full of water. Carl’s knees and hands struggled for purchase; he ended up sliding against the slick bottom of the tub, pressed against Remy’s body and into his arms. Remy’s head banged against the wall and he slid beneath the water as he lost his hold around Carl’s neck, but Carl managed to pull him back up with one arm as the other kept them both above water. The trace amount of anger was gone from
Carl’s eyes, but he maintained the startled look.
“Sorry!” Carl murmured again as he steadied Remy beneath him and held
him close to his body, looking at the flowing blood with a grimace.
“Don’t be sorry,” Remy growled; they struggled to stay upright together and
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their bodies pressed into one another with a wet sucking sound. “Just do it again.”
Carl shook his head vehemently. “No.”
Remy kissed him again, trying to break the other man’s restraint. He used his
still submerged thigh to push between Carl’s legs, and pushed just hard enough to make Carl worry about his ability to reproduce before he let up and then pushed
again. Carl wasn’t fighting him at all, and Remy was impressed with the man’s ability to control himself.
“You don’t want me?” Remy inquired in a low, sultry voice. Carl closed his
eyes and swallowed heavily.
“Remy,” he croaked. “Please don’t make me do this to you.”
Remy furrowed his brow in confusion, but he sensed something dangerous in
Carl’s voice that made his entire body pulse with need. How much could you poke the sleeping lion before he awoke and bit your head off?
Well, Remy didn’t know, but he sure did plan on finding out.
“Do what, Trigger? What will you do to me?” Remy pushed, tightening his
grip around Carl’s neck and bringing Carl down to him, pressing his wet, naked body against him and giving him little choice but to feel every inch of what he was being offered.
“Oh, God,” Carl murmured as Remy breathed heavily over Carl’s wet neck
and ear. “Out of the water,” he requested softly. He gripped Remy tighter and made to pick him up, but Remy kicked out with his leg and dislodged Carl’s knee, sending the bigger man toppling down onto him in another great splash of water.
“I like it here,” Remy sputtered as the water rose around his mouth. Carl
kissed him hard, pressing Remy down into the water with the weight of his body.
Remy squeezed his eyes shut and relished the feel of Carl’s tongue in his mouth as the water seeped in and trickled down his throat. He was completely under water, and his pulse raced as the added adrenaline kick from the threat of drowning as he attempted to fuck one of his companions e
ntered his bloodstream. Carl began to push him
towards the end of the bath once more, and Remy slid until he was once again above water and panting into Carl’s open mouth.
He slid his hands down Carl’s dripping body and under the soaked waistband
of the thin cotton pants Carl had put on when he woke up, and he pushed them down over Carl’s hips and gripped his ass, pulling him towards him and upsetting their precarious balance once more. This time though, Carl managed to keep them from
going under again, and he growled warningly as his tongue continued to delve further into Remy’s mouth. The growl echoed through Remy’s body and he shivered happily.
There was the lion. Remy spread his legs open as far as they could go in the
confining space, working Carl in between them finally, and Carl automatically edged closer as he lifted his body up and knelt over Remy, never breaking the wet, heated kiss.
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“You want it this way?” Carl panted in between a succession of quick,
fevered kisses that Remy thought he’d never get enough of.
“Yes,” Remy hissed back.
Carl struggled to disrobe, and somehow managed it without either standing
or getting out of the bathtub. Remy was intrigued. He ran his soapy hand over Carl’s impressive chest and abdomen as Carl knelt between his legs.
“Jesus,” Remy muttered lustily as his hands ran over hard muscle and
smooth skin. Carl shivered when Remy’s hands reached his groin.
Carl growled again suddenly; he swiped his hand through the soap and suds
on his chest before grabbing Remy’s hip with his other hand and pulling him
forcefully until Remy’s ass rested on his thighs. Remy’s head remained just barely above the water when he had finished sliding. He let it sink until his nose was almost submerged, and his eyes rolled into the back of his head as Carl’s soapy fingers thrust into him roughly.
Remy’s slick hands scrambled for purchase, but could find none as Carl
twisted his fingers and leant forward to kiss him hard. The water rushed into Remy’s throat once more, and he writhed in the shallow water as Carl’s finger twisted inside him.