by Watts, Mia
Ben caught Gibbs’ nipple in a hard twisting pinch, and suddenly Ben lost it. His hips thrust involuntarily as Ben cranked his wrist near the unprotected tip of Gibbs’ cock. Sparks burst behind his closed lids as cum streaked up his cock and spilled into the night air.
“That’s it. Come for me, Duncan,” Ben praised harshly.
Gibbs’ eyes flew open, even as Ben’s work-roughened hand stripped the cum from Gibbs’ raw cock. The breath stuttered in his throat, when the shards of reality splintered around him.
Ben buried his face in Gibbs’ neck. “God, Duncan, you’re amazing. I can’t wait to do that to you with the lights on.”
Silence fell between them, as Gibbs struggled to find words. This whole time he’d been loving Ben with everything he had, every kiss, every touch, every reciprocated word of delight. Yet, Ben had meant it all for someone else.
Pain sliced his chest so deeply Gibbs silently begged the night to swallow him up and make it stop. Instead, the cheery tunes of a square dance punctured his peace with its mockery.
“You’d only be disappointed,” Gibbs told him, after a few moments.
Ben rubbed Gibbs’ now flaccid cock, cupped his balls playfully. “Never. I had no idea you were such a selfless lover.”
Gibbs thought of all the threesomes he’d had with Duncan and Charlie. Duncan was selfless, but this moment had been about more than giving pleasure. It had been giving himself.
Ben didn’t want him though. He wanted Duncan.
“I have to go,” Gibbs said, choking on the words.
“Will I see you later?”
“Yeah. Whatever,” he muttered, stumbling deeper into the woods—somewhere safe he could shift and fly away from the pain of losing the man he’d never really had in the first place.
Chapter Two
Three hours later, Gibbs closed the front door. He leaned on it, appreciating the cool wood through his shirt. His arms, back, and abs still burned pleasantly from flight. Usually flying relaxed him. Tonight seemed to be the exception.
He closed his eyes, thinking of all the ways his encounter with Ben could have gone. All the ways he’d have wanted it to go. None of them involved Ben asking for Duncan’s cum.
The sound of men in pleasure reached him. He pushed away from the door, pulled his shirt off, and kicked his shoes from his feet as he approached the bedroom. Though it wasn’t Duncan’s fault that Ben wanted to fuck him, Gibbs wasn’t feeling charitable about sharing.
He unsnapped his jeans, as he entered the dimly lit room. Duncan straddled Charlie’s hips. Charlie massaged Duncan’s thighs. He saw Gibbs and smiled widely. “Hey, buddy, we were looking for you.”
“You aren’t going to find me in Duncan’s ass,” Gibbs said dryly.
Duncan grinned at him over his shoulder. “Not yet, anyway.”
Gibbs didn’t miss the fact that Duncan’s smile didn’t convincingly reach his eyes. He seemed happy enough to see Gibbs, but more like he’d been hoping for a moment alone with Charlie. Gibbs wasn’t surprised. Though they had an open relationship among the three of them, nothing about their arrangement was proprietary. No-strings sex was great, as long as everyone was on board with the idea. It seemed to Gibbs that Duncan might want a little more from Charlie.
Charlie didn’t seem to have a clue.
“C’mon,” Duncan encouraged.
Gibbs paused in the removal of his pants. “Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude if you have something going here.” Which was a lie. He did want to intrude. And why shouldn’t he? Hadn’t Duncan intruded all over Gibbs when Ben had been panting out Duncan’s name?
Gibbs pushed his pants down.
Duncan lifted his brows. “Bring more lube.”
Sex, the great equalizer. Sex, the calmer of frazzled nerves. Sex, the sleep-aid. Tonight, it would be sex, the memory eraser. He detoured to the bathroom, picking up a tube of lubricant, and tossed it to the bed.
“I’ve sucked Charlie off. You want to ride double tonight, so he can blow you while I take his ass?” Duncan asked.
“Dude, don’t I get a say in this?” Charlie interjected playfully.
“Not really,” Gibbs said.
He loved these guys, and as the only three gay shifters in the area, it made their arrangement work, but tonight, Gibbs had wanted Ben to want him. And tonight Ben had only wanted Duncan.
Anguish burned in Gibbs’ throat.
“Duncan’s ass is mine,” Gibbs growled.
Duncan tossed him a condom. “Then lube up.”
Gibbs caught the condom in mid-flight, and crawled onto the bed with his roommates.
“We waited for you. What took you so long to get home?” Charlie asked.
“I’m an owl. By nature,” Gibbs said sliding the condom over his rigid cock and tossing the lube aside. “I’m a night person.”
Gibbs positioned himself behind Duncan, grabbed his hips, and pushed in. Duncan stiffened, hissing through his teeth on a curse.
“Dude, I like the one I’ve got. Don’t go stretching it all to hell,” Duncan snapped.
Gibbs’ brows pulled together. He shoved away the flicker of remorse, thinking of the rapture he’d seen on Ben’s face when he thought it had been Duncan sucking his cock. That would be the image Gibbs would keep with him. That would be the payment he’d take from Duncan.
It wasn’t Duncan’s fault that Ben wanted him. Duncan was just that kind of guy. Women creamed for him. Men wanted to suck his cock. Knowing it didn’t make the truth any easier.
Gibbs slapped Duncan’s hip, encouraging him to his knees. Duncan obliged. Charlie wriggled around underneath, propping himself up to take Duncan’s dick in his mouth. That was more like it. Back to old tricks. Friends with benefits. Let them think that, while Gibbs imagined himself sinking into Ben’s willing body.
Gibbs curled his fingers into Duncan’s hip bones, unapologetically aware that there’d be bruising the next day. Sometimes sex required roughness. They all did it from time to time. Gibbs rarely came into the mix angry. Today was just his day.
He pulled out almost completely, and slammed in, hard. His back bowed and he threw his head up, imagining Ben in the darkened woods around Fletcher. He could almost smell the crushed pine, and dark sap. He could imagine the slight give of the forest floor beneath his feet, and the cries of need being swallowed by night sounds, as Gibbs claimed Ben as his own.
“Fuck, Gibbs, ease up,” Charlie growled. “I’m choking on cock here.”
“Suck,” Gibbs panted. “Shallower.”
“Don’t tell him to suck shallower. It’s my cock in his mouth, and I say swallow it,” Duncan joked good-naturedly.
“Shh,” Gibbs said, “You’re killing my wood.”
“Sorry, man. Pound away. You, Duncan, try to keep from fucking my mouth so hard.” Charlie settled in again.
Gibbs heard the slick sounds of Charlie’s mouth working Duncan. Duncan did hold himself more rigidly as Gibbs took him from behind. Gibbs reached around with one hand, cupping Duncan’s balls, as Gibbs continued to fuck his ass.
Duncan moaned appreciatively. “That’s it, Gibbs. Fuck me harder. I’m almost there.”
Gibbs flexed his hips. Ecstasy spiraled low in his thighs and groin. He clenched his eyes, bringing the image of Ben’s parted lips before him. He saw again the moment Ben came, and with that memory, Gibbs bellowed. Cum rushed from him, filling the condom.
Gibbs rocked to a stop. Duncan reached behind with one hand, holding Gibbs ass against him, as he too, swore loudly into orgasm.
“Fuck, yeah,” Duncan said breathlessly. “I don’t know what got into you tonight, Gibbs, but I like when you take control.”
“Thanks,” Gibbs muttered guiltily.
Charlie poked his head out to the side. “Speak for yourself. Next time Duncan can be down here when Gibbs takes the lead.”
“Fuck that. You’re a bottom,” Duncan scoffed.
“I’m versatile.” Charlie got out from under him.
“You keep te
lling yourself that.” Duncan grinned. He dropped down on his back beside Charlie.
Gibbs carefully pulled off his condom. Usually, they’d hang out for a little while, rev up again for another round or two. Tonight, he just wanted to be alone. He’d thought fucking the guys would clear his mind the way flying hadn’t.
He’d been wrong. He still wanted Ben.
Chapter Three
One year later...
Charlie Cuelho glanced over his furry brown shoulder. His ears twitched, ruffling a little in the breeze as his constantly moving nose tried to find Duncan’s scent on the wind. Charlie had time, lots of time, so he stopped to run a soft paw behind his long ear and down his nose. He practically shivered at how awesome that felt, so he repeated the motion.
“You’re going to lose again.” A great horned owl settled onto a nearby branch.
“I’m fine, Gibbs. He’s nowhere in sight,” Charlie disregarded. Besides, having the tortoise in his sites as he won the race was exactly what he wanted. He just didn’t want to push it too close. The fact that he’d be able to laud the achievement over Duncan again and again, didn’t hurt either. There was nothing sexier than a pissed off tortoise shifter, who owed you a debt.
Since Charlie had yet to decide what that debt would be, it would only make the moment sweeter. Definitely something Duncan didn’t want to do, like kiss him whenever Charlie snapped his fingers. For an entire month. Yeah, that would be awesome.
“That’s what you said last time, and he won. You two are a cliché,” Gibson complained, tearing Charlie away from his thoughts.
“Fuck you,” Charlie barked.
He stood up on his hind legs, trying to make his exclamation sound more impressive. Which was difficult, considering he was a hare and too damn fluffy to be imposing.
“You mean, fuck like a bunny?” Gibbs made a sound like a sniff. Which wasn’t possible, technically, since he didn’t have a nose—in owl form. “I shouldn’t be warning you, but there’s a trap ahead.”
“I’ll jump it.” A movement caught Charlie’s eye, and the tell-tale scent of tortoise reached his sensitive, ever moving nose. “You know, most owls sleep in the daytime. You don’t make a very convincing shape shifter if you can’t keep the same habits.” He’d waited long enough. Duncan’s head poked from behind a bush, stretching for a better look. “Gotta go!” Charlie told the owl.
“Wait!” Gibbs called.
Charlie didn’t wait, he wouldn’t. It was just a ploy to get him to slow down enough so that the tortoise would win the race, a-damn-gain. Every year it was the same thing, laundry chores and dishes for six weeks. If Duncan had ever made him pay up creatively, Charlie might have lost on purpose. Stinky laundry and dishes weren’t creative.
Bathing Duncan for six weeks—with my tongue—now that would be hot.
Charlie raced forward, leaping over leaves and branches. His hips twisted in mid-air, knocking his long back paws together like he was clicking his heels, before they came down, dug in and pushed him off even faster.
No way was Duncan going to win another race. Not this time. No fucking way. He glanced back as he made another leap. Exultant that he didn’t see Duncan anywhere near him, he bounded happily onward. Twigs popped under his feet. Leaves rattled this way and that, with each successive jump forward. He had this race in the ba—.
His back left paw extended. Momentum carried him to a lurching stop and Charlie scrambled uncomprehendingly, when his left paw remained immobile, no matter how he shook it.
Overhead, Gibbs circled, screeching alarm. He’d be saying “I told you so”, unless the hunter was nearby to hear him.
Charlie’s heart hammered in rapid staccato beats. His keen eyes caught the flicker of movement even before he heard the crunch of boots. Charlie froze instinctively. He huddled making himself as small as possible, even though he knew it was already too late. He’d been seen, and trapped, just like Gibbs had warned.
Fuck!
“It’s okay, little guy. No one’s gonna hurt you,” the gentle voice of a man reached him. It sounded hypnotic and soothing. A voice like that could make a guy forget that he’d just been snared, and might end up as somebody’s stew meat.
Wouldn’t this dude be surprised when he tried to skin him and found a naked man instead? Charlie almost smirked. Except he couldn’t, because he was busy freaking out at the moment.
Charlie saw the radio collar too late. It closed quickly around his neck. Instinctively, Charlie bit the man, hard.
“Ow! Shit.”
I know that voice.
Gibbs dive bombed the man.
“What the fuck?” He covered his head, narrowly avoiding Gibbs’ talons. “The owl? Hunting in the daytime? Geez, I better get you out of here, little guy. I think my friend wants you for dinner. And now I’ve got to hold you for rabies.”
Rabies? Fuck you, buddy. He finally focused on the man’s face, and the unique scent of piney outdoors and male. Ben Landry? Oh, now he was fucked. Ben’s dedication showed in his work. It didn’t give Charlie any promises that Ben would slip up and let him escape.
The snare released, but as Charlie tried to squirm free, Ben grabbed the scruff of his neck. “Sorry, but you’re coming with me. I’d have let you go if you hadn’t bitten me.”
Ben held him aloft while Charlie swatted out his hind legs.
“Hey, watch it,” Ben said, annoyed.
He opened his truck door and shuffled around behind the driver’s seat before he pulled out a small cage.
“Ah ha! I knew I had one in here somewhere.”
He shoved Charlie in. “Safe,” Ben announced.
Hardly.
Panic settled a cold fist around Charlie’s stomach. Caged and collared. It can’t get any worse than this.
The cage lifted and Charlie braced himself, to keep his balance. In the brush, the heavy rustle of shell scuttling over mulch announced Duncan’s arrival.
Except now I’m gonna lose the race, too. Damn it.
Gibbs circled lower. “It was Ben Landry. He’s probably taking him back to the DNR office, but Charlie bit him, so I’m not sure. I’ll scout ahead to see where they’re going. Shift out and I’ll find you.”
“Clothes,” Duncan retorted. “I don’t like him enough to barge into civilization naked.”
“You keep telling yourself that,” Gibbs hooted as he flew off.
“I hate it when you do that? Do you have any idea how hard it is for a tortoise to look up?” He yelled after him. The rough screech was Duncan’s only answer.
Ben Landry?
Ben had tasted like the rum punch served up at the Spring Festival a year back. And there was the tiny little fact that after Ben had kissed him, Duncan had left him standing in the dark. Not that he’d minded kissing Ben, but he suspected Gibbs would mind sharing him.
Duncan could still taste Ben’s soft mouth, which was why he’d stayed away. After watching Gibbs follow Ben into the woods, at the festival, Duncan had been sure they’d hook up. Nothing had materialized yet, but Duncan couldn’t shake the feeling that it might.
It had been a long time since Gibbs had been interested in any particular guy. The way Gibbs looked at Ben carried enough longing for a sappy love story and the potential for another player in their threesome. Yet, that night, Ben had sought Duncan out and kissed him. Normally, Duncan would have gone for it except he kept imagining the hurt expression on Gibbs’ face when he told him later. So, Duncan hadn’t pursued it. He’d stayed away, and had breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Gibbs follow Ben into the dark later that night.
Duncan may have been interested in a fling, but Gibbs wasn’t the kind of guy to moon over someone. He’d deserved a chance to see if what he felt was real. And Duncan had never told Gibbs about the kiss, just in case.
It must not have worked out. Gibbs quit trying to find reasons to go into town after that.
Duncan supposed he could try for Ben now, but aside from sex, he didn’t really want to explore a
relationship with him. Duncan was more interested in seeing if Charlie could be persuaded to take their relationship beyond its current friends-with-benefits status.
Which explains why I agree to chase tail every year. As tails went, Charlie had a great one. The best. Unfortunately, he knew it, which meant Duncan wasn’t going to tell him how hot he was any time soon.
He sighed, snapped his mouth shut with a clack, and stretched out his neck. With a great heave, Duncan planted two diagonal feet, and swung the other two around until they found purchase. The muscles along his chest and abdomen, hidden deep inside the solid shell, pulled taut. There was a low hill ahead. A lump in the ground, really. This was gonna suck. He stopped to consider an alternate route.
“Fuck it,” he said, resigning himself to the climb. He nosed the ground and continued trudging forward in the direction the truck had taken Charlie.
Come back any time, Gibbs. Any time.
Duncan gathered up his strength, strength he’d been reserving for the final leg of the race until Ben had taken Charlie away, and began a fast scuttle once he cleared the mound. The underbrush was thick, dragging at his shell. Fortunately, if he had to lug his belly and stomp on sharp twigs, at least he was built not to feel it so much.
When he reached the bridge, crossing the small end of the pond, Duncan brightened. He pushed off the edge, tucking his thick, trunk like legs inside his shell. Only his nose poked out as he belly-slid down the muddy slope and splashed in the murky depths.
Now we’re talking!
Duncan paddled easily. This was the best part of being a tortoise, and the best part of the race with Charlie. Charlie hated water about as much as Duncan hated crawling over tree debris. It was the fairness of the thing. He also suspected that Charlie would have cheated by crossing the covered bridge.
Duncan tucked into the chore, gliding through the murk. A fish swam close enough to tempt him, but he resisted the urge. The bottom of the pond grew shallower. Weeds swished against his shell within the silence of the water, and he finally surfaced.
He gained solid ground on the other side and pushed with everything in him to climb the embankment. Nothing like doing tortoise pushups to invigorate an amphibian after a brisk swim. Gibbs hooted.