One Night Only

by Jane Davitt




Blair knows that if he'd told them the truth about his age he wouldn't be here, lying between them in a tumble of comforters of the floor. No, wait; the deck. Yeah. The moving deck because the boat's rocking as the summer storm rages outside.

It's dark and the rain's striking at the windows (portholes, God, it's like another language…) but he's got two warm bodies on either side of him and his world's reduced to hands and mouths and the rub-dig promise of their dicks nudging his stomach as they kiss over him.

Yeah, he's not the main attraction, not for these two; he gets that, he does, and he doesn't even mind. Tomorrow, he'll be gone, but something tells him that these two aren't going anywhere. They're solid and he's taken advantage of the tiniest of cracks and worked his way between them for just one night. It's cool. Really.

Just like it's cool how old they are. Fifteen or more years older than him; almost old enough to be his dad. He pushes that thought aside -- revenge is bad for the karma and hell, it's not like his dad will ever know how many men he's done this to -- and smiles at them beguilingly, the wavering light of the battery-operated lantern making them shadowy figures, though they feel solid, strong where they're touching him.

"Hey, don't forget me."

Nick smiles at him with a kindness he doesn't deserve. "Sorry, kid." Blair gets kissed then, with a mouth flushed and swollen from all the attention Cody's given it. It's like being kissed by both of them at once and he moans and arches up eagerly, his hand brushing Cody's erection, his other hand clamped on the meat and muscle of Nick's ass.

"We've got all night," Cody murmurs and he sounds amused even as he drags his hand over Blair's chest (knuckles grazing Nick's skin as he does it). "Keep up like this and you'll wear yourself out before midnight."

"Two of you and one of me," Blair says. "More fun if you're the ones wearing me out. Or aren't you up to it?" Nick frowns. Oh, yeah, he's competitive that one. "Want to see who can still get it up after we've gone a few rounds? I know some tricks…"

Nick's hand lands firmly, but gently, across his mouth and before Blair's able to jerk his head away, Cody's pinning him down. Fuck, they're going to hurt him, they're going to --

"Kid," Nick says so quietly Blair can hardly hear him over the panicked thrum of blood in his ears, "we're not into proving ourselves like that and we're not into games. If you want that, go back to the bar and take your chances with the men who were looking at you like you were meat and they were hungry. You're in our home because we liked you and you needed a safe place to stay."

"And you're in our bed because --" Cody gives Nick an inquiring look. "Damned if I know what you saw in him."

"Me?" Nick blinks. "I was going along with it because I thought you wanted him."

"Me?"

Blair's not scared anymore, but he's mad as hell. He bites Nick's hand until it's snatched away, Nick grinning, and glares up at them both.

"Hey! Isn't anyone going to fuck me?"

Nick kisses him consolingly on the corner of his mouth and Blair realizes, with a dawning indignation, that he hasn't fooled them as much as he'd thought. "Not when you're still seventeen, kid, but if you come back next summer, look us up…"

It's not all bad. They make him pancakes for breakfast and slip him some money for food that he finds twenty miles down the road, just when the pancakes are a distant memory and he's decided it's time to head home before the semester starts.

It's months later that he comes to see they gave him a lot more than breakfast and some creased dollar bills.


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