Tuck retrieved the cards and returned to the table. He began to shuffle the deck. Brendan was watching him. None of them had showered or shaved that morning, in their effort to conserve water and fuel. A sexy blond stubble showed on Brendan's jaw and cheek. Jamie's cock ached with appreciation.
"What should we play?” Tuck asked. “Not gin. Jamie's too damn good at remembering every card."
Jamie had a better idea. “Let's play Blackjack. Only let's spice it up a little. Blackjack Truth or Dare. Except instead of a dare, if you don't answer the question, you have to drink a shot of vodka. We'll play face up, since we're not betting. Whoever wins gets to ask the question to whoever he wants."
"Oh, I don't know—” Brendan began, his voice wary.
"Sounds like fun,” Tuck interjected eagerly. “Come on, Brendan. You chicken? Got some secrets in that closet of yours you don't want us to know about?"
Brendan flushed and Jamie held his breath, waiting for Brendan to nix the idea. To his surprised delight, Brendan flashed one of his gorgeous smiles. “What the hell. Let the games begin."
Tuck dealt two initial cards to each player. Jamie had a ten and a five, Tuck a three and a seven, Brendan a king and a two. “Jamie?” Tuck nodded toward him.
"Hit me.” Jamie tapped his cards. Tuck dealt him another five.
"Not bad.” Tuck frowned appreciatively.
Jamie put a hand over his cards. “I'll stand."
Tuck turned toward Brendan, who nodded. Tuck dealt him a nine. “Whoa, twenty-one in the first hand. Way to go, Brendan."
"Pure luck.” Brendan shrugged but looked pleased.
Tuck dealt himself a two. “Twelve. I'm feeling lucky. Let's see what I get.” He flipped over another card. It was a queen. “Busted. So Brendan gets to ask the question, right?"
"Yep.” Jamie nodded, curious who and what Brendan would ask.
"Since Tuck lost, we'll start with him.” Brendan shifted so he was facing Tuck and seemed to ponder the question. “Okay. How old were you when you lost your virginity?"
"That's easy. I was seventeen. It was in the back of my parents’ car with a girl I'd been dating for a few months. It was basically a disaster."
"Details,” Jamie blurted, intrigued. Was Tuck truly bisexual or had he just been experimenting with a woman, as so many gay guys did before they recognized or felt free enough to admit their true orientation?
"Hey, you're not asking the questions.” Tuck laughed. “Asked and answered. Let's play another round."
"Oh, come on,” Brendan urged, surprising Jamie. “Tell us the details."
Tuck poured a shot of vodka into his glass. “Okay, but I'll need this to get me through it.” They laughed and Jamie found himself relaxing for the first time since Tuck had held him in his arms. Even the wind outside seemed calmer. Tuck tossed back the alcohol, winced and shuddered. “That's rough.” He made a face.
"Bet the second one will taste better,” Brendan offered.
"And the third one even better,” Jamie added.
Tuck grinned and leaned back in his chair. “Okay. You guys sure you want to hear this?"
"Quit stalling,” Jamie teased.
"Okay, okay. Let's see. It was the dreaded senior prom. The dance was in full swing. We slipped out to the parking lot to smoke some weed. She produced a condom from her purse and said, ‘Happy anniversary.’ We'd been going out six months or something and we'd yet to go all the way. I wasn't terribly excited about the idea of my first time happening in the back of a car, but on the other hand, I was seventeen and being offered the chance to lose my virginity. So I seized the moment, as they say.
"It was kind of awkward. She was wearing this evening gown thing with lots of extra slips and stuff, but we finally got it hoisted up around her waist. She had on stockings and a garter belt, I remember that. I was in a rented tuxedo of some color not found in nature. We kind of made out for a while and groped each other. I must have made it in about one inch and then I came. It was all over in like three seconds."
Jamie shook his head and Brendan laughed. “Wow, that's even worse than my first time."
Tuck grinned. “We'll have to find out about that. I'll deal another round.” He dealt the cards and this time Brendan came up the loser and Tuck the winner. Tuck, predictably, turned to Brendan. “Okay. So tell us. When and how did Dr. Brendan Aaronson lose his virginity?"
Jamie expected Brendan to hem and haw, but he launched right in. “I was barely nineteen. She was twenty-two."
"An older woman.” Jamie raised his eyebrows.
"Yep. She was a grad student. I was a freshman. She was tutoring me in French and well, one thing led to another and I found myself in her bed. We weren't lovers, we weren't in love, but she was eager and I was a nineteen-year-old guy, which of course is synonymous with horny. I probably lasted a full three minutes longer than Tuck, though."
Tuck dealt another round, and as if it were planned, this time Jamie lost. Tuck was again the winner and he turned to Jamie. “Okay. Your turn. Spill the beans."
Jamie hesitated. Did they really want the truth? Obviously Tuck could handle it, but what about Brendan? What the hell. What was life without risk?
"His name was Jordan. I was eighteen. He was twenty.” He stared at Brendan, daring him to react. He couldn't read Brendan's expression. He glanced at Tuck, who nodded and smiled encouragingly. “We'd been hanging around together for a while. I met him at school—he lived on my floor in the dorms. He had his own room and I had the roommate from hell, so I was always in his room.
"It started in that most typical of ways—a back massage.” He glanced at Tuck, who was, he saw, watching Brendan. What was it between them? Closing his eyes, he forced himself to focus on his memories. He hadn't thought about Jordan Decker in a while. Jordan had gone to Africa the semester after they met to do volunteer work and Jamie had lost touch with him.
"It was my freshman year. I hadn't come out at that point. That is, I knew I was gay, but I hadn't told anyone. He was openly gay. I mean, flamingly flamboyant.” Jamie laughed at the memory of his eccentric first lover. “He wore the most amazing getups. He would shop at the thrift stores and show up in red plaid pants, a white silk pirate's shirt, a long, brightly painted scarf slung over his shoulder, black boots and a fedora. He managed to pull it off, though. I was always in my uniform of a T-shirt and jeans. I guess we were a strange couple, but it worked for us.
"He introduced me to all the delights of male-male sex. He was slow, deliberate and gentle. I was really lucky, in retrospect. He was a great lover. I nearly failed that semester, though, as I recall.” He laughed and was pleased to note not only Tuck, but Brendan laughed with him.
"To first times.” Tuck poured them each a shot. Jamie drank and grimaced. Tuck was right—it was pretty vile, with no crushed ice and orange juice to mask the taste of the pure grain alcohol, but the accompanying warmth spreading quickly through his bloodstream made up for it.
He closed his eyes, remembering. Jordan used to suck his cock for hours, drawing him nearly to climax over and over. Jamie spent every spare moment naked on Jordan's bed, his cock in Jordan's hot, eager mouth.
It was several weeks before they worked their way toward anal intercourse. Jordan was a top, never on the receiving end of anal sex. This was okay with Jamie, especially as Jordan kept him on the edge of orgasm for so long that by the time Jordan had lubricated and entered Jamie, it only took a few strokes with fingers and cock to make him shoot everything he had. Over time he came not only to tolerate, but to crave the penetrating invasion of Jordan's cock snaking its way inside him.
"I'm hungry.” Tuck cut into Jamie's musings. “What time is it, anyway?"
Brendan looked at his watch. “It's seven fifteen already. How time flies when you're having fun.” His tone was dry, a sardonic grin on his face. “How about something extravagant, like more canned soup and some peanut butter on a spoon? We ate the last of the crackers at lunch."
Jamie giggled a
nd realized he was drunk again—for the second time in a day. Not that he had any particular reason to want to remain sober. If marathon sex wasn't in the offing, maybe a weeklong binge, or however long it took for the weather to abate, was the next best option.
After dinner they decided to continue their card game in the sleeping quarters. “Let's put our quilts around one of the space heaters,” Tuck suggested.
"Hey, cool.” Jamie moved toward the light switch. “We'll turn off the lights. It'll be like a campfire."
Brendan glanced sharply toward Tuck, who met his gaze. Was he recalling that night as well?
They settled around the space heater, which cast a red light over them, softening and suffusing as it radiated through the room. Jamie poured them each more vodka while Tuck shuffled and dealt the cards.
Jamie won the first round. “My question is for Brendan. Remember, you have to answer the question and be truthful, or drink a shot."
It was evident to Brendan from the slur in his speech that Jamie was pretty drunk. But then, they all were, as they'd been drinking most of the day. He stretched out, leaning up on one elbow so his head was near Tuck's thigh. Tuck sat on crossed legs caddy-corner to him, with Jamie on the other side of the heater.
"Okay, shoot."
"Have you ever fantasized about being with a guy?"
Brendan felt his face heat, though he'd expected something along these lines. Briefly he considered refusing to answer and drinking the liquor instead, though he knew he'd had enough. He glanced at Tuck, who was watching him with those soulful eyes.
"Yeah, I guess I have."
"You guess?” Jamie laughed.
"I answered the question. Time to move on. Deal us another round, Tuck."
"Hey, no fair,” Jamie interjected. He too had stretched out along his quilt.
"What's not fair about it? You asked, I answered."
"These scientist types are slippery,” Tuck joked. “You can't put anything over on them."
He dealt another round. This time Brendan won. The liquor had loosened his tongue. He decided to ask the same question of Tuck. “What about you, Dr. Tucker? Ever fantasized about being with a guy?"
"He's done more than fantasize,” Jamie chortled. In the uncomfortable silence that followed, he added, “Man, I'm smashed. We're gonna have serious hangovers in the morning.” He punctuated his remark with a loud slurp from his juice glass.
Tuck looked embarrassed. Brendan cursed himself for asking the question. For a moment he'd actually forgotten the guilty pulling apart from what Tuck claimed was just a massage, and then later the muffled, telltale sounds of sex behind the door. Jamie might be drunk, but Brendan decided he himself wasn't drunk enough.
"Gimme more a’ that.” He waved his empty juice glass in Tuck's direction. Tuck poured from the bottle, which was already nearly two-thirds empty. The question hung unanswered in the air—too late to take it back.
Tuck answered. “Um. Yeah. I have. Yes.” Brendan glanced at Jamie. He was lying flat on his back now, his eyes closed, his hands clasped loosely over his flannel-covered chest. His lips lifted and curled into a grin at Tuck's response. Brendan felt a sudden nearly overwhelming urge to wipe that knowing smile away.
Jesus, what was wrong with him? Was he jealous of them? Of Jamie for already having what, or rather who, he wanted? He turned to Tuck, who was watching him, his expression beseeching.
"What? What is it, Tuck?"
"You,” Tuck mouthed.
"Me?"
Tuck nodded, clutching the vodka bottle. They were all hiding behind and in the alcohol, Brendan realized. So where was the courage that was supposed to come along with the buzz?
A soft snore issued from Jamie's lips. Tuck and Brendan looked at each other and smiled. Tuck leaned over Jamie, brushing his long bangs from his face. The easy intimacy of the gesture at once moved and hurt Brendan, adding to his emotional turmoil.
Tuck drank deeply from his juice glass and let it tumble to the floor beside him. Screwing the cap into place, he pushed the bottle aside. He held his hands out to the glowing heater. “It's like before,” he whispered. “Do you remember? Last summer. The campfire?"
Did he remember? Brendan had relived every moment of that night at least a hundred times in his head, no matter how many times he'd tried to forget it. They'd sat so close they might have been on each other's laps. Tuck's strong thigh had pressed against his own, their hands shifting over denim, pretending it was an accident each time they touched. Then Tuck's comforting arm around his shoulders, holding him close, making him feel safe and warm. His skin had burned for days with the memory of Tuck's touch, his heart aching with a longing he'd refused to permit himself to acknowledge.
"Yeah. I remember."
Tuck shifted until he was lying down, his head close to Brendan's, his body perpendicular. Brendan's arm was sprawled out by his side. He stared up at the ceiling, softly illuminated by the heater. The unforgiving storm continued to pummel the dwelling, but they were, for now at least, safe and secure inside.
Brendan wanted to talk more about last summer, about whatever it was that had gone on between them, if anything at all. But first he had to know if there was something between Tuck and Jamie. His eyes fixed on the ceiling, he dared, “What's going on between you two? The truth."
There was a long silence. Brendan closed his eyes and waited, willing his mind to go blank. Finally Tuck answered. “I don't know. It just kind of happened. I guess I've been aware in the back of my mind that he's gay. We work together back in California, you know. He always kept to himself both there and here, so it never occurred to me before to ... I don't know. I was just so focused on you—"
Tuck drew in a sudden breath, his last words hanging in the air like a bubble that, if Brendan reacted, would burst and disappear. He said nothing, waiting. Tuck blew out the breath and continued, letting the bubble pop.
"Today it started with me trying to comfort him. He was so keyed up I thought he was going to jump out of his skin. You know, he's a seriously good-looking guy. I guess things just progressed from there."
"I heard something. I heard sounds when I was in the kitchen—” Brendan cut himself off, embarrassed.
"Oh. Yeah. Um ... well, yeah. I guess something kind of happened. I mean, but not, you know, like out-and-out sex. We, uh, we kissed. We fondled."
Tuck offered no further details, nor was it, Brendan knew, any of his business. He tried to come to terms with his conflicting feelings. One part jealousy, one part hetero indignation at the thought of two gay guys groping each other in the next room, one part arousal at the very same thought. Throw in sexual desire for not only Tuck but now for Jamie as well and Brendan realized he didn't know what the hell he was thinking or feeling.
It was possible they wouldn't be rescued. They all knew it, even if none had so far voiced it in such stark terms. There was a chance the blizzard would rage so long it would be too late. Winter, with its perennial darkness and howling winds, would settle over them like a shroud.
He might die without finding out just what and who he really was. If his feelings had been meteorological in nature, they would have conjured a tornado to rival the storm outside.
He did know he liked lying beside Tuck. There was an easiness to it, no doubt fueled by vodka, but nevertheless, he felt good just being near him. Tuck touched Brendan's arm and despite the layers of fabric between them, a shiver of desire moved through Brendan from Tuck's fingers.
A funny thought entered his head and because he was drunk, he said it out loud. “We're like those Colonial people, you know, when couples were courting and they wrapped them all up, fully clothed and swathed in blankets and put them in bed together to ensure no sexual contact?"
"Bundling,” Tuck answered. “A strange ritual, to be sure.” Tuck sat up and began to unbutton his shirt. “It's plenty warm by this heater. Take off your outer shirt, why don't you?"
Brendan sat, a sudden dizziness assailing him. With fumbling fin
gers, he managed to unbutton his shirt and push it from his shoulders. He looked over at Jamie, who hadn't moved, his chest rising and falling in the deep, slow rhythm of sleep. He looked back at Tuck, who had already removed his flannel shirt. Tuck's undershirt was black and molded to his broad, strong shoulders and muscular chest. Brendan realized he was staring and turned away. He also realized he had a hard-on, sprung to full life in his trousers.
He lay back down, turning his body slightly away, in case Tuck had witnessed his erection. Tuck, too, lay down. He squeezed Brendan's forearm. Brendan held himself still, unsure what was happening or what he was ready to have happen.
"Brendan.” Tuck's voice was low. “You should know something. Ever since last summer, I've thought about you a lot. It was such a crazy coincidence to get tapped for this project and then find out you were on it too."
"Yeah. That was a coincidence all right."
"I'm glad we reconnected. This is going to sound nuts, but in a way I'm glad for this blizzard. I mean, you know, if it means we can finally find out. If there is anything to find out ... about us. About, you know ... things between us..."
Hope flared in Brendan like a warm, sparkling light. Yes, Tuck had admitted there was something with Jamie, but it was clear there was also something between them, between Tuck and himself, something Tuck seemed as eager to explore as he did.
They turned toward each other and scooted closer until their faces were nearly touching, their heads creating the point atop a triangle of which their bodies formed the two sides. Brendan's heart was jerking like a rubber ball bouncing against the walls of his rib cage, his lips tingling and aching in anticipation.
Oh Jesus, he's going to kiss me. He's going to kiss me. Brendan closed his eyes, surrendering himself to the whirl caused by the alcohol and the thrumming in his blood.
"You're trembling.” Tuck's voice was gentle, concerned. “You okay?"
Brendan opened his eyes. “I don't know. I've never done this. And Jamie..."
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