by Sean Michael
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Torquere Press
www.torquerepress.com
Copyright ©2003 by Sean Michael
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NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.
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Preface
The need between them never faded.
They couldn't remember the first time they made love, the first time they kissed, the first time they wanted. Raine thought they were in love in their mother's womb, fingers entwined as they breathed fluid flavored by the other's skin. Grey thought it was even before that, but he never said so. He never had to.
They were born during a storm, the gray clouds pouring life down onto the desert, the lizards and mice running, the people closing windows and pulling in laundry off the lines. Grey was first, alone in this world for a terrifying six minutes before his Raine joined him. Their mother said the morning after their birth,the desert bloomed.
They slept in the same wicker basket, then in the same crib. The same room, the same bed. They never asked for their own rooms, never asked to be separated. Grey didn't speak until he was six; Raine was his voice. Raine couldn't sleep unless Grey was there. Grey read first, Raine wrote first. They fought about the television and whether Corn Pops or Sugar Smacks were better. When they went to school, Grey did the history papers and the book reports while Raine wrote the poetry and finished the math problems. They always did poorly in science. They came in first and second in the swim meets and second and first in wrestling.
Raine slept with a girl once after a dance while Grey got drunk and threw up in the deep desert. They lasted in separate college dorm rooms for three weeks before Raine crawled into Grey's arms, shaking and hollow-eyed, tears streaking his cheeks. Grey hid his triumphant smile and held Raine as they slept for three days.
They graduated together and left for San Francisco. They never discussed it; they simply went. Grey took his photographs and worked for an antiques dealer, Raine wrote reams of poetry and organized art openings. They partied, they laughed, they played.
They spent every morning sound asleep in each other's arms. Raine fell in love with a boy, black and fine, thin boned and graceful. A dancer. Someone who could help him sleep, too. Someone who talked. Someone who thought what they did was wrong. One day Grey came home from work and Raine was packing his things into moving boxes. Raine looked at him with sorry eyes and Grey turned around and left.
It was the longest month of their lives. Grey screamed for hours until his voice died. Then he stopped speaking, stopped taking pictures, worked and slept for hours and hours. Raine simply hurt, his heart missing half its beat. When Raine crawled home one early Sunday morning, he spent hours watching Grey, tears flowing even in sleep, curled around hundreds of pictures of him. When Grey woke, Raine was in his arms, hands cupping his face.
It took two days before Grey's voice came back and it never sounded the same again.
They were never the same again. They were more.
February
He settled at the bar, asking for a draft as the bartender went by. It was delivered on the next pass and he grabbed the bowl of beer nuts, munching as he drank.
He liked O'Hoolan's. Quiet and simple, you could come here just to drink or to drink and cruise, but it wasn't loud and bright and crowded like most gay clubs. It was an honest to god bar, just with bent clientele. He stared critically at the image reflected back in the dozens of mirrors over the bar. He was a good-looking guy, looked a touch younger than his twenty-eight, light brown hair, brown eyes, high cheekbones and a firm jaw. Fuckable. His dress shirt was white, his tie one of the silly ones—the kids liked that, liked that Mr. Whittaker wore ties with cows or chickens or smiley faces on them.
So how come he was almost thirty and still single, looking to pick someone up for a night of tension relieving, hot kinky amazing sex? Of course, tonight he was willing to settle for just tension-relieving sex, and there was no guarantee he was even going to get that.
The barstools two down from him were filled, but a muscular redhead coming out of the men's room had caught his eye, so he didn't look. Well, not until he heard a deep, rich voice order a scotch on the rocks and a vodka and tonic.
When he turned his head, he blinked. Two men sat at the bar, carbon copies of each other. Dark skin, black eyes, hooked, hawk-like noses, cheekbones that wouldn't quit and the same long black hair. Either one would be good-looking, but together, they were stunning.
They were dressed similarly—black t-shirts, jeans, and leather jackets. The man farthest from him had an earring. The bartender handed the closer man the two drinks; he kept the scotch and handed the vodka over to his ... companion.
He tried not to stare, but he couldn't help himself. He watched them over the top of his beer glass, wondering what their story was. Were they together? The thought made his cock twitch hard.
They had settled, not speaking, not doing much of anything. Every now and again, the man with the earring would catch his gaze in the bar mirror, holding his eyes for a while and then looking away.
Flirting. He was being flirted with. So was Earring gay and his twin along for moral support?
The next time Earring caught his eye, he smiled. Earring pinked, smiling back and nodding once, holding his eyes for a little bit longer before dropping to his glass.
He licked his lips; trying to decide if he should move closer, let Earring know he was interested. But he couldn't just slide down; Earring was on the far side...
He asked for another beer.
The next time he looked the twins were speaking to one another, dark heads close, voices inaudible. Then, as he watched, Earring reached up and cupped the other one's cheek, stroked it once. Then Earring stood and sat one barstool away from him at the bar, still nursing the vodka.
Well, the worst that could happen would be getting shot down—wasn't anything that hadn't happened before. Swallowing his nerves he shifted over one seat. “Hi.”
Earring smiled at him. “Hey.”
Earring's voice was soft, not rough or husky. He grinned. He'd expected them to sound the same.
“Can I get you another?” he asked nodding at the vodka and tonic.
“Oh, thanks.” A wide, square hand was offered, heavy copper bracelet shining in the lights. “I'm Raine Holstein.”
He offered his own hand back, hoping to hell it wasn't too damp. “Bartholomew Whittaker. Please call me Whit.”
He couldn't help glancing up over at Raine's twin.
“That's Grey.” Raine smiled over at his twin, who gave him a slow, smoldering look, then turned to nod to Whit.
“Hi,” he managed with a nod and without squeaking. He wasn't quite sure what was going on, Raine seem interested enough to flirt at least, and move closer, but Grey looked like he was all about Raine.
“So, I uh ... haven't seen you here before—you new in town?”
Raine nodded his head. “Yeah, actually. We got here a few months ago. We own a gallery and a little antique shop. Just got things settled in finally. Decided to come and play.” Raine flashed him a quick smile. “I like playing and Grey ... well, he says he humors me, but he likes to play too.”
“Together?” he asked, probably a little too eagerly, but the idea excited him and he figured it was better to be honest and let that show than try to pretend a casualness he wouldn't be able to follow through on later.
“Yes, to
gether.” Grey's deep, gravelly voice sound as his hand settled on Raine's shoulder. He had a matching bracelet, heavy and beautiful. “Raine doesn't play without me.”
Raine chuckled and nodded, nuzzling Grey's hand. “We're a matched set.”
He smiled, the possessiveness in the tone and gesture, moving through him like a wave, hitting his balls hard. “I bet you're beautiful together.” The words just slipped out and he bit his lip. There was honesty and then there was honesty and he hoped he hadn't just blown it.
Raine blushed again as Grey chuckled and took a seat. Apparently they didn't mind honesty. “Thanks. Do you come here a lot?”
“On the weekends—it's a nice place to relax, have a beer, maybe meet someone to spend some time with, you know.”
Raine nodded. “One of the gallery artists recommended it. Said we would like it here. The atmosphere is nice, yeah, Grey?”
Grey nodded. “Not bad. Need better house scotch.”
“I've got some 10 year old Glenkeith at home.” What he wanted to know was who the hell had tampered with his brain/mouth connection, because it was working just a little too well and bypassing the make sure you really want to say it center.
A long look passed being Raine and Grey and then Grey nodded. Raine looked over. “Is that an offer, Whit? To share a little scotch and maybe play?”
He forced himself to think about it. To really think about it. All he kept seeing was these two guys making love while he watched and he knew, even if that's all it turned out to be, he wanted it. “Yeah, it's an offer.”
Two sets of identical black eyes glittered at him and then the guys nodded and stood as one.
Raine smiled as Grey helped him on with his jacket. “Should we follow you? We're on the Harley.”
And that ladies and gentlemen was the sound of his cock bursting through his zipper.
“I'm-” he cleared his throat. Twice. “I'm not that far—I walked.”
“Oh, okay. Should I walk with Whit, Grey?”
“No. Drive him home, Raine, and then come back for me and we'll go together.”
“Okay.” Raine gave him a smile and tilted his head. “Wanna ride?”
Not trusting his voice he just nodded. He was harder than Hell—he sure hoped the Holstein brothers really were into honesty, ‘cause if he had to ride behind Raine, the man was going to know just how turned on he was right now.
“Cool.” The brothers led him outside where the sleek black motorcycle waited. He was handed a helmet and then Raine hopped on, patting the seat behind him. “Where to, Whit?”
“Maple, just off Washington.”
He put on the helmet, and climbed on behind Raine, putting his arms tentatively around the man's waist, trying to keep his crotch away from Raine's ass. Raine's body was strong, solid, and fucking hot in his arms. The Harley roared to life, vibrations running through his crotch. “Hold on tight, Whit. She's a great ride, our little lady here.”
What the Hell. He tightened his arms, letting himself mold to Raine's back. Between the vibrations from the Harley and the heat from Raine, he was pretty sure he was heading for a pretty decent orgasm before they went two blocks.
Raine's ass moved against him as they rode. The brothers were solidly built, not body-builders, maybe, but not skinny guys. Strands of the long hair escaped from inside Raine's jacket, moving over his cheeks, his arms. He just closed his eyes and enjoyed it: the scent of leather from Raine's jacket, the hard body in his arms, moving with the motorcycle, the hair against him. He might have whimpered a little, he might have moaned a little. He definitely held on tighter, pressed closer. He wanted to rub against that fantastic ass.
They pulled off onto Maple, the Harley purring. “Which house, Whit?”
He pointed it out and they pulled up into the driveway, the angle pushed Raine's ass into him. He gasped and pushed back. “We could always circle the block a couple of times,” he suggested, only half-joking.
“Later. Grey will worry.” Raine's ass rocked against him. “We want Grey to play, Whit. He growls, but he can make you scream.”
That brought another gasp out of him and he rolled once more against Raine's ass and then quickly got off the bike before he rubbed himself off against Raine in front of the whole fucking street. He handed the helmet back to Raine, hands only shaking a tiny bit. “I'll leave the door unlocked.”
“Cool. We'll be right back.” Raine reached out, stroking his cock once with that square, hot hand. “Wait for us.” Then Raine backed the bike down the driveway and headed off. He just stood there, blinking, trying to find his breath, watching the empty street.
He was still there when the Harley came back around the corner.
Raine grinned at him as they pulled up, Grey's hands framing Raine's cock, thumbs working against the tight denim. “See, Grey. I told him to wait.”
Grey moved his hands and stepped off the bike, stepping right into his space. “So you did, Raine. So you did.”
He swallowed, looking up into the dark brown eyes. Grey had a presence, an aura of danger and roughness about him that Raine was lacking. It was a little scary and a lot sexy.
“We should get off the street,” he suggested.
“Yes.” Grey's eyes closed for a moment as Raine's head appeared beside his own. When they opened, Whit was the focus of those four dark eyes again. “We should.”
It was only the thought of Mrs. Jawelsk peering out at them, ready to spread as much gossip as possible about the so-clean-cut young schoolteacher and his hooligan friends that spurred him to movement and he closed his own eyes and turned before he opened them again, focusing on the stairs as he went up them.
Took two tries to get the door open and then he was inside, inviting them in. The twins followed him without a word, walking through his foyer, into the living room.
He wanted to touch them so badly. To be touched. Fuck, he was hard enough to pound nails. He forced himself to the shelf where he kept his liquor. “Whiskey all around?” he asked. He thought maybe his voice gave his need away.
Grey's voice was close, breath whispering against the nape of his neck. “Later.”
Oh, thank god.
He relaxed back, moaning as Grey's body was there, like a wall behind him.
“You were right. He does smell good.” Grey's cheek brushed against his neck, inhaling deeply.
Raine's hand slid over his hip, a matching caress to the other side of his neck. “Yes, Grey. Warm, spicy.”
“Oh...” His eyes closed and he was breathing heavy and shit, he was this close to coming and wouldn't that be fucking embarrassing—in his pants just like that, but fuck—this was like some sort of fantasy coming true.
Hands slid over his stomach, his crotch, his nipples, breath hard on his neck. Grey's voice growled low and rough, “Going to make you come first, then we'll play.”
A soft tongue slid over his bottom lip, Raine's breath sweet. A sound left his throat, part whimper, part moan, part something breaking and then he came, body shaking hard against the solid wall of warmth against his back.
Raine made a sound and then his lips were taken in a kiss, hot and hungry, yet sweet. Grey was whispering in his ear, seductive growls that joined with the hard cock rubbing against his ass to start his own cock filling again.
Oh, god, they were going to kill him absolutely dead, and he was going to enjoy every fucking minute of it.
He kissed Raine back, mouth opening wide as he reached out, fingers holding warm, supple leather. Raine's mouth was eager, tongue sliding deep, exploring and tasting. Grey's tongue moved on his neck, teeth scraping. He was trapped between the two of them, surrounded by flesh and leather and hair and it was fucking hot. His cock was hard, eager again and nobody had even started taking off a single article of clothing.
Raine's mouth left his, dark eyes shining. “Tastes good too, Grey. Want to try?”
With that Raine's head tilted and Grey pushed forward, rocking them all together as two identical pairs of lips
met in a deep kiss.
He whimpered, legs giving out, only the hard bodies pressed against him keeping him upright. He was right—they were beautiful together.
Their lips parted and another long, silent look passed between them. Then Raine's eyes met his. “We need to sit, to touch, Whit. Too many clothes. Where?”
“The bedroom?”
“Yes.” Grey nodded, cock rubbing against his ass again.
“It's that way,” he said, pointing to his right, eyes locked with Raine's beautiful deep brown.
Raine took his hand, leaning forward for another soft kiss. “Show us, Whit.”
“Oh, right.” He stepped forward, hoping he'd be able to stay upright without Grey's support, because he was embarrassing himself just fine here already. “It's this way.”
Grey and Raine bracketed him, hands joined at the small of his back. Grey leaned in, lips just brushing over the hollow beneath his ear. “Let's go play.”
A shudder went through him and he walked faster, leading them into his bedroom. The queen size bed, an indulgence he was glad of right now, dominated it. The bed was covered with quilts and pillows and comforters, a riot of color in the otherwise somber room. Dark bookcases, loaded with books, covered most of the walls except for where the dresser took over the job.
“You read. Grey reads.” Raine smiled at him as the jacket was shrugged off and set aside.
“The t-shirt, too.” Grey's voice filled the room, a deep growl. Another shudder went through Whit and he watched, breath coming a little quicker as Raine lost the t-shirt.
The man was beautiful, skin dark and smooth, long black hair shinning. Along with the copper bracelet he'd noticed earlier, Raine wore a chain around his neck with Grey's name on it and one of his nipples was pierced.
He might have whimpered.
Instead of a ring in the nipple, it was a barbell.
He did whimper.
“Isn't he beautiful, Whit? Doesn't he make you ache, wanting to fuck him?” Wide brown hands brushed over his shirt, plucking at the fabric. “Now you. Let me see you.”
