Backlash

by Jack L. Pyke

  “Jan.” Gray brushed a kiss over the curve of his ear. “I can feel this...” He let his touch inch down farther, stopping every so often to see if Jan stopped him. When he didn’t, Gray finally came to rest with the flat of his palm on Jan’s lower stomach, just below the navel. It left Jan’s hard cock trying to strain through wet swimming shorts, up against the back of Gray’s hand; heat, hotness, and a different wetness needed to find some peace in the confines of his swimming shorts. “Talk to him.”

  “We talk,” said Jan, looking sideways at Gray. “We talk about touching, about being comfortable, about taking it easy, saying time out, about Jack maybe getting back into BDSM... but...” A little anger set in. “I just can’t reach across the fucking table and tell him to shut the fuck up and look at me when he’s talking.”

  Stroking at the toned skin on Jan’s lower stomach, his cock shifting with Gray’s touch, Gray kissed gently at Jan’s cheek. The fear in those soft brown eyes was to the core.

  “What are you scared of?”

  Jan’s head rested against his. “That he’s just talk. That he’ll run. I’ll touch; he’ll fall and hurt—”

  “You?” Gray wiped at Jan’s cheek.

  It was almost there; he almost admitted it, that fear that Jack would slip and—

  “Martin,” said Jan. “It’s just, I’m....”

  Gray shifted his hand away from Jan’s cock and brought his touch up to rest just under Jan’s jaw. “You don’t think he knows?” he said. “That he’ll fall and he’ll take you down with him?”

  Jan glanced back sharply. “What’s he said?”

  Gray gave a heavy sigh, then pulled away. “Okay,” he said as Jan turned around, looking a little confused.

  “Come with me.” Gray flicked his head slightly towards the stairs.

  “Why?” Jan didn’t join him for a moment. But when Gray carried on, he tidied himself up and came over. “Where are we going?”

  “Kitchen,” said Gray, with a wink, as he opened the door for him.

  Chapter 9

  Trust

  The sound of voices from the kitchen nearly had Gray losing his step. Ed’s low tones came through, interspersed by Jack’s rougher London accent, and there seemed an ease to it that had him narrowing his eyes back at Jan. Jan seemed just as puzzled as they pushed on through to the huge kitchen, and grossly oversized space, in his opinion.

  Ed was over by the coffee percolator, looking down at his hand. Jack was there, telling him to keep still as he tried to put a damp cloth against it. He still couldn’t quite meet Ed’s eyes, but there was a look to his touch that was tentative and serious as he nursed Ed’s hand.

  There was a little jerk from behind off Jan, maybe the worry that something other than just an accidental burn had taken place, but Gray eased a hand to his back, calming him down. The handle to Ed’s favourite mug was on the floor, the mug itself sleeping on the unit and having lost some of its coffee.

  “I’ll need a new one,” said Ed, and Jack snapped his glance over, catching sight of them for the first time. He eased away, hands going in his pockets.

  “Nothing to do with me,” he said, then something seemed to switch inside him and he suddenly threw an arm around Ed’s shoulders, startling the life out of Ed. “Right, Gramps? Tell him I did nothin’.” Jack gave him a sideways glance as he patted his chest too. “I can call you Gramps now that we’re, y’know, family?”

  Gray raised a brow as he went and picked up the handle off the floor. “Good... chat?” he said to Ed, only to have Ed twitch his eye in response. “What did he do?” Gray looked at Jack. “What did you do?”

  “Washed up,” said Jack.

  “Washed up?” said Gray.

  “He”—Jack pointed at Ed—“left his mug around, so I tidied it up.”

  “You said you’d washed up.”

  “Service and a wash, yeah.”

  Jan choked a laugh, and Ed groaned. “I turned around to get the evening paper. The mug was still full; I left nothing hanging around—”

  “And I tidied it up for you.” Jack folded his arms, giving a very stern school teacher look as Jan sniggered a chuckle. “I try and look after you,” added Jack, “and all I get is bitched—”

  “Jack,” warned Jan.

  “Bollocked at,” said Jack, then he grinned and hugged Ed a little closer. “You want to make coffee again, you just let me know, okay, Grumps?”

  “You said Gramps before,” said Ed.

  “Yeah? Fuck that, we’re not that close.” Jack let him go, wiping his hands down his clothes as if he’d touched a pot of grease. But as he finished wiping his hands, he took hold of Ed’s and opened it to run his thumb down the length. “Keep it dry, and for god’s sake don’t go with Mrs Booth’s advice over using butter on it. You’ll bake the skin.”

  “Aw, you’re all heart, Jack,” said Ed, a wry smile creeping up. Jack gave a snort and pulled away.

  “They’ve got some nice mugs over in Wales,” added Ed, making sure he looked at Gray. “I’ll get the private jet ready, shall I?”

  “Yeah,” murmured Jack. “A few assholes there too. Or ones trying to thumb their way back. You know you only have to ask and I’ll give you a lift, free of charge—brass band playing all the fucking way.” Jack started to hum the English National Anthem.

  “Oh, not as dumb as you act, then,” said Ed.

  “Not as dead as you look,” Jack mimicked in the same tone.

  “Yeah, pack it in, you two,” said Gray, and he waved Jack over. “You. You’re with me.”

  Jack looked behind him as if hoping someone else was there. “What? Me? What the fuck did I do?”

  “Now,” said Gray, leaving Jack scowling.

  “In there.” Gray pointed into the main hall. Darkness had set in and it left Jan switching on the side lights as he went in. Jack lingered, eyeing Gray up and down. Gray waited, waited a little more, then even added a shift of head to make his point. Jack waited just a moment longer, dropped his look, then started mumbling something as he padded on in after Jan.

  Seeing them both head for one of the tables away from the main wood floor, Jan taking a seat and Jack slipping his ass onto the table, then deliberately inching over to Jan every few seconds, causing a smile off Jan, Gray left them there for a minute. He kept a supply cupboard just down the hall, and Gray headed on in, eyeing up a few things. Three items in particular took his attention, and he picked them up, slipping two into his trouser pockets, then carrying the other one.

  By the time he made it back to the hall, Jack had pulled Jan to his feet, leaving Jan to face the door as Jack cuddled in from behind. Jan had lost his smile as he glanced down at the arm circling his waist.

  Face him, stunner. Stop hiding behind him. “Okay,” said Gray, stopping in the middle of the hall floor. He crooked a finger at them both. “Here.”

  Jack’s ears pricked, his lift of head from kissing lightly at Jan’s throat stopping as he looked over. He eased away from the table, gently pushing Jan aside, then taking hold of Jan’s hand and tugging him onto the floor after him.

  They stopped by Gray and Gray shifted behind Jan, a gentle touch on his shoulders making sure he faced Jack, making sure they faced each other with only an arm’s reach between them.

  Coming around to Jack’s side and letting his light touch trace from Jack’s back to his side, Gray leant in close to his ear. “Strip for me,” he said quietly.

  Jack’s hand shifted to cover his hip.

  “Boxers stay on.”

  “Gray,” breathed Jan, reaching instinctively over to cover Jack’s hip, only to have Jack pull away slightly.

  Gray stopped Jack backing up any farther with a brush at his jaw. “Will you trust me, please, stunner?”

  There was a moment of questioning, a slight flare of something deeper, hopefully a wander back to first touches here, lost in Gray’s bedroom... Jack moved his hand, grabbed the hem of his V-shirt, then tugged it over his head. There wasn’t even a
ny folding of it, just a tossing it aside as calmness set in, which eased everything inside Gray. Even Jan seemed to pick up on a shift of something as he watched Jack kick off his trainers, his socks, then ease the loose jogging trousers down. It left him wearing very snugly fitting Calvin Klein boxers, and Gray couldn’t help but let a dirty smile creep up at everything Jack unconsciously offered.

  “Thank you,” he whispered, leaning into Jack’s ear. “Fucking stunning.” Jack turned to him a touch, his cheek brushing Gray’s. Permission so easily given, unconsciously, instinctively—then almost pulled back in the same instant as memories took over instinct, and Jack shivered. “Easy,” Gray said in a soft tone.

  After brushing a kiss at Jack’s jaw, Gray stepped over to Jan. He stood shoulder-to-shoulder with him, and with just a shift of head, he let his touch find Jan’s jaw. Jan’s look had stayed with Jack, but it shifted to him in that moment and a sad smile was given.

  “I can’t go naked, Gray. Please don’t make me.”

  “I know,” he said, understanding how hearing that would have stung Jack. About as much as Jack not being able to get naked had stung Jan a few moments ago. “Swimming shorts. Keep them on.”

  The question of why was there, but Jan found Jack again, and keeping that soft focus, he undid the tie to his robe and slipped it off his shoulders. It found a place next to Jack’s T-shirt.

  Jack’s quiet ease of breath came as Gray made sure no clothes were near them. Jack had a clear view of Jan’s semi straining against the wetness of his swimming shorts. For all of the slim frame Jan offered, the soft core and vanilla taste, the heat between his thighs was impressive even as just semi-aroused.

  Gray leaned in and brushed his cheek against Jan’s as Jan hugged his stomach. On contact, he closed his eyes, knowing the guts that it had taken for him to stand before Jack like this. “Somewhere along the line you fell in love with him,” he said softly in Jan’s ear.

  Jan found Gray’s gaze.

  “Thank you,” Gray added quietly, briefly kissing at his cheek. When he pulled away, the confusion was there on just who that was meant for. He offered Jan a smile before stepping back and holding up one of three bottles he had with him.

  “Massage?” Jack had read the labels first and Gray rolled his gaze hearing Jack rub his hands together. “Yes... fucking... please.”

  Gray unscrewed the lid and went back by Jack. Jack eyed the bottle of oil, no doubt listing the ingredients and dissecting them to OCD extremes. “Floral-based,” said Gray as he tipped some on his hands from one of the large bottles.

  “You need three huge bottles for that?”

  Gray said nothing as he started on Jack’s shoulders and neck first, loving the sheen it gave to his supple skin. Next came Jack’s back, then chest and the contours of his abs that had its own echo of the Welsh Valleys: streamlines and dips, where the body would, and had, come away wasted and weary from the trek.

  “Lower, lower,” said Jack, looking down and waggling his eyebrows as Gray knelt. “Yeah, baby, just left a bit, right. Oh yeah. Right... down... there.”

  Gray started on his inner thighs, making sure he rubbed pretty much every available inch, moving as close to his groin in the process. Despite the heat in Jack’s voice, he was still soft. Head and heart were there, but there still seemed that physical slip, that fall. Concerned, Gray eased to his feet. “You okay, stunner?”

  That smile faltered, just slightly.

  “Do you need this to stop?”

  Jack flicked a look at Jan and something else eased into his eyes. “No,” he said in a hushed tone, “whatever this shit is?” he added back to Gray. “Because you know usually we discuss a suh-suh-scene beforehand.”

  Wasn’t a good sign. Gray picked up on the slight stutter. “Not a scene, Jack.” He offered a smile. “You know anything to do with D/s is always discussed prior to a scene, and we haven’t done that. It’ll come. Just not yet. This... this is just a massage. My way.”

  Jack smiled; it even reached his eyes. “Oh well, then. Continue.”

  Gray left him there thinking, and shifted back to Jan. Waiting for a minute to get the nod, Gray then started on Jan’s shoulders, pressing against him from behind, and carried on paying attention to the paler twists and soft turns to Jan’s slender body. He’d lost life between the thighs, too, but it had been expected.

  “’Kay,” said Jack as Gray eased to his feet. “Now what, Boss?”

  Gray took the other two big bottles off the floor, opened them up, then tipped one over and around Jack’s feet. He did the same with one over Jan’s feet. Then, just for good measure, he took a step back and made sure he circled them both with the last of all three bottles.

  “All done,” said Gray. “Night, lads.”

  “Huh?” said Jack, roughly about the same time Jan did too. “What the—”

  Gray turned away, and—“Fuck,” cried Jan. Gray had caught Jan’s step away from Jack to follow him, and Jack instantly grabbed at Jan’s arm as Jan nearly slipped on the oil.

  “Gray,” snarled Jack, not sounding happy, “this isn’t funny. It’s bloody dangerous.”

  “You forgot the fucking in there,” said Gray, moving over to the light switch and flicking it off. It left the lights of the fountain outside sending soft ripples of blue, red, and greens into the hall, and Jack again crying out as he tried to save Jan from landing on his ass.

  But the oil on Jan’s arms made it impossible to grip, and left Jack landing flat on his back. It was the whole reason behind why Gray didn’t leave, just watched. Because the moment Jack fell—he swept Jan’s legs from underneath him, taking him down too, and Gray knew this was where things could get very... very... interesting.

  Chapter 10

  Respect... Passion

  In the darkness of Gray’s hall, the semidarkness suddenly came alive as Jack took Jan down: scrambling from slicked-up feet and hands, followed by cries and startled shouts of anger and grunts as body slumped into body. But as legs and arms tangled, fighting to grip onto something to get them back on their feet, snorts of laughter snuck in with the disgruntled cries.

  “Fuckssake, Jan, just....” More scrumming on the floor, the slip of slicked-up feet and—“Feet... put them there, hands... here.”

  Gray tried hard not to laugh. Jan was doing a very bad impression of Bambi, hands either side of Jack’s head, legs spread open, muscles quivering and looking very unsteady as he tried to push up and—

  “Fuck.” Jack huffed as Jan crashed back down. “Careful, fucking careful,” laughed Jack, coming in to hold him but also closing his legs and protecting his own crown jewels. “You’ll hurt yourself and my pole-dancing equipment, soft lad.”

  “’Kay, ’kay, I got this,” breathed Jan between chuckles. “Hold on, hold on.” He brought a knee up between Jack’s legs.

  “Careful—careful....”

  “Lift your fucking leg up, Jack.” Jan was now on his elbows, going full doggy position over Jack, with his knees pulled up, but every time he moved, the oil on the floor played devil and he’d nearly slip.

  “What good will my fucking leg do there?”

  “I can sit on it,” said Jan.

  “Oooh.” A snort. “Wanna sit on my lap now, boy...”

  “Fucking pack it in,” choked Jan. And as Jack tried to bring his leg up, just dig his heels in, he was left slipping and scrambling at the floor to gain a foothold, getting nowhere very fast.

  Jan dipped his head, doubling with laughter.

  “Not funny,” said Jack, and the hurt was there in his voice as he still tried to find a footing.

  “You look like a hamster on a wheel,” snorted Jan, and Jack tried it again only to make Jan worse and leave Jack choking out, “Oh come the fuck on.”

  “Aww. It’s your age, Jack,” said Jan. “Comes to us all, old bones and all. But I heard Viagra works a treat.”

  “Fucking...” Jack tried to come back with something, but settled for a hard and fast play fighting,
with light jabs to the ribs. They were suddenly just a mass of arms, legs, and snorts of laughter again as Jan tried to get away and dodge Jack’s assault.

  Then something seemed to change, fall quiet for just a second. Jan was flat on top of Jack and both watched each other. Breathing shifted into something heavier, more so on Jan’s part, his body pulling less and less away from Jack’s, more hurried to join back, dip his hips a little more, let oil mix with oil, body slip against body.

  “Christ.” Jack stretched, back arching slightly, breath hitching; then he seemed to ground himself very quickly in what was happening to Jan. Jack’s hand came up to cup the back of Jan’s neck, the other on Jan’s back, encouraging the dip of hip, the slide of body on body as Jan’s heavy breath steamed the darkness of the hall. Jan seemed to pull away, now looking down on Jack again, and Jack’s hand slipped from cupping the back of his head, now resting on Jan’s jaw.

  It was there, probably for the first time in months, that look between them; how exhausted they were with the hide and seek, how they needed to get back within the comfort of just looking. Of looking and finally being allowed to look without fear of what came out of the shadows, or out from behind the cover of a hurt lover’s gaze.

  Lips met after only a moment, and it was such a chaste, deep, and personal kiss that Gray wished he wasn’t here: it was a kiss that needed privacy, that needed time alone in the darkness to heal rifts and spark better memories, but then Jan dipped his head into the curve of Jack’s neck, now biting, hands gripping under and at Jack’s shoulders as he held on, just cried out the heat his rutting body screamed into the darkness.