by Tanya Chris
“Even when he said those things about how he’d been using you? Even when he left you alone with her to get the pole?”
“Yeah, even then. I mean, I was freaked out. Who wouldn’t be with a gun to their head? But I knew Pyotr was on my side.”
Joe shook his head. He laid his arms over Tanner’s where they wrapped around his waist and squeezed. He didn’t know if he’d have been as trusting. He hadn’t been, had he? Pyotr had told him to back off, to let him handle it, and he hadn’t listened. He’d nearly gotten Tanner killed running off the way he had, leaving Tanner in Green Tea’s clutches because he thought he knew best. If either one of these two men had died as a result, he’d never have been able to forgive himself.
“Stop,” Tanner said into his ear, as if he knew which way Joe’s thoughts ran. “We’re all OK. It’s all going to be OK.”
Suddenly the warmth and the water weren’t enough anymore. He turned in the circle of Tanner’s arms and pulled their mouths together. Water ran over their faces, streaming through their kiss so that the kissing was like drinking from a water fountain. They took each other in like water, like air, like kissing was another thing that kept them alive.
He pulled back so he could scan Tanner’s face. “Feeling OK?”
Tanner didn’t answer, just joined their mouths again. Tanner’s dick hardened against his and his was already all the way there. The adrenalin caught up with him in a rush, going straight to his cock in the form of blood and tingling nerve endings. He needed to take all the powerlessness of those hours up at the landing zone and work it out through physical action.
He reached behind Tanner and turned off the water, then steered him out of the shower.
“Towels?” Tanner said laughingly as Joe kept pushing him out of the bathroom and over to the bed.
“I’ll dry you off,” he said and proceeded to do that by licking him.
Tanner giggled. “Not getting me drier,” he protested, but his body squirmed up willingly against Joe’s, the slick of the water making them fluid against each other, easing the friction of his hairier body against Tanner’s smooth one.
Both of his lovers were smooth, Tanner by nature and Pyotr courtesy of his own hand. Tanner’s body featured soft tufts of light hair here and there, a little streak between belly button and groin, a few stray hairs around each nipple, down on his calves, whereas Pyotr’s chest and abdomen were hairless, his groin a tightly trimmed manscape, his calves showing the true extent of the blond hair that would erupt over his body if he didn’t maintain it.
Joe liked it either way.
His tongue flicked at the downy hairs as he circled Tanner’s nipple, biting gently to test his reactions. Tanner arched up into his mouth, eager and responsive, whimpering and grabbing at his hair.
“Good or bad?” he asked, freeing his teeth and giving the nipple one last lick.
“I don’t even know.”
It was such an adjustment, coming back to your body after a long period of having lived outside of it. He kept his strokes gentle, though the hard heat of Tanner’s cock against his rib cage told him Tanner might like it rough just fine. There was time for both of them to learn what he needed.
The falseness of that sentiment hit him hard. The whole time he’d known Tanner, Tanner had been about to leave him, and nothing had changed. Pyotr and Tanner were going to DC. Both of them.
“Joe?”
“Sorry.” He’d gotten distracted enough with worry about the future that his erection had drooped and he’d neglected Tanner’s. He re-dedicated himself to it, licking his way down Tanner’s body until his mouth joined his hand where it wrapped tightly around the hard length.
“You don’t have to,” Tanner said, and Joe laughed.
“Trust me when I say I want to.”
He fastened his mouth over Tanner’s cock and showed him how much he wanted to, sucking and licking with all the enthusiasm that came from having almost lost what was in his hand and knowing that in a day or two he would lose it. This moment—this was the one he needed to concentrate on, because this was the only one he had.
Tanner squirmed under him, and his sounds grew more urgent. Tanner’s fingers tugged at the strands of his wet hair, slipping through them. The dampness of the shower became the dampness of exertion. He brought a hand to his own cock, stroking it as his mouth continued moving up and down Tanner’s, matching the rhythm of his own arousal to where he judged Tanner was at.
Closer. They were both closer, very close. He slowed, letting them drift in that space just before the moment of inevitability, lingering at the junction between pleasure and release.
“Yes, yes,” Tanner whispered, his body going pliant aside from the rock-hard cock. Oh, to be that young again. Tanner was so hard, his cock straining at the confines of its own skin, eager to burst, and Tanner was so abandoned to it, lost in the high of sexual pleasure, soaking it in without self-consciousness or concerns about reciprocation, taking everything Joe gave him.
He might have been able to slow down Tanner’s orgasm, but his own was screaming at him, calling loud and urgent and just off the edge of his consciousness. His hand sped up on his cock almost against his will as the pleasure crescendoed, and his mouth mimicked the motion, bringing Tanner with him. They came within moments of each other, twin bursts of semen hitting his hand and his mouth.
“Fuck,” Tanner groaned. “It’s true isn’t it, about near-death experiences making you horny.”
“Think so.” He went to wipe his hand on the bedspread, then realized how rude and unsafe that was and got to his feet to go wash his emissions off himself.
“Where are you going?” Tanner complained.
“Be right back.”
“You always do that. Always leaving.” Tanner’s tone was petulant, but his voice was sleepy and by the time he returned to the bed, Tanner was mostly asleep. He crawled onto the bed with him and Tanner sought him out automatically, rolling towards the source of warmth in the air-conditioned room.
Tanner was right, he realized, he was always leaving. He’d thought it was Pyotr and Tanner who were planning to leave, but really, wasn’t it him?
Chapter 22
Tanner
Pyotr showed up with the pizza just as Tanner was thinking about asking the agent outside their door to bring them something. He’d woken up from his nap hungry, his stomach thoroughly emptied of the questionable tuna fish sandwich courtesy of a couple of bouts of nausea.
Pyotr and his pizza were what he needed, and Joe needed them even worse. The longer they’d waited for Pyotr to arrive, the more nervous he’d gotten.
“You know he’s fine,” Tanner had said.
“I know he’s alive,” Joe had agreed, but his expression suggested that he was worried about something other than Pyotr’s continued existence.
Pyotr dropped the pizza off on the little round table in the corner of the room and disappeared straight into the bathroom as he and Joe descended on it.
“We might need two of these,” Joe said, having already inhaled a piece while Pyotr had been in the bathroom.
“I can send someone out for another if we need it, but that’s for you two. I’ve eaten.” Pyotr threw himself down on the bed, landing like it was about time he got horizontal. “Eat up,” he told Joe, “because you’re going to need your strength.”
Joe winced as if Pyotr meant something specific by that, but Tanner was lost. As far as he knew, they had nothing to do for the rest of the night except eat and sleep and fuck around a little. Maybe Pyotr was planning to ride Joe hard, which he had to admit he’d enjoy seeing. He’d had a solid orgasm a couple of hours ago, but he could definitely be up for another one if he got a show first.
He ate his pizza slowly, reminding himself to chew every bite thoroughly so it’d settle easier, watching Joe swallow his seemingly without chewing at all. The pizza was worth savoring—still hot, like it must have come from somewhere close by, and loaded with cheese and grease on a thin crust.
The perfect pizza and maybe the first food he’d eaten in a long time that he really wanted, that tasted good.
They made steady progress through the pizza until there was only one piece left. Joe eyed it until Tanner said he couldn’t possibly eat any more and then wolfed that one down too.
“More?” Pyotr asked. “Anything you need, just tell the guy outside the door.”
“Are we prisoners?” Joe asked.
“Well, Tanner is, sort of. And you’re a material witness. They’d probably let you leave as long as they knew how to reach you. Do you want to leave?”
“Not if this is where you guys are.”
Tanner tried to ignore the uneasy churning of his stomach at the thought of being a prisoner. He’d known there were going to be consequences, but he wasn’t excited about facing them, and if he thought about them now, the pizza that had gone down so easily might come back up just as easily.
“Are you staying?” he asked Pyotr.
“I have you in custody.” Pyotr winked. “You’ve heard of good cop, bad cop?”
“Are you the good cop or the bad cop?”
“Depends who’s asking.” Pyotr came over and gave him a lingering kiss. “For you, I’m a very good cop. But for Joe?”
Pyotr moved around to Joe’s side of the table. Joe rose and took a step backwards. Pyotr kept advancing until he had him almost against the wall.
“You’re free to go,” Pyotr told him. “Do you want to leave? I’m giving you a last chance.”
Joe’s eyes were wide and there was a faint tremble up and down his entire body, but he shook his head. In a move so fast Tanner didn’t even see it, Pyotr had him smashed up against the wall face first. He yanked Joe’s arm back and up, twisting it so it must have tugged painfully at Joe’s shoulder. Joe was bigger than Pyotr, and Tanner knew he was strong, but he didn’t resist. Instead he arched back, bowing his body to sway with Pyotr’s will.
“What did you do wrong, Joe? Tell me.”
“I didn’t listen.”
“Didn’t listen, didn’t trust me to do my job, got in the way of me doing my job.” Pyotr yanked on Joe’s hand. Joe squeaked out a whimper of pain and rose higher on his toes—bending, still bending. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed. You almost got Tanner killed.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” He heard the anguish in Joe’s voice. “I’m so sorry.”
“Tell Tanner you’re sorry.”
“I’m sorry. I took Pyotr away from you when you needed him most.”
“It’s OK,” he choked out. He didn’t want Joe to be sad. “You didn’t meant to.”
Joe shook his head and Pyotr wrenched his arm up again until Joe shrieked. Joe’s other hand pressed against the wall as he made no attempt to free himself or fight back.
“Did you mean to, Joe?” Pyotr asked. “Did you mean to put anyone in harm’s way?”
“No!”
“No,” Pyotr said, his voice less harsh now. “Your heart was in the right place, but you made a mistake. What are you going to do next time?”
“Listen. Obey.”
“Obey,” Pyotr repeated. “Not in everything, but when it’s my job, when I’m trying to keep you and Tanner safe, I want you to obey.”
“I will,” Joe promised. “I’m sorry.”
“Good boy. Do you need to be punished for your mistake?”
Joe dropped his forehead against the wall with an audible thunk. “Yes.” There was still a haunting note of anguish to his voice, but also relief now, gratitude. “Yes, please.”
Pyotr leaned into him and kissed the back of his neck once, then straightened. He used his free hand to unfasten the button on Joe’s jeans and yank them down over his ass.
“Step out of those,” he ordered.
Joe shimmied around until he’d worked his clothes all the way off both feet.
“Spread.”
When Joe shifted his feet wider, Pyotr released his arm and moved it, arranging both of Joe’s hands against the wall in a spread-eagle pose.
“Now stay.” Pyotr took a step back.
Joe looked over his shoulder. “Don’t you have handcuffs?”
In a moment, Pyotr was up against his back again. “Do I need handcuffs,” he growled into Joe’s ear.
“No.”
“I didn’t think so” Pyotr fastened his teeth on Joe’s neck and shook his head side to side, pulling at the flesh.
With Joe’s pants off, Tanner could see that he was hard. It gave him the permission he needed to stick his hand down his own pants. His feelings were so mixed—a combination of horror and arousal, fear and excitement. His heart beat as rapidly as though he were the one Pyotr had pressed up against the wall, but his dick was hard and wet.
Pyotr left Joe against the wall and headed for the pack he’d dropped near the door. He winked at Tanner as he went by. Tanner’s eyes followed him, even as his hand worked himself below the waistband of his sweat pants. Pyotr put on a condom and lubed up his fingers, then returned to where Joe had stayed as ordered, facing the wall, twitching with anticipation.
“I said spread.” He kicked Joe’s feet wider, then plunged two fingers into his ass.
Joe arched and a soft, shattered ah came from him. Tanner grabbed his dick harder around the base, nearly ready to come, same as it sounded like Joe had almost come himself. Choked sounds continued to escape from Joe’s tightly-pressed lips as Pyotr worked him ruthlessly with his fingers.
“Good boy,” Pyotr murmured. “You see? Good boys get rewards.”
He removed his fingers and, faster than Joe could have seen it coming, impaled him on his dick, fucking into him with long, hard strokes, his fingers forming white pressure points on Joe’s hips, slamming him forward and back.
Joe’s fingers scrabbled at the wall as though he might be able to gain purchase on it. His chest heaved and something like sobs came out of his mouth as he hauled in great gulps of air and let out anguished gasps of pleasure and pain. Tanner had never been witness to such raw sex, never known he might like it, but nothing could’ve torn him away from his front row seat.
When Pyotr wrapped a forearm around Joe’s neck and hauled back hard, Joe came—the sound and semen rushing from him in synchronized bursts. His come painted the wall in front of him. His arching body accepted Pyotr’s final thrusts as Pyotr came too.
“Holy shit,” Tanner said. He squeezed his dick so hard it hurt.
Pyotr pulled free from Joe’s ass and Joe crumpled to his knees. Pyotr leaned down and said something into his ear. Tanner couldn’t hear the words, but he could hear the tone, knew that it was gentle and approving. Then Pyotr turned to him and his hand froze on his dick. Was Pyotr going to fuck him like that?
He knew he was turned on. He knew he liked being fucked. But Pyotr was so thick, so strong, and he’d been so rough. Not just commanding like Joe sometimes was with him, but rough in a way he wasn’t sure he wanted. He didn’t mind being treated like he wasn’t breakable, but he didn’t want to actually be broken.
“Shh, Tasha.” Pyotr knelt in front of his chair and took his dick from him, gently running his own hand over the swollen shaft and sensitive tip. “That was for Joe, not you. Old communist principle: to each according to their need. Joe needed me to do that. You understand why?”
He nodded. Joe had been wracked with guilt. Now he was forgiven.
Pyotr lowered his mouth over Tanner to give him his second blowjob of the day, a thoughtful, precise blowjob, not frantic or sloppy with spit like Joe’s earlier assault. From each according to their ability, to each according to their need, Tanner thought as his pleasure twisted higher. Yes, this was what he needed from Pyotr—the tender care, the firm attention.
Joe watched them with peaceful eyes from his position on the ground, his dick soft and his eyes soft too, flickering up to Tanner’s face and then down to where Pyotr’s mouth stretched around his dick. Tanner looked down so he could see it too and the sight of this hard man handling him so gently was the
final stimulus he needed to push him over the edge.
He came on a wave, the jittery sensations that Joe and Pyotr’s rough fuck had aroused transitioning to a warm and easy cloud of pleasure that broke over him like rain.
Pyotr knelt up and kissed him, transferring the salt of his own ejaculate. When Pyotr removed the condom that hung from his mostly limp dick, Joe climbed to his feet and held out his hand for it, but Pyotr shook his head.
“No, you don’t. I’m wrapping this up in toilet paper and throwing it in the trash, the same as I would for any condom. You go lie down.”
He could see Joe struggle to obey, but he did. He went over to the bed and laid down, just like he’d been told. Tanner crawled in next to him and Joe pulled him over, wrapping him into his chest. A moment later, Pyotr was there too, pressed into his other side.
A hard body to his right, a hard body to his left, two chests rising and falling in stereo breathing. Perfect.
~~~
Pyotr had escorted him to the interview, but it was just him and Agent Roderigo in the windowless room now. Agent Roderigo was a stocky woman with short, very dark hair and a gun on her hip. She wasn’t trying to be intimidating, he could tell, but he was intimidated. He was intimidated because he was in a police station being questioned by a CIA agent and even though his boyfriend, who was waiting out in the lobby for him, had said that everything would be OK, he didn’t feel OK.
Agent Roderigo took him through his story and then, when he’d got to the end, to the part where Pyotr put a bullet through Holly’s head while she stood right behind him, a part that still made him shudder, she took him back to the beginning and made him say it all again—about his dealer’s initial suggestion, about the first contact, about the plans he and the Russians had made to meet at Longline.
He’d already turned over his phone, but the app he’d used to talk to Green Tea deleted messages automatically after a period of time, so Agent Roderigo asked him a lot about what had happened before the CIA had caught on to them. He answered as best he could, but the more questions she asked, the more flustered he got.
