Wild Angels

by Bethany Brown

  Looking up at him from under a mop of curly hair, Julian smirked. “You wanna lead now?”

  If Patrick started leading, there was only one place they were going to go, and it was not such a great idea in a public place with Julian’s boyfriend a few feet away. “Bad plan. You lead. I’m injured, and your boyfriend’s bigger than I am.” Besides, they’d walked that road years ago. It had been a bad idea then, and it was a worse one now. Patrick didn’t think he could go through that mess twice.

  “I’ll let you in on a secret,” Julian said. His movements had taken on a hypnotic quality. “Jack gets really horny when I make him jealous.”

  “You don’t say.” The devil in question had just segued into a slower, louder song with crashing guitar and rasping vocals. God, could the man sing. The combination of Jack’s voice grating low in his ears and Julian’s heat against his body had Patrick’s head spinning. “I never would have guessed.”

  They were so caught up in the rhythm that Patrick didn’t even notice when the amplifiers on stage switched off and someone flicked on the stereo until Jack tapped him on the shoulder. Patrick pointedly removed his hands from Julian’s ass, after he was sure Jack had seen them there. He squeezed with both hands first, just for good measure.

  “Hey, slutcake. Unhand my boyfriend for a minute, will you? I want a dance before we head home.”

  Patrick backed off gladly, copping a feel of Jack’s bum as he passed. The older man acknowledged him with a wink, and then Julian melted into his arms, immediately absorbing all of his attention.

  That was all right with Patrick. His arm was starting to throb. He fell onto a barstool beside Roz, who looked like she’d also been recently discharged from the dance floor, and promptly stole her rum and coke. He knew he’d already had enough to drink that Julian wouldn’t be sedating him later on, and he needed something to dull the pain in his shoulder or it was going to be a very long night. Christ, he’d gone and got himself all worked up, and he wouldn’t even be able to jerk himself off properly. It just wasn’t the same if he could only use one hand.

  Patrick downed the drink in two long swallows and then coughed. It was a double. “Damn, Barracuda, you’re a tank.”

  Roz raised her eyebrows at him and then gestured to Gord for two more of the same.

  Flashing her a grateful grin, Patrick sagged against the bar, breathing deeply. “Hold this,” Roz told him, sliding a drink over. “Left hand. And turn around.”

  Patrick did as he was told. Roz hopped off her stool and stood behind him, fingers playing lightly at first over the tense muscles, then more firmly. It hurt like a son of a bitch, and the ice in his glass rattled warningly. “Jesus, Roz—ow! That fucking hurts!”

  “Take it like a man. You’ll thank me later.” She dug her thumbs in.

  Patrick took a long sip, rum burning all the way down, and then shrugged mentally and finished the rest of the drink.

  Roz’s hands on his shoulder gentled and then finally stopped. The fierce throbbing had dulled to an almost bearable ache. “Someday you’re going to have to teach me that.”

  “What did I tell you?” she smiled. “Looks like the taxi’s leaving. You’d better get going.”

  Patrick kissed her on the cheek. “Thanks, sweetheart. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Patrick followed Julian into the house and tugged off his boots, muscles knotted in all sorts of uncomfortable places. Between his physiotherapy session with Roz and the dancing, he should have been exhausted, but instead his body seemed to be surging with adrenaline. He groaned inwardly. Sleep was going to be difficult tonight—he’d been drinking, so there was no way Julian was going to give him a sedative. He would just have to….

  Jesus. He would just have to watch while Julian dropped to his knees and started nuzzling Jack’s crotch through his jeans right there in the hallway. Jack had a hand in his hair, though with the low light Patrick couldn’t tell if it was in encouragement or not. Either Julian had forgotten he was there, or he was just too horny to care. Patrick’s mouth went dry. “Um… guys?”

  He was pretty sure he wasn’t drunk enough to be hallucinating this.

  On the other hand? Hot. “Uh, you do realize I’m still here, right?”

  He just caught the edge of Jack’s grin in the darkness as he pulled Julian to his feet and pushed him up against the wall instead. “You can look but you can’t touch.”

  Now there was a thought. “It’s not nice to tease. Don’t make me promises you aren’t going to keep.”

  Julian yelped from where Jack had him pinned. There was the distinct rattle of a belt being unbuckled. “You just fed right into his public-sex kink,” he warned with a throaty moan.

  Patrick was unconvinced Jack was the one with the public-sex kink. “Oh, really?” Maybe he could still salvage the evening, after all.

  Jack paused in his assault on Julian’s mouth to drag him toward the staircase, throwing Patrick a backward glance. “You coming?”

  Far be it from Patrick to turn down an invitation like that. A brief but vicious battle was fought in his brain, with the reasonable half pointing out what a bad, bad, terrible idea this was, while the less rational, more horny part of him countered with “holy shit, this is going to be so hot.” Rationality lost spectacularly. Live porn would definitely go a long way toward relieving all the tension he’d worked up tonight, even if it was all just Jack’s macho display of ownership.

  “You’re free to make some suggestions,” Julian offered casually, undoing the buttons on Patrick’s shirt as soon as he got close enough. Jack’s hands pulled it off his shoulders and dropped it onto the stairs. “I’m all ears.”

  “All hands is more like it,” Patrick commented automatically. With Jack’s hands roaming up his chest and Julian’s on his ass, his body was on sensory overload.

  “You’re the one who was pinching my ass earlier.” Halfway up the stairwell, Patrick was still stuck in the middle, but that didn’t seem to hinder Jack from manhandling Julian up against the wall and holding him there with his mouth.

  “Don’t think I didn’t see that, by the way,” Jack put in, pulling away momentarily. Patrick could feel Jack’s erection pressing against his ass. “Let’s move this party upstairs.”

  “Yes, please,” Julian chirped, leading the way. “Faster, if possible.”

  “Aw, Ace, I missed having you boss me around.”

  “Don’t get used to it,” Jack drawled, giving Patrick a smack as he followed Julian up the stairs. “Scribbles.”

  What the fuck? What kind of a non sequitur was that? Patrick turned so quickly at the top of the steps he almost fell, but Jack caught him by the hand before he could. Patrick followed his gaze, which was tracing a meaningful path down his arm to the angel tattoo. “Oh, shit, you do remember.” Instinctively, Patrick jerked his arm back. His head was spinning, and this time it wasn’t just lust and booze.

  “You can just relax,” Jack said dryly, closing the door to shut the dog out. “I told Julian at the bar as soon as I figured out where I knew you from.”

  “Who’s the slutcake now?” Patrick snarked. He’d recognized Jack almost from the first moment, but what was he going to say? Hey Julian, guess what? Your boyfriend and I hooked up a couple of years ago for a no-strings, sex-filled weekend in Calgary? Julian had enough issues with boyfriends sleeping with ex-boyfriends already.

  “Like he said—relax,” Julian soothed, taking Patrick’s other arm and tugging him back onto the enormous bed. Now that he had both hands free, Patrick concentrated on getting his pants off. “Think of yourself as the director. You just sit there and give—” Julian was momentarily interrupted by Jack pulling his shirt over his head, “—directions.”

  Patrick watched as Julian’s T-shirt was thrown to a far corner of the room and then directed—ha!—his attention to more pressing matters. And speaking of pressing…. Now stripped down completely, he slowly rubbed his left hand over his growing erection. In front of him, Jack’s hands w
ere traveling slowly over Julian’s firm body, working his nipples into tight little buds before dancing across his stomach. Jack went for his fly, exposing yet another perfect pale inch of skin. Then another. Then—

  Patrick swallowed, hand stilling. There was a black-and-gray mark being revealed just above Julian’s hip. “Goddamn, Julian, you got inked?”

  “Hmm?” Julian said, arching obscenely into the caress of Jack’s palms on his skin. “Oh. The tattoo.”

  “Yeah, the tattoo.” The perfect curled lines of the caduceus were stark against the flat skin of Julian’s stomach. “When did that happen?”

  “About—” Julian gasped, lifting his hips as Jack jerked his jeans off. “Eight months ago or so, I guess?” He swore as Jack grazed his teeth across it. “What is it with you two and the tattoo? I have other interesting body parts.”

  It was pretty, delicate, and intricate, and the contrast against Julian’s skin made Patrick’s mouth water. Jack seemed as fascinated as he was, bent over Julian’s pliant body with his mouth pressed open against the design. Patrick could see his tongue flicking out, tracing ownership into the flesh; Julian was effectively pinned between Jack’s arms and upper body and couldn’t do much but writhe and enjoy the light touches.

  “You’re blocking my view,” Patrick finally interrupted. If Jack and Julian wanted him in charge, he was at least going to see what he wanted to see.

  Jack’s gaze flickered up to meet Patrick’s briefly, his lips quirking up in a quick smile. “Where do you want me?”

  Patrick debated, but only for half a second. “Get him up further on the bed.”

  Jack did, with Julian’s compliance. Now Patrick could see both of him in their entirety, both Jack’s broad, muscular body and Julian’s leaner one. Jack’s erection was straining obviously against the front of his jeans, creating a sizable bulge.

  “Julian. Help him out, would you?” Patrick suggested, keeping one hand on his own cock. “That can’t be comfortable.”

  “My pleasure.” Julian turned onto his side, throwing a leg over Jack’s hips and pulling his shirt up, pushing it under his armpits. Jack’s body was almost as firm as Patrick remembered, though a few of the sparse hairs on his chest were grayer. Of course, Julian got distracted at that point, with Jack’s arms raised obligingly over his head and the broad expanse of his chest under Julian’s hands. Patrick certainly couldn’t blame him. Still. There was something different about the way Julian was mapping out his boyfriend, carefully, like he was making sure everything was the way he left it. Jack hummed happily as Julian licked across his collarbone, pausing to suck up a red mark right in the centre.

  “Sometime today, Julian,” Patrick reminded him dryly. “Before Jack’s dick strangles itself.”

  “Thanks for that,” Jack huffed as Julian finally yanked his shirt off. Patrick could imagine what the sensation of Julian squirming on his lap was doing to him. The pressure would be just right, Julian’s sinuous movements a delicious torture, the rough filter of Jack’s jeans a barrier to keep it all from becoming too much.

  Jack sat up a bit to watch as Julian crawled down his body, only stopping when his nose was level with the button of Jack’s jeans. He pressed his face to the fabric for a long moment, working his hands up Jack’s inner thighs so that eventually they cradled his erection. Slowly, Julian threaded the top button back through the denim loop and then curled his fingers into the waistband on either side of the fly and pulled until the zipper gave.

  Jack was wearing plain dark boxers under his jeans, but Julian fit his nimble fingers under those as well, tugging the material down until Jack’s erection sprang free, dark and thick and hard. Cutting a sideways look at Patrick, Julian raised an eyebrow, hands spanning Jack’s thighs.

  “Don’t let me stop you,” Patrick encouraged, curling his fist loosely around his own prick.

  Julian licked his lips—Patrick had almost forgotten what a slut he was for sucking cock—and went to town, wetting Jack’s erection with a few teasing flicks of his tongue before sliding his mouth all the way down with a happy groan. If Jack’s answering moan was any indication, Julian was even better at this than Patrick remembered.

  Jack threaded his fingers in Julian’s hair and held on for the ride. Ignoring the slight ache from his right shoulder, Patrick cupped his balls in his other hand, transfixed by the way it looked, Jack’s glistening cock disappearing again and again into Julian’s mouth. Julian’s dick was hanging heavy between his legs, occasionally brushing the side of Jack’s thigh. With every not-quite-accidental touch, Julian made a low sound, and Patrick could practically see his fingers tightening their grip on Jack’s legs. Subconsciously, he found himself echoing Julian’s rhythm.

  “Stop,” Patrick commanded, hardly recognizing his own voice.

  Julian looked up at him, eyes shadowed, lips glistening, and slowly let Jack’s cock fall from his mouth. “Spoilsport.”

  “Shut up,” Patrick told him. “I want to see Jack fuck you.”

  “I knew I liked you,” Jack smirked, releasing Julian’s hair and reaching back with one long, well-defined arm. He fished under the pillow behind his head until he came up with a bottle of lubricant, which he flashed at Julian. “C’mere.”

  Julian crawled up Jack’s body until they were face-to-face, their bodies pressed up together. Patrick ruthlessly choked his own erection, which wanted to spurt at the sight of their cocks brushing. As Julian ducked his head for a long, slow, wet kiss, Jack snapped the cap of the lube open.

  They’d obviously had plenty of practice with this position—with Jack’s long arms, he could reach Julian’s ass easily. Patrick’s mouth went dry as he watched Jack prep Julian, circling his hole twice before penetrating the outer circle, pushing in fast and deep. He could feel Julian’s resultant groan in his own chest, could almost see Julian relaxing those muscles, welcoming the invasion. His back dipped, bringing his now-leaking cock into sticky contact with Jack’s stomach.

  “Jesus,” Patrick muttered. “Give him another one.”

  Julian broke the kiss with a gasp when the second finger slid in beside the first, his head thrown back, eyes shut tight. He moved his body in time with Jack’s little thrusts, riding those fingers, face flushed with obvious pleasure. “God, yeah,” he said, circling his hips. “More.”

  “Not yet,” Patrick directed, wanting to drag it out.

  “Patrick, I hate you. Jack, harder.” Flushed, muscles trembling, he fisted his hands in the sheets.

  “What did you do to him?” Patrick gasped. “He’s like a sex-crazed little monkey.”

  “You mean he wasn’t always like this?”

  “Good point.”

  “I am right here.”

  “Slower,” Patrick commanded, feeling a little mean. Julian’s eyes shot open and speared him with a brief glare, which would have been more effective if he hadn’t also let out a little moan. Jack was apparently taking Patrick’s directions and adding his own little twist; he might have slowed down, but he was going deeper than ever. From the constant gasping noises Julian was making, Patrick made a guess that he was massaging Julian’s prostate steadily.

  “What now?” Jack asked idly. Patrick didn’t know how he’d missed it, but at some point the older man had taken himself in hand, stroking his own dick as Julian rode his fingers.

  “One more,” Patrick instructed, following the movement of Jack’s fingers in Julian’s ass with his own hand on his cock.

  There was a momentary pause while Jack added some more lube, and then Julian was cursing loudly, begging for Jack to quit fucking teasing and fuck him already.

  “That’s enough,” Patrick decided, breathing heavily. “Stop.”

  That earned him another glare from Julian, which Patrick didn’t really get, since Julian had asked for this. Patrick didn’t think the glare would last too long after his next instruction. “I want you to ride him,” he explained.

  Julian’s cock twitched hard against his stomach, leaving a
smear of clear fluid. “Jesus. Yeah.” He lifted himself up, letting Jack’s fingers slip out of him, and reached down to steady Jack’s dick. “Finally.”

  “Cheeky,” Patrick managed, but his attention was focused on the way Julian’s body was opening, the expression on his face as Jack’s cock speared him open.

  “Shit.” That was Jack, hands braced on Julian’s hips, tendons popping so obviously that Patrick knew he was keeping Julian from moving.

  Julian’s head was lolling on his neck, his features painted with ecstasy, eyes half-closed. In the light spilling in from the window, Patrick could see his pulse fluttering in his neck. After a long moment, his eyes opened again, liquid and dopey, looking straight down at Jack, fingers curled tightly in against Jack’s shoulders. Someone—Jack, Patrick guessed—made an impossibly hot noise, and the muscles in Jack’s forearm flexed, and then the two of them were moving perfectly in sync, Julian throwing his body down to meet each of Jack’s thrusts, no trace of a hurry, just a steady, crashing rhythm.

  Patrick picked up the pace on his own dick subconsciously, mouth going dry as he watched Jack disappear inside Julian’s body over and over.

  Julian made a low groan somewhere between desperation and satisfaction, and Patrick’s gaze flickered up to his cock, pressed tight and drooling against his stomach. Reaching for his own erection, Julian was interrupted by a particularly firm buck of Jack’s hips, the force of the thrust knocking him forward so he was bent over Jack’s chest. Jack flipped them over easily and pinned Julian’s hands to the mattress, pounding into him without restraint.

  “Jack!” Julian’s voice was almost a whine. “Let me go!”

  “God, I love it when you’re bossy.”

  “You love me all the time,” Julian said breathlessly, back arching.

  They were too involved in each other to pay Patrick any mind, faces close together. The strain of pleasure was obvious in both their bodies, muscles and tendons flexing in Jack’s tanned arms and thighs, Julian’s paler chest and stomach. It was so perfectly erotic Patrick had to curl his hand hard around the base of his erection to take the edge off.