Table of Contents

Bellhop Service by Sean Michael
Snow Bunnies by BA Tortuga
Hospitality Sweet by Chris Owen
Snow Vacation by Julia Talbot
Summer Fling by Sean Michael
Snow-Falling by BA Tortuga
King in his Sights by Chris Owen
Kink in His Leg by Chris Owen
Snow Blind by Julia Talbot
Love Boarding by Sean Michael
Spring in His Heart by Chris Owen
Reconnecting by Julia Talbot
Crossroads by Chris Owen
Vacation, Jarheads Style by Sean Michael

Bellhop Service
By Sean Michael

Jimmy grabbed Mr. Williams’ bags and took them out to the man's big black SUV. Like in the
movies. The bad guys already drove a vehicle like that. Mr. Williams was a nice guy, though.

He collected his tip and wished Mr. Williams a safe trip home before heading back into the lodge.
The sky was really blue today, sun shining brightly. Cool enough to freeze his ass off, too, his
breath freezing on his eyelashes.

He shoved his hands into his pockets and went in the employee’s entrance. He had a break coming
and he'd been smelling cookies all morning long. He hoped they were white chocolate chunk.

Those were his favorites.

He hung his jacket on one of the hooks and headed for the big kitchen at the back. It smelled even
better once he went in; there was bread baking as well as the cookies.

Chef Sandy was holding court at the staff table, the little red-head going over the day's menu with
the other cooks and the servers.

Jimmy tried to be inconspicuous as he went over to where the cookies were cooling in their trays.
There were times he wished he wasn't six feet four.

There was a grease-covered man, standing over by the stove, working on the vent-a-hood.

He snagged a handful of cookies -- white chocolate chunk and double chocolate, score! -- and
ladled himself a mug of hot chocolate from the ever-present pot. "Want a cookie?" he asked the
greased up guy.

"Dude, I so would. Put it in my mouth for me? My hands are filthy."

"Sure." He held one of the double chocolate cookies up to the guy's mouth, shoving it in. "So you're
the new handyman, huh?"

"Yep. Cameron Mills." Well, it sounded more like 'cam'n ills.'

"I'm Jimmy Maloney. I'd shake your hand, but it's kind of ick." He bit into one of the white
chocolate cookies. Oh, man. Sandy was the best cook ever.

Cameron chuckled, leaning under the vent-a-hood and banging away.

Jimmy watched, munching cookies and drinking the best hot chocolate in the area. Cameron had a
really nice ass.

"Are you going to be able to fix it, man?" Sandy wandered over, smiled at him, and then looked at
Cameron. "There's a huge party tomorrow. I need that fixed."

"I'll fix it. It's easy. I swear."

"Oh, party!" Jimmy bounced for a minute before he realized he was probably going to be working
all day on set-up.

"Not a staff party. A wedding. Yay." Sandy looked so enthused.

He did bounce then. "I like weddings. I like seeing people be so happy."

"You're a sweetheart, aren't you? Hand me that crescent wrench."

He found the one that sort of had a crescent shape at the top and handed it over. "This one?"

"You're a dear. Thanks, honey." Man, he liked Cameron's voice -- a little country, a little husky.

"You want another cookie, Cameron?" He had one white chocolate chunk one left, but he could
give it to Cameron; he'd had four.

"Sure, if there's enough. If not, no big." Warm dark eyes smiled over at him from the square, tanned
face.

He checked to make sure Sandy was out of earshot and then leaned in. "I can also sneak a few
more."

"Oh, you're a wicked one."

Oh, man. That was sort of hot, in a oh-fuck-me-now hot sort of way.

"Sometimes." He popped the cookie in Cameron's mouth and that was kind of hot now, too.

Of course, the growing bulge in those tight jeans was even hotter.

Jimmy found himself staring and he couldn't seem to stop until he realized that was pretty rude, so
he snapped his eyes up to Cameron's face, cheeks flaming.

Cameron chuckled softly, gave him a half-grin. "When do you get off, honey?"

His cheeks were still blazing, but he couldn't help but grin back. "Not 'til four o'clock." He worked
the early shift, dragging bags out for folks checking out, helping to set up for the days events,
whatever.

"I'm off at five-thirty. You want to share a beer?"

Was that, like, an offer for more?

"Yeah, sure. We could meet at the bar upstairs?" It was that or go out, really, and there wasn't
anywhere nearby.

"Sure. Say sixish?"

Dude, he was arranging a hook up with the maintenance guy.

Davey and Leon were going to fucking plotz. Of course, if they told Dianne, he'd never hear the
end of it.

"Yeah, that works for me." He finished the last of his hot chocolate. "I gotta go -- break's over."

"Cool. I'll see you tonight." Cameron winked, grinned. "I'll be the guy in the tight jeans."

"I'll be the guy looking at your ass." He fled before he could be sorry he'd said it, grabbing one
more cookie as he went.

***

Cameron splashed on some smell-good and his parka, and wandered out of his little cabin into the
snow. Man, this was a cherry gig. Little house. Good food. Lots of folks. Honest work and the
prettiest fucking scenery on earth.

And he could go snowmobiling on his days off.

Fucking cool.

Even better, the Sky was in all those 'queer friendly' brochures, so a guy could look, a lot. Make
offers. Take guys up on offers. Meet pretty little boys in bars and hope that they sucked as well as
their little mouths promised they did.

Of course Jimmy wasn't little. He was a big tall beanpole, all arms and legs and sweet, sweet smile.
And waiting for him and the back bar/lounge thing the Sky had going on, sitting in a corner right up
at the bar itself.

He left his coat on the hooks provided and wandered over, nodded at Trixie behind the beer. "Coors
Light, please. Hey, honey."

Jimmy's face lit right up with a smile. "Hey, Cam. Is it okay if I call you Cam?"

"Absolutely." He straddled a bar stool, leaning back a little. "How was your afternoon, man?"

"Busy. I was setting up for that wedding. There were like a zillion balloons to blow up. I nearly
passed out. Twice." Jimmy's brown eyes twinkled warmly.

"That would have been a shame. Can I buy you a beer?" Pretty baby.

Jimmy shook his empty, put it back on the bar and nodded. "Yeah, I could use another."

"Cool. One for Jimmy, please." He sucked his down, the liquid hitting his stomach hard.

"You had supper yet?" Jimmy asked, taking a smaller mouthful of his own beer.

"Nope. I just got off the clock and showered. You?"

"Nah, I was waiting. I thought maybe we could get something together. Sandy's a great cook and
there's shrimp on the menu tonight."

"I'm a fan." He let his eyes travel over Jimmy's body, admiring.

Jimmy wiggled where he sat and then jerked his head back toward the little dining area. "Wanna
get a table?"

"Sure." If he sat there too long, he'd never be able to walk across the room.

Jimmy stood, taking his beer in one hand and offering the other to him.

The place was empty -- most of the skiers weren't out yet, and even if they were, it didn't matter.
Only the regulars and the staff used this bar. It was little and dark, not the showcase of the lounge
downstairs.

They sat and Jimmy didn't even bother with the menu. "I want the Coquilles St-Jacques, please.
And the fried calamari appetizer."

"I want a salad and a tuna melt, I think." Squid sorta scared him.

"I like the seafood." Jimmy waited 'til the waitress had gone. "You can order anything you want,
you know."

"Lots of this stuff is fancy, man. I don't even know how you ordered."

"I wrote up the specials menu for Sandy earlier. The Coquilles thing is seafood and cream and
cheese and stuff and they serve it in this fancy little shells. It's really cool." Jimmy looked like
maybe he ordered it just for that fancy shell.

"Maybe you'll let me take a bite. You worked here long?"

"I could do that." Jimmy nodded, head bobbing up and down like one of those dolls. "This is my
third season."

"Yeah? Where do you go in the summer?" He was hired on full time.

"I stay on. There's hiking so the place doesn't shut down. Mostly I do odd jobs, help out wherever
I'm needed."

"Yeah? I'm year-round, too. That's why I got the cabin."

"I only got a room, but I'm not skilled labor like you."

"I bet the rooms are okay, though." His little cabin was sweet, clean, small, simple.

"Oh, yeah, that wasn't a complaint." Jimmy looked worried that he might think it was. "I love
working here. Everything about it. "

"I've been pretty happy so far. The owners are good people; I went to school with Parker." He and
the general manager had been tight, once upon a time.

"Yeah? Did you go to college and stuff? I didn't make the cut."

"I did -- just a little one, but I have a degree in mechanical engineering." Hence the whole
handyman gig.

"That's so cool." The waitress came back with their food and Jimmy bounced, put his napkin on his
lap.

God, he felt old. He wasn't. He wasn't old at all, but... Oh, the tuna smelled good.

Jimmy dug into his own food enthusiastically. After a few initial bites, Jimmy's fork was held over,
a breaded squid ring on the end. "Wanna taste?"

"Is it good?" It looked a little scary, honestly.

"It is. Squid can get chewy, but this one is nice and soft -- melt in your mouth. Or in my mouth."
Grinning, Jimmy popped the ring into his own mouth before grabbing another one and holding it up
to Cameron’s mouth.

He opened up, going for brave. "Let me have it."

Jimmy blushed a little, proving his head was maybe somewhere less than innocent, and popped the
squid ring into his mouth.

Okay, well, that didn't suck. It was a little weird, but Cameron could handle it. "Not bad. Not bad at
all."

"Cool. The only fishy kind of stuff we used to have when I was growing up was tuna out of can."
Jimmy made a face that made it clear what he thought of that.

"I like tuna from a can. Tuna salad's one of my favorite things." Hell, he wasn't fancy, not at all.

"I like the salad part." Jimmy grinned and moved on to his sea shell thing. "Do you ski?"

"I don't know how." It was sort of embarrassing, but there it was. "I can snowmobile, though."

"Oh, cool. I've never done that. I could teach you to ski and you could take me out snowmobiling.
Tit for tat."

"That's fair." He ate his salad, licking the ranch dressing off his lips.

Jimmy's eyes latched onto his lips, and the kid licked his own lips.

Cameron couldn't fight the groan. "Honey, tell me you're into guys."

Jimmy gave him a wicked smile and giggled, a sweet blush lighting his face. "I'd rather have them
in me, actually."

"Oh ho!" He laughed, his cock approving, one hundred fucking percent. "I'm with you, honey. I
don't mind pitching, not at all."

"Cool." Jimmy reached out and touched his hand, a feather-light caress. "You wanna get some
dessert to go?"

"I do. You want to see my little cabin?" He let his toe nudge Jimmy's foot.

Jimmy nodded enthusiastically. "I would." Jimmy played footsie with him under the table and
another of those soft touches landed on his hand.

"I have a coffeemaker; we could eat dessert there." Eat dessert. Get naked. Fuck like bunnies.

"That sounds really good. Have you tried the triple chocolate cake yet? It's amazing. We could
share a piece."

He nodded, lifted his hand to get the waitress’ attention. "We need cake, man. To go. Something
big and decadent."

Jimmy nodded. "You got forks and stuff at your place?" The kid's foot was climbing up his calf.

"I do. Forks. Plates. Bed. Rubbers." All sorts of stuff.

"Sounds perfect." Jimmy put his knife and fork on his plate and drank the rest of his beer. "I'm
ready as soon as our dessert gets here."

Yeah, he could see the way those brown eyes were eating him up. He spread, trying to make room
in his jeans for his prick that was swelling like nothing else. Jimmy kept looking at him, foot
sliding higher and higher on his leg.

"Oh, damn, honey." His cheeks were going to catch on fire.

"I hope that cake comes soon." Jimmy looked like he didn't want to wait.

"You still hungry, honey?" He could tease a little.

"Yeah, but not for food." Then Jimmy's eyes lit up. "There's our cake. We can go."

"If you don't think anyone will notice my hard on, yeah."

"We can hold our hands over our crotches."

"Oh, I like you. I'll just let you hold the cake box."

"Hopefully I won't drop it." Jimmy grabbed the box and held it in front of him, hiding his eager
cock. "Lead the way."

"Come out the back. We'll take the service stairs and avoid the paying customer."

"Oh, good idea." Jimmy followed along, all long limbed and eager.

They grabbed their coats and hurried downstairs and into the cold, the snow really coming down.
"I'm not sure I'll ever get used to that."

"To what? The snow?"

"How much snow there is, yeah." It snowed a little in Arkansas, but not like this.

"Where are you from?" Jimmy pushed his hands in his pockets as the wind picked up.

"Western Arkansas. You?" He wrapped one arm around Jimmy, shielding him a little.

"Vermont. I'm kind of used to the weather." Didn't stop Jimmy from pushing even closer though,
now did it?

"That's some serious assed snow up there." He headed them around the back, behind the equipment
sheds. Man, he could grab an armful of wood, build them a fire.

"Yep. You get used to it, I guess. Is your cabin one of the ones with a view down the
mountainside?"

"Yeah. There's a great view, a big window." That was the best feature of the place, that and the
privacy.

"I bet the sunrises are amazing." Jimmy was blushing hard, but didn't back down from what he'd
said, from what he’d implied.

"They are. You can see them from my bed. You have tomorrow off?" They could do breakfast.

Hell, he could do that tight ass a couple of times, try it out, discover whether or not he liked it.

"I do have tomorrow off and I think we're on the same wavelength." Jimmy almost slipped on the
last bit of the path, but caught onto him, laughing as they arrived at his place.

"Home sweet home." He unlocked the little door, let Jimmy in. The place smelled like home --
wood smoke and tomato sauce and the cinnamon broom he had hanging on the wall.

"Oh, these are much nicer lived in." Jimmy wandered around the little living room, taking
everything in. "I help clean the cabins every summer, but they aren't homes yet. then."

"I fell in love with it at first glance," Cameron admitted. "It was the perfect size."

"Cool. Where can I put this?" Jimmy waved the cake box around.

"There's a tiny two-person table in the kitchen." He pointed the way, glad that he'd washed out his
breakfast dishes. Finally.

Jimmy put the box down in the kitchen and then came up to him. "And where can I put this?"
Jimmy pointed to himself.

"There's this handyman in jeans..." He reached out, looped his hands around Jimmy's waist.

"I think I know who you mean." Jimmy leaned down that little bit he needed to and brought their
mouths together.

Cameron hadn't kissed a taller guy in a long time. He grinned into the touch, tilting his head back
and feeling it. Jimmy's tongue licked at his lips, like they were knocking on a door. He opened up
and let Jimmy in, cock battering at his zipper; the ornery thing wanting to say hello and howdy.

Jimmy's hands found his hips as the kiss deepened, Jimmy's tongue exploring his mouth eagerly.
Damn. He groaned and let his hands wander, sliding up Jimmy's back, counting the knobs in the
skinny spine.

A low, humming sound came from Jimmy; the was no mistaking it for anything other than a happy,
pleased sound. Pressing closer, Jimmy rubbed, bulge hard and hot, even through his jeans. For a
skinny man, that wasn't a paltry prick. Cameron let his hands slide down, fingers cupping Jimmy's
butt and squeezing.

That earned him another low hum, and a moan, Jimmy beginning to shift, to move between him
and his hand.

"You're damned hot." They shifted a little, finding the places where they fit right, could snuggle
together.

"I was just thinking the same thing about you, Cam." The way Jimmy said his name it was all soft.

"I want to take you to my bed, honey." He took another soft kiss.

Jimmy fed him yet another, lips clinging to his. "Yes, please."

He nodded, took Jimmy's hand and led him into his bedroom.

***

Jimmy held tight to Cameron's hand and let himself be led into the bedroom. He knew the view
from the bed would be awesome during the day, but the only view he was interested in at the
moment was Cameron's ass.

It was a mighty fine ass.

He thought it might be a bit awkward when they stopped beside Cameron's bed, but it wasn't. He
wanted a kiss, and he took it.

Cameron's hands wrapped around his arms, dragged him into the curve of that fine body. He
pressed his lips down on Cameron's, feeling the heat of need between them. His own hardness
pressed against Cameron's belly while Cameron's rubbed against his thigh.

Cameron opened up to him, tongue flicking against his lips, teasing him, tempting his tongue to
follow inside that hot mouth.

They had some of the usual first-time where do my hands go issues, but once they figured it out,
everything clicked, from the way they rubbed together to the slide of their tongues against each
other.

He reached around, grabbing the ass he'd noticed right from the start. The muscles bulged and
rippled, fascinating him. Damn. He squeezed hard, dug his fingers in to get that jerk and shudder
again.

Between Cameron's ass in his hands and the man's mouth turning kissing into an Olympic sport, he
was really turned on.

"You still want to do me?" Jimmy asked when their lips finally parted, both of them panting for
breath. Cameron had said he liked pitching; Jimmy sure did like catching.

"Fuck, yeah. You want to ride me?"

"Yeah, okay." He nodded enthusiastically. Sliding his hand around to the front of Cameron's jeans,
he squeezed the impressive bulge he found there. "Yeah, I do."

"Mmm." Cam's eyes went all heavy-lidded and the man reached over to open a drawer in the
headboard. Condoms, lube -- the man was prepared.

"You were a boy scout, weren't you?" He plucked at Cameron's t-shirt. He bet the man had great
muscles.

"Hmm? You know it. Mom made me. You?" Strong, cut -- Cameron was like a big jungle gym.

"Nah, I'm too skinny. Besides, I lift bags all day." He slid his hands over Cameron's muscles. He
couldn't have stopped his moan if he'd tried.

"Huh?" Cameron's words were cut off, the soft moan filling the air.

"What?" He tried to replay what they'd said in his head. "Oh." He felt his cheeks fill with color. "I
kind of got stuck on your muscles and how you must work out and I don't... Yeah, on the boy scout
thing. For a couple years."

"Uh-huh. Come touch me some more."

"Yes, please." He giggled softly and went back to exploring the amazing muscles. He rubbed
Cameron's little cinnamon colored nipples with his thumbs as they slid by.

The bits of flesh tightened up, trying to get his attention. He tugged them, loving the way that made
Cameron moan. He licked his own lips, fingers continuing on downward. The little hairs on
Cameron's belly tickled his skin and enticed him down to where they disappeared into Cameron's
waistband.

"Mmm. I'm ready for you, man. I want in." Cameron was hungry for him.

"There's still too many clothes happening." He could fix that, though. Starting with Cameron's
pants.

"You're focused. I'll give you that." Cameron chuckled, started stripping down.

He found himself blushing again. "I can't help it -- you're hot."

One square hand cupped his jaw. "It wasn't a complaint."

"Oh, cool." He beamed at Cameron and went back to popping buttons and pulling down Cameron's
zipper. He could feel the heat of Cameron's prick pushing against the cotton of his underwear.

A full, heavy prick pushed out, just like it was reaching for him. Oh, that was nice. Better than nice.
He went to his knees without even thinking, wanting a taste.

"Oh. Oh, fuck. Look at you." Cameron stared at him. "Look at your mouth."

He looked back up, amazed at the muscles on the way up. "Is this okay?"

"More than." Cam's fingers traced his lips. "Suck me."

He turned his head to give those fingers a quick suck first and then turned his attention to
Cameron's awesome prick. Mouth opening, he carefully wrapped his lips around the tip. The thick
shaft stretched his lips, the tip salty and bitter, rich and male on his tongue. Oh, man. He approved.

He began to suck, his tongue playing with the slit. Raising his hands, he found Cameron's hips and
held on.

"Oh, fuck. Fuck. So hot." Oh, cool. Cameron was a babbler. It was hot -- too husky and raw to be
cute.

He took a little more in, sucking as good as he could. He could feel Cam, cock throbbing, pulsing
with each beat of the man's heart. It made him moan and he went down further, tongue sliding on
the thick vein.

"Oh, damn. That's fine." Cameron's fingers twisted in his hair.

Jimmy pulled off to lick at the tip again, and then he nosed his way down to Cameron's balls. He
licked one and then took the other into his mouth. The smell that he found there was rich, male,
good, and Jimmy inhaled deeply. He moaned around Cam's ball, nuzzled a moment longer and then
licked his way back up to the head of Cameron's prick. He did love the way a man's cock felt in his
mouth: the silkiness of the skin, the odd drops of pre-come that painted his tongue. And Cameron
tasted and smelled good, too.

Jimmy thought he could get used to this particular flavor and scent very easily.

"Let's get on the bed, Jimmy and I'll return the favor."

"Oh! Yes!" Jimmy jumped up and stripped down, more than happy to do a sixty nine.

Cam chuckled, got himself naked and settled on his side in the big bed. Jimmy settled with his head
at Cam's crotch, laughing when he had to curl his legs up to avoid hitting the headboard. He was a
bit gangly, not muscle-y and sexy like Cam.

"Tall beanpole." The chuckle tickled his skin, Cameron's tease, gentle, warm.

"Yeah, that's me." He nosed Cameron's cock and then licked at the tip before taking the head into
his mouth again.

He felt Cameron's gasp against his cock, then soft lips wrapped around his prick.

Oh, God. That was good. Moaning, he started giving Cameron his best suction.

Cameron was a little clumsy at first, like it'd been a little while, then the big guy got into the
groove, head bobbing as Cam worked him. Jimmy gave a happy little moan, and made sure he
didn't forget to give it to Cam as good as he could. It would be so easy to get into what Cam was
doing for him and forget what he was doing himself.

The suction kept going and going, Cameron pulling him in deeper. That was a feat because, even if
he wasn't as thick as Cam, he was long.

He wrapped his hands around Cam's thighs and encouraged Cam to take his mouth. Cam arched,
bucking into his mouth and groaning. He could feel the moans, all around his cock. He shuddered,
his own hips pushing deep without him even trying.

He sucked harder, tongue slapping at Cam's prick. The little sounds got louder, Cameron's grunts
vibrating around his shaft. He slid his hands to grab Cam's awesome ass, kneading as he worked to
make Cameron come.

They were both going to blow... The pun made him chuckle around Cam's prick.

Then he was coming, the pleasure almost surprising him. Cam groaned, tongue sliding on him,
cleaning him off, distracting him from the cock in his mouth.

He panted a little, another shiver or two coming from him. Then he moaned and started sucking
again, eager to even things up.

"Oh, hell. Jimmy..." Cam rolled onto his back more fully, hips pumping up.

Jimmy let Cam take his mouth, swallowing hard whenever Cam's prick hit the back of his throat.
Moans and grunts filled the air, Cameron's hands sliding on the sheets. He sucked his cheeks in as
hard as he could. Come on, Cameron, let go.

The first splash of salty heat hit his tongue, then another and another. Cameron shook and grunted

through his orgasm. Jimmy swallowed it all down, feeling like he had a piece of Cameron inside
him now. A little bit of the man that was his to keep.

Smiling at his own sentimentality, Jimmy slowly pulled off.

"Damn, honey." Cameron moaned, tugged him up into a kiss.

He got all his long limbs facing the right way and managed to do it without kneeing or elbowing
Cameron, too.

Man, Cam could kiss. It was nearly as good as the blow job. Okay. Not really, but it was good in an
entirely different way. Besides, now they could take their time, fuck each other's mouths, focus on
things.

"You taste good."

Cameron's mouth was a combination of supper and beer and Jimmy's come and Cameron himself
and it made Jimmy's taste buds hum.

"So do you. I fucking love kissing."

"Yeah? I could tell." He followed the tease up with a quick pinch to Cameron's ass.

Cameron grunted and kissed him again, grinning into his lips.

"You still wanna do me?" He wriggled against Cameron, hoping the answer was going to be yes.

"You know it. I'll get it up again."

"Me, too. Especially knowing this," his hands slipped down to grasp Cameron's thick cock, "is
going to be inside me."

"Uh. Uh-huh." Cameron's eyes rolled; the heavy cock jerked.

Jimmy kept stroking, enjoying the weight and heat of Cam's prick. He didn't want to let go. Cam
spread his legs a bit, and the strong hips rolled up toward him.

"God, you are so sexy. How did I get so lucky?"

"Me? Damn, honey. I could fuck you for years and not get bored."

"I'm just a beanpole, though, you've got all the great muscles. I could play on you forever." His
thumb passed back and forth across the slit in Cam's cock.

"Promises, promi... Oh, hell yeah."

Grinning, Jimmy leaned in to lick at Cam's neck; "What's your position on hickeys?"

"Will they get me fired?"

"Nope." He'd seen plenty of people with hickeys, plenty of staff people. He'd always been jealous.

"Then," Cameron grinned at him like a fool. "I'm a fan."

"Cool!" He dove back into Cam's neck, lips wrapping around the warm skin.

Cam was salty, warm, and he pulled harder, bringing the blood right up to the surface. When he
was done, he drew back to check it out. That was his mark on Cam's neck. Cool.

"Can you see it? It felt hot as fuck when you were sucking."

"It's red and getting darker." He beamed up at Cam. "Everyone will see tomorrow." And they'd
know. He pressed their mouths together, asking for more kisses.

"You like that?" Cam's kiss proved that Cam did, for sure.

He nodded. Man, Cam made him feel all sorts of great things. He pressed close, his cock pretty
much hard again, rubbing along Cam's amazing belly.

"Jimmy." Cam dragged his head down against that broad chest.

"These sensitive?" He didn't wait for an answer, wrapping his lips around one little tittie and
sucking.

"Not... oh. Harder. Harder, Jimmy."

He flicked the little nipple with his tongue and put a little more suction on it.

Cameron's hand was

on the back of his head, holding him close, keeping him right there. Someone liked this a lot; not all
guys did, but Cameron seemed really responsive to touches of all kinds. It had Jimmy grinning
against Cameron's chest for a moment, and then he gnawed at the little nipple before slapping his
tongue across it again.

"Fuck. Fuck, you. I. Fuck, Jimmy."

A shiver going through him at the needy tone in Cam's voice, Jimmy moved to Cam's other nipple,
working it just as hard. Cam's cock rose, pushing against his hip, hot as a brand. Moaning, he
rubbed against Cam, their cocks slapping and slipping together.

He was going to ride that heavy cock, let it fill him up and stretch him.

He let go of Cam's nipple to kiss the man again as he reached up to the drawer in the headboard and
searched blindly for the slick. He fumbled around, and then found it.

Slick him. Cover Cam. Then fucking. Focus.

He passed the slick over to Cam. "Get me ready?" He wanted the heat of Cam's fingers opening
him up.

"Mmm. You know it." Cam pulled him up, had him straddle the broad chest, before slicking those
thick fingers up.

Swallowing, Jimmy rose up onto his knees so Cam could get his hand where it needed to be. His
hole clenched as he waited for Cam to get to it. The first touch was gentle, Cam circling his hole.
Then that touch came again, again, and then Cam pushed in.

The burn of the stretch only lasted a moment and then he pushed back, trying to take more.
Cameron used the one finger until he was bucking and moaning, then another was added. His hands
planted on Cameron's amazing chest, he rode the two fingers as he had the one. It felt so good. And
when Cameron found his gland, he shouted and nearly bucked off the bed.

"Oh, right there, hmm? Right there." Cameron rubbed him, over and over, pegging his sweet spot
good.

"Oh God!" He rode that touch until it was too much and then he stilled, his knees gripping tight to
Cameron's torso. He met Cam's eyes and gasped for breath. "Too good."

"Mmm. You feel fucking amazing." Cameron tapped his gland again.

"Fuck! I mean it!" He was about to blow.

"Get me gloved up."

"I can do that." He hoped. He was so close that his hands shook as he tore the condom package
open, but he managed not only that, but stroking it down over Cam's thick cock as well. He took his
time with that part, enjoying the heat against his hands.

"Oh..." Cameron arched, hips rolling up.

He would have liked to have stroked and played longer, but if Cam was at all close like him, then it
could be all over before they got a chance to do this. And he really wanted to do this.

So he straddled Cameron again, farther down the muscled body, and lined Cam's thick cock up with
his hole.

"I'll let you control it. I know I'm big and you're so fucking tight."

"Been awhile." Okay, so it had been forever since he'd been with someone, though he did play with
his fingers in there -- the stimulation always felt so very good.

He got everything where it should be and started to sit back, groaning as the heat of Cam's cock
stretched his hole open. Cameron stayed still under him, fingers constantly moving and stroking.
Every inch of his skin was petted, stroked.

"God, oh God." Moaning and making other noises, he sank slowly down, taking all of Cameron's
prick in. It felt absolutely huge, very hot, and so good.

One of Cam's hands wrapped around his cock, stroking slow and easy, base to tip. That brought a
moan up from deep in his belly, maybe from his balls even, and he started to move, slowly riding
Cam's fabulous cock.

"Fuck, yeah. Yeah. Look at you." Cam's eyes stared at him like he was something stunning,
something amazing.

A guy could get used to being looked at like that. Especially when the one looking was Cam with
all his muscles and low voice and those eyes.

Jimmy lost his train of thought as Cam's prick pushed against his gland. His eyes closed and he
moaned again, beginning to ride harder.

"Fuck. Fuck, baby. So good. So fucking tight."

He shook his head. "Big. Big." Then he laughed, and fucked himself harder on Cam's amazing
cock.

Cam pushed up a little, reaching up to drag him down for a kiss. It was a little sloppy as all his
focus was on how good Cam's cock felt in his ass, but Cam tasted good and it made everything
hotter.

He started bucking, riding Cam good and hard as his balls drew up, getting ready to shoot. When
Cam's thumb nudged the tip of his cock, though, it was all over. Cam's cock pushed in, stretching
him and filling him up.

He shouted loudly, his cock spraying all over Cam's hand and chest, and his ass squeezed tight
around Cam's prick. Cam's hands landed on his hips, dragging him down and down, the big man
slamming into him. He helped as much as he could, squeezing his ass and reaching to tweak Cam's
nipples.

"Close. Fuck. Fuck."

"Come on, Cam." He tweaked the hard little nipples again, with more force this time.

Cameron jerked, cheeks going dark red as the cock inside him pulsed.

"Man, you look good when you come." Like everything felt good, even Cam’s eyelashes.

"Uh-huh. Thank you. Oh, fuck. So good."

"Uh-huh." He collapsed down onto Cameron, trying to catch his breath.

Cameron patted his back clumsily, blinking idly. He took himself another kiss, groaning into it as
Cameron's prick slid from his body.

"Stay the night? I got movies." Cameron cleaned up, got rid of the rubber.

"That'd be great. I get to see the sunrise from your picture window this way." Like the view had any
bearing whatsoever on him wanting to stay.

"You know it." Cameron spooned him, one arm around his waist. "This cool?"

"Yeah, it's good." He patted Cameron's hand and settled against the warm, solid body. "I'm glad I
met you today."

"You and me both, honey."

"I'm glad you're not just seasonal, too." Who knew, maybe it was too early to start thinking like
that, but Jimmy wasn't the one night stand type.

"Mmm. We've got lots of time, to learn shit."

"Yeah." Smiling, he snuggled in some more. "They had all the time in the world.

Snow Bunnies
By BA Tortuga

The bar was practically empty, everyone hitting the slopes. Chris couldn't blame them, would be
out there himself if it weren't for the doctor's orders, and that sucked big donkey nuts, because his
head? Fine. Not even tender anymore.

Asshole doctors, going on about concussions and altitude and cold and shit, like he didn't know his
own limitations. Chris was an athlete, for fuck's sake. A championship level downhiller. He'd
broken bones and kept competing; a little bump on the head from a collision with a completely
incompetent novice who appeared out of nowhere shouldn't slow him down, let alone keep him
from practice.

But no. The fucking doc wouldn't clear him for the competition next week unless he took two more
days off. So that was why he was sitting at the bar in the lodge instead of getting out on the slopes
and letting everyone else know about his displeasure too.

"Marty, I need two cases of the Bordeaux sent to the kitchen tomorrow for the entree."

That caught his attention, because someone sounded as grouchy as he was, and that was saying
something. Chris looked. Then looked again.

Nice.

Bright orange curls all corkscrewed and wild, teeny-tiny beard over tight lips, sharp nose, a slender
throat.

All that and expressive hands, too, that moved fluidly as the guy talked. They weren't perfect
hands; they had the nicks and cuts that went with the chef's uniform, but Chris liked the look of
them right away. So much that he stared openly, trying to get the guy to look at him.

Bright blue eyes glanced over at him, quickly the first time, then dragging a little, before going
back to the bartender.

Well, well, well. Looked like he'd just found something to occupy his time with. Even if the guy
turned out to be Not Interested with capitol letters, it would be fun to chase. Chris leaned back
against the bar, turning to face the talking pair more fully, looking close.

Lean and tight, sweet little ass, shoulders sharp enough that they poked out like bird wings, the man
was sharp, hands moving, tongue peeking out between his lips.

Chris figured the guy was a nice foil for his greater height and more solid frame, though he wasn't
exactly bulky. Still, he amused himself by wondering how they would fit together, letting it show in
his eyes, his face.

Those eyes slid back to him, traveling down his belly, lingering on his legs. "I want one of what
he's having."

"You sure? He's having scotch on the rocks." The bartender looked back and forth between them,
and Chris winked at him before looking back at his new, shiny diversion.

"Throw a splash of drambuie on it and I'm good." One of those hands was offered over. "Sandy."

"Chris." He shook, letting his firm grip linger into something a little softer. "Nice to meet you."

"Thanks." The drink landed on the bar and Sandy took a sip, nodding. "Not bad at all, Marty.
Thank you."

"No problem." Marty moved away, and Chris moved closer. "So you're one of the chefs? I've gotta
tell you, the food here is the only thing keeping me sane right now."

"I'm the sous chef weekday nights." Sandy settled on a stool, relaxing. "Why're you going crazy?"

"On the injured list. I got mowed down a few days ago by a first time snowboarder trying to do an
arial. Took a hard knock to the head."

"Ew. Ow. That? Is why I don't go outside." He got a wink, another sip of the scotch was taken.

Affecting horror, Chris put a hand to his chest. "You don't ski?"

Oh, the guy had a great laugh. "Hell, I? Born and raised in Phoenix. This is my first time to see
snow, much less... slide in it."

"Oh, hey, if you need lessons, I'd be happy to take you on." Grinning, Chris relaxed back, letting
his arm brush Sandy's.

"You must have really hit your head hard..." Another low chuckle sounded, Sandy's knee nudging
his.

"Nope. I just love to ski. And I would rather the first time you tried? You didn't give someone else
a concussion." Oh, he was more than amused now. He was really interested.

"Yeah. Someone else. Me. Random woodland creatures..."

"Trees. Gotta watch the trees. You know, the doctor said I couldn't ski, but that I was ready to start
some physical activity. What time do you get off?" No sense beating around the bush. If he was
going to get slapped down, it might as well be now.

He got a quirked eyebrow, a tilted head. "I'm on my lunch hour, so to speak. I close the kitchen at
eleven."

"Am I going too fast?" Chris smiled, one finger running down Sandy's arm. "Must be the
downhiller in me. I hate to waste time."

"Well, every dish needs to cook at the right speed." Sandy licked his own lips, grinned. "Hotter
dishes move faster."

"So they do. So, do you think you'd be up to giving me some physical therapy?" He liked this one.
No games, just sharp eyes and a smart mouth.

"I believe there is room on my menu for that, yeah."

"Excellent. How are you at appetizers?" He let his head dip toward the door, hoping for a small
taste of what was to come.

"They're my specialty." The rest of the gold liquid was knocked back, the slender body sliding off
the stool and against him.

His own drink burned all the way down as he finished it off, a pleasant fire in his belly to match the
heat in other places. Chris stood, too, keeping the contact, rubbing against Sandy lightly.

"There's a sweet lounge off the executive washroom. Locks."

"Lead the way." Yeah, they were going to fit so nice. He was just that much taller, just that much
bigger, not that it mattered, but Chris liked that, liked the little differences. Half of the time hooking
up with another skier was like having sex with a mirror.

The keys to the fancy washroom were produced and he was drawn into a little lounge -- frou-frou
couch, little table with magazines, armchair. "This work?"

Surveying, calculating his options, Chris nodded, and locked the door behind him before making
for the couch. It was just that much bigger than the chair. They made it made two feet in before he
had to stop and have a taste, hands on Sandy's shoulders, pulling him close for a nice to meet you
kiss.

The man was eager, knew how to kiss, met him halfway, beard and mustache tickling his lips.

Definitely as good as he'd hoped. A perfect fit. Chris bent, grabbed Sandy's hips, and pulled, and
there they were, hip to thigh and cock to belly.

Those thin hands pushed into his hair, holding their lips together, tongue teasing his own.

"Mmm." A low noise slid out of his throat, his tongue pushing against Sandy's, tasting.

A nice, stiff prick rubbed at him, insistent, hot, making him want to touch, to see.

They moved, fumbling their way to the couch, Chris' hands moving, too, sliding to cup that
hardness through the cloth of Sandy's pants, wanting so bad.

"Oh... Yeah, fuck." Those thin hips pushed into his touch, hip bone nudging his wrist.

Hot. So hot if they were outside they'd melt the snow. No way could he ask for more than that, but
he did, pushing and pulling until he got Sadny's pants open and that sweet cock was in his hand.

"Nice hands." That hungry little mouth was on his jaw, his throat, teeth threatening.

"Thanks." Chuckling, he squeezed the warm flesh in his hand, fingers sliding up and down. The
scent was just as good, deep and rich, spicy and male. Some guys just didn't smell good, and
nothing could put him off faster. This one? This one worked.

The soft laugh tickled his throat as Sandy worked his sweater up.

He helped, letting go briefly to pull the cloth over his head, throwing it off to one side before
getting back to the fun stuff, pulling at Sandy's trousers. "Off."

"Uh-huh..." Sandy leaned down, licked at his abs as the pants dropped, tight little ass shaking it for
him.

"Oh. Yeah. I want some of that." Pale and muscled and perfectly shaped, that ass just taunted him,
even prettier than the heavy cock. Well, almost.

A soft moan brushed his belly, hands working his pants open.

His own hands got tangled in those soft red curls, massaging the scalp underneath. He wanted to
touch, he did, but with the man hovering over his... oh. Oh, damn.

His pants were opened, little beard brushing the tip of his cock as soon as it came into view.

"Oh, fuck. Can't decide if that tickles or if it's hot." Yeah, right, like it wasn't hot. The best thing
about someone between your knees breathing on your cock was that it mixed the visual with the
tactile. You could fucking see it as well as feel it.

He got another grin, those blue eyes dancing as that wicked tongue flicked at the ridge of his cock.
"This? Hot? Tickles?"

"Hot. Definitely hot." Arching, spreading his legs wider, Chris grinned back, the laughter turning to
moans as Sandy touched him.

One hand dipped in, cupped his balls, lips brushing and sliding down his shaft.

"Damn." Chris couldn't stand it, had to do some of the doing. He grabbed Sandy, pulled him up to
sit with him, cupping the back of Sandy's head to take another kiss, working at getting the rest of
their clothes off. He wanted to see and taste and touch all of it.

Hot and smooth, the mass of red curls above that curved cock soft on his belly, tongue quick and
hungry -- it was fine. Just fine.

That little ass felt just right in his hands. More right than anything had in a long time, and that was
an odd thought, but Chris pushed it aside in favor of deepening the kiss, tongue and hands moving
in time.

Sandy's hands were busy -- exploring and stroking, petting, pinching.

The pinching made him jump, laugh, and he paid that right back with a swat to that pale butt. "Oh,
we're going to have fun."

Sandy wiggled for him, then dove back into the kisses. "Fun tonight. Now? We're going to get off."

"Yeah." The man had a point. If Sandy had to get back to work, they'd better get on with it.
Besides, his cock was going to explode. Chris reached for Sandy's prick, and his, pulling them both
together, gasping at the feel of it.

"Oh, there you go." Sandy's fingers found one of his nipples, tweaking it.

"Good." It was good. One hand stayed on Sandy's ass, the other moved between them, his hips
starting to roll as he stroked. He loved having two pricks together, loved the differences in his skin
and someone else's.

"Yeah. Good." Sandy ducked his head, hips shifting, moving faster, lips sliding and hot.

Nodding, he nibbled, licked, and rubbed, pulling Sandy down against him, pushing up. Damned
hot. His balls were high and tight, his nipples hard under those clever fingers, and Chris figured it
wouldn't be long.

A low groan sounded, teeth scraping his shoulder. "Fuck. Soon."

"Uh-huh. Yeah." Oh, damn, he could feel them both swell, feel them both pulse in his hand, and it
was too good. His thumb slid into Sandy's crease, his other hand clutching tight. He panted, holding
on but just barely. He wanted to be right there with Sandy. Wanted to see them both come.

Sandy shuddered, head snapping up, throat working. Heat sprayed, covering his fingers.

Fuck. Chris lost it, hips pumping, head falling back as he came. His eyes closed, and he spared a
fleeting moment to regret that he couldn't keep them open to watch.

"Oh. Nice." His lips were taken in a long, deep kiss, both of them riding the aftershocks.

"Hell yes. If that was just getting off? I can't wait for the fun." Laughing, he kissed again, tongue
lingering.

"I get off at elevenish. Want to meet somewhere?"

"How about my room? I have one of those whirlpool suites." No sense mincing around. They'd be
better off starting somewhere they had a bed.

"I can handle that. I'll bring dessert, coffee?" He got a grin. "Bottle of Bailey's?"

"Sounds good. I'll provide the towels and the rubbers." That ass? Was so his.

Sandy angled up, nodding. "Which one's yours?"

He had to touch everything one last time, wet hand moving over Sandy's cock, the sweet, tight butt.
"435. I'll be waiting for you."

"It's going to be the world's longest dinner run..."

"Yeah. As long as you don't tell me it's all part of the hotel service."

Those bright blue eyes gleamed at him. "Not even a bit."

"Oh, good." They started gathering up clothes, rubbing shoulders and hips, and Chris was grinning
like an idiot. If the guy fucked like the kitchen here cooked?

He couldn't wait.

***

Not a bad dinner service.

Not bad at all.

Sandy tossed his apron in the laundry hamper, locked the walk-in, made his morning food order,
then headed out for a smoke.

Fuck, it was cold.

Pretty though, with the snow coming down in huge flakes, catching the light.

He took a deep, long drag, letting himself relax a little, unwind. There was, if he was a very, very
lucky man, a beautiful skier waiting for him, waiting for a little more of the taste he'd gotten earlier.

Sandy licked his lips, swallowing back a moan, just at the memory of those callused hands,

wrapped around his cock, both of them humping together like...

He heard the distinctive -- and beginning to be familiar -- sound of footsteps crunching on the crust
the snow made. Sandy blinked, looked down at the sight of his hand on his fly, rubbing his prick.
Oh, dude. No humping the air in public!

"Hey. You're not ducking out on me, are you?" The pretty guy must have been waiting for him, and
not up in one of the rooms. Interesting. Stalkerish, or just eager?

Hopefully it was eager.

He was all about the eager.

"Nope. Just finished up and needed something to wind down. You enjoy your dinner?"

"I did. I had the prime rib. The artichokes rocked my socks. Sorry, I wasn't trying to stalk." Dude,
mindreader. "I was just restless." Poor guy still had some bruises.

"I wasn't worried." Much. He handed over the pack of Marlboros. "You smoke?"

"Sure. Thanks." The guy took one, lit up. "Chris. Just in case you forgot while you were working."
That smile was something, bright and wry and good.

"I didn't forget." He shivered, leaned back against the doorframe, letting his eyes drag down long
lean lines of pretty man. Yum, yum, eat him up. "After this afternoon, I wasn't going to forget."

"Yeah?" One dark eyebrow went up, sharing the hot little joke. "It was okay, huh?"

"Better than okay." Sandy grinned, blew out a stream of smoke. Man, he wished he could blow
smoke rings.

"Good. Here, too." Chris hushed up, blowing out his own stream of smoke, moving closer to keep
him warm, which Sandy’s Phoenix-born ass appreciated.

"Jesus, you put out some heat." He grinned, looked up.

"Hey, I told you. I'm like a Siberian Husky or something." Yeah. Yeah, and he'd felt that skin bare,
at least on his hand. It was all good.

"Me, I'm more like a terrier or something."

"A red one." Chris tugged at one of his wild curls.

"Do they make those?" Maybe a fox, that was vaguely sexy.

"Uh. Sure. Aren't Airedales red?" Now Chris was looking a little embarrassed.

"Irish... spaniels? Setters? The pretty, sleek ones."

"There you go." Chuckling, Chris stubbed out the smoke. "Let's leave the dog metaphors behind,
huh? They were a bad idea."

That tickled him and he started laughing, deep, full belly laughs that just bubbled through him.
"You've got a deal. So, you liked the beef and the 'chokes. Did you get a chance to eat dessert?"

Sexy stud.

"Nope. I was hoping... Well, you know. Anyway. Dessert would rock. We could have it up in the
whirlpool in my room?"

"We could." Uhn. Whirlpools. Nakedness in bubbly water. Score. "Chocolate or vanilla?"

"Vanilla, actually. Chocolate is cool, but a really good vanilla rocks." Chris bumped hips with him,
reminding him of how they'd done that on the way out of the bathroom earlier.

"Let me grab a tray." He let them back in, slid two plates with vanilla bean cheesecake and
raspberry coulis onto a tray, before snagging a cheap bottle of bubbly. "Lead on, MacDuff."

"That looks good. One of the perks, huh?" They headed the back way up to the third floor, which
was nice. There ought to be a view.

"Yep. One of many. These were very popular tonight." God, making small talk was painful.

"I bet." Chris must have thought so, too, because he was quiet the rest of the way, waiting until they
got to the spacious guest room and closing the door behind them.

He put the tray down, hoping he didn't stink to high heaven. He did love the décor here -- nice and
understated, but stupid rich.

"You know, we could wait on dessert, and the whirlpool. Have it after." Woo. Small talk over.

"I think that's a fabulous fucking idea." He stepped out of his clogs, even though that made him that
much shorter. Somehow he didn't think Chris would hate it.

"Mmm." Those big hands closed around his upper arms, Chris pulling him right up against that lean
chest and belly.

Direct. Hungry. Wanting. Focused on his ass.

He approved.

Sandy stepped right in, rubbing, hips rolling to slide his cock along Chris' hip.

"Oh. I like that." Chris bent, mouth hovering over his. "This okay?"

"It is." He pushed up on his tiptoes, making the almost-kiss a full-out kiss.

They had to move side to side just a little, but they finally got the angle just right, Chris' tongue
pushing into his mouth and fucking him but good. Oh, yum. He ran his hands up along Chris' back,
testing the muscles, making sure Chris felt him.

He sure could feel Chris. The hardness that pressed against his belly was hard to miss. Hard for
him, too.

"Nice." He measured, relearned everything he'd only gotten a taste of earlier. Nice and heavy, hot,
thick.

"Thank you." Chris' hands found his ass, lifting him a little, dragging their bodies together. Friction.

He opened his mouth to say something, but a little, happy moan came out instead. It seemed to
work for Chris, though. It gave the man better access, let Chris kiss him until he couldn't breathe.
Until he could hardly think.

His hips were moving like they had minds of their own, and his cock was making clear demands.
He wanted Chris, he wanted skin on skin, and he wanted it now.

Now.

Like right now.

The whole small-talk awkwardness was over. It was time for the main act. Chris lifted and turned,
and he landed on the bed, arms and legs sprawling. He chuckled, lifted himself up on his elbows.
"Nice move."

"Thanks. I'm speedy." Chris laughed and started stripping down, showing off pale skin and some
nice muscle.

Sandy watched, hand rubbing his cock through his pants. He liked the way Chris was built, loved
the way the hard cock curved up toward the man's belly.

"Now you." Bony knees hit the bed, Chris crawling to him to tug at his zipper and pull his pants
down.

Sandy stripped his shirt off, even as he wriggled and shook out of his pants. He wasn't an athlete,
but he wasn't a fucking slouch, either.

"Oh, freckles." That smile was infectious, and Chris connected the dots on his belly, tracing from
one spot to another.

"Mmmhmm. Natural redhead." He chuckled as Chris' fingers hit a ticklish spot. That laugh turned
into a moan as Chris kept on exploring.

"Yeah. I can see that." Chris was dark all over, at least the fuzz. And he must wax his chest,
because damn. Those pubes were something.

Sandy arched a little, rolled up into Chris' touch. "We're a rare breed, true redheads."

"You are. I don't think I've ever met one. It's fascinating." Those fingers pressed down against the
base of his cock, Chris stroking his curls with one thumb. His thighs popped open, like there was a
button down there under his skin. "Pretty. Smell good, too." Bending, Chris licked at his balls,
wringing a surprised shout out of him.

His knees drew up -- he couldn't help it -- and that landed his ass in Chris' hands. Lifting, Chris
positioned him just so and started really giving him a tongue bath. Cock, balls, all the way down to
his hole.

"Sweet fuck." His eyes rolled back and he grabbed his knees and tugged good and hard.

He needed.

Fuck, but he needed.

"Jesus. So hot." Hands and mouth worked him, Chris exploring him until he thought he might
scream with it.

"Uh-huh." He nodded, agreeing balls-deep. He was going to melt the entire goddamn valley.

That hot tongue pushed at his hole, one of Chris' fingers slipping inside, and it was a damned good
thing he wasn't one of those guys who got all territorial and stuff. About his ass, that was. Of
course, the way he was humping that touch and begging for more, Chris probably wasn't stressing
the whole 'does he like ass-play' thing, huh? Nope. Chris was busy licking and pushing and when
two fingers were deep inside him, Chris moved up to suck his cock, mouth closing tight around
him. Wet. Hot. Fucking amazing.

"Oh, sweet fuck. Don't stop." He rolled up, fingers on Chris' head, just barely touching.

"You can push." Chris popped off long enough to say it, then pushed back down to suck again.
Jesus, the man was enthusiastic.

"You're fucking good at that." He did push, both of them finding a solid fucking rhythm.

In.

Out.

In.

Oh, hell yeah.

"Mmm." That was a happy sound. Good at it, and liking it. Goddamn.

His legs flailed a little, trying to find purchase on the floor or the bed or something. Chris moved
fast, hooking a strong arm under his ass, the other hand still moving, those fingers pushing deep.
He was roaring toward a fast finish, that mouth pulling everything out of him.

"Oh, fuck. Oh fuck. Fuck..." His breath caught in his chest and he just went fucking crazy, humping
and begging and driving in between that mouth and those amazing fucking fingers.

Chris worked him and worked him, not letting him fall. He hung there, his whole body writhing
with it, and at some point he started to beg. That was when Chris pegged his gland with those long
fingers.

He shot so hard that his teeth rattled, the room going a sweet, easy gray. Oh, hell yes. Hell, yes.

"Uhn." This low noise sounded, making his balls throb one more time. Jeez. Then Chris was on top
of him, rubbing like a madman.

"So hot." He managed to get one of his hands pushed between them, fingers wrapping around
Chris' cock and rubbing but hard.

"Oh." The sound was long, drawn out, and Chris' eyes rolled back in his head, a hard grimace
crossing the lean face.

"Fuck, you're..." Yeah. Fine.

Real fine.

"Come on, beautiful. Lemme see."

"See? Oh. Yeah." Laughing, Chris threw his head back, arching up and pushing down, riding his
hand.

"Uh-huh. Pretty, pretty." He squeezed harder, thumb working on the tip, making it burn a little.

"More. Harder. God, just like that." Someone liked it a little extreme, a little rough. Look at the
flush on that skin.

His nail scraped along the tip, pushing in just a little.

"Fuck! Oh, fuck!" Chris shot for him, hard and fast, cock jerking in his hand. The man made the

best noises, a lot louder this time around than the last.

He nodded, eased up a little, knowing shit would get sensitive.

"Oh, Goddamn. I needed that." He got a grin, Chris slumping against him a little. "That's a better
rush than skiing."

"Now there's a compliment, hmm?" He liked that.

"It is." Chris rolled to lie next to him. "Give me a few and I'll be ready to do it again."

Sandy nodded, chuckled under his breath. "I'll even feed you." He was better at that than he was at
sex.

"Oh heck yeah. You brought dessert." That was definitely a bounce. Someone liked the food at the
Blue Sky, for sure.

"I did." He leaned over, licked Chris' nipple, and then bit down a little.

"Shit. That's... Watch it. I'll get going again."

"I'm sort of counting on it, man. Watching. Getting it going again... The whole thing."

After dessert, of course.

Hospitality Sweet
By Chris Owen

Joel was sitting near the blazing fire, looking out at the falling snow and feeling very smug that he
was warm and Seth was likely cold. Of course, it was entirely Seth's choice to keep on skiing
instead of taking a break, so perhaps the smugness was misplaced. Joel couldn't really be sure,
since Seth had never once in eight years even acknowledged any moment when Joel was being
smug; it was a little bit of a blind spot in their relationship. Seth's indifference to Joel's smugness
was both a mild irritation and a free ticket to be smug all he wanted, so Joel didn't make a fuss
about it.

Joel had been out skiing for a couple of hours in the morning and the powder had been fantastic; it
would be even better late in the afternoon, given the fresh snowfall. But while Seth was still out
there, skiing and taking the lift back up to the top in an endless loop, Joel had the better part of two
worlds: he had some outdoor fun, a plan to go back out for another few trails before supper, and
also the joy of relaxing by a fire with a drink and a good book while he waited for the energy to do
just that.

The real bonus, though, was in the eye candy, and perhaps that was where the smug feeling came
from. If Seth was boy-watching out there -- and no doubt he was -- all he was getting to see was a
lot of ski pants and fuzzy hats. Joel, on the other hand, got to look at the long and lanky form of a
very pretty man. Perhaps about twenty-five or six years old, a little on the lean side to be a full-time
gym monkey but still very fit, the man had messy blond hair and tight jeans. He was luscious and
entirely Joel's type.

He considered and rejected the idea of texting Seth to come to the lodge for some fun; if he could
land the prize he'd do it then. There was no sense in dragging Seth off the hill if there wasn't any
fun to be had -- well, other than the usual fun, of course.

It did seem promising, however. They were on either side of the fire in easy chairs, an empty love
seat between them, but Joel was fairly certain he could at least mange to get them both there. That
would be step one.

Three times Joel had glanced up from the pages of his novel to find the lovely young man doing the
same thing. Twice his companion had lowered his gaze as soon as Joel had met his eyes. The last
time, though, Joel kept on looking and so did the man.

"What are you reading?" Joel asked with a friendly smile. It was a logical opener, if not as to the
point as, 'Hey, want to go to my room and mess around?'

"Text book." He held up a big hardcover book that had a title five words long and contained the
word 'Dynamics'. "Graduate level business class. You?"

"Thriller." Joel held up his copy of the latest blockbuster spy novel. "One of the joys of being a
long time out of college is that I can indulge in the best seller list instead of assigned readings. Why
on earth are you studying on vacation? Or do you work here?"

He got a grin. "You don't look like you're a 'long time out of college.'"

Joel nodded at the compliment and admitted that he may have exaggerated. "Sometimes ten years
can feel like a long time. The question stands, though. Why the hell are you studying in this little
piece of paradise?"

"I'm using my course load to get out of another day of skiing with my cousins. They're a nice
bunch, don't get me wrong, but come on. Sitting around for an afternoon is good, too. To hear them
tell it taking time off the slopes is sacrilege. Thus, a text book comes in handy." He glanced at the
cover. "I think I actually took this class last year. It's a prop."

"Sneaky." Joel moved to the couch, leaving his book on the chair but taking his drink with him.
"And they just let you bail?"

"I didn't give them much choice." He grinned and offered his hand. "Ian."

Joel leaned way over and shook his hand, holding on that moment or two too long. "Joel. So you
set them straight?"

"Straight. Funny." Ian looked amused, his eyes crinkling at the corners when he smiled. "That's the
whole thing, really. My sister got this great idea that all of us should get together for a holiday --
there's about seven of us cousins in a five year age range. We're a rainbow family, with three of us
guys being gay and the rest growing up dealing with it, so we took a vote and came here. With me
so far?"

"It's not that hard to follow." Joel sipped his drink and kept his tone friendly despite the words.

"Just making sure." Ian smiled again and gestured around them with a sweep of his arm. "Here,
where there's a gay friendly atmosphere and maybe a chance to actually hook up, if I'm lucky,
although I didn't exactly phrase it that way to her. The thing is, the two gay cousins brought their
partners, which is pretty awesome, really. Now we're the gay five in number and all is good.
Everyone's skiing and laughing and having a grand ol' time."

"Except that if you're stuck with family the entire time it's hard to hook up." Joel nodded. "I see
your problem. So you bring a text book, take a day off and... what?"

Ian moved to the couch, his grin broadening. "You tell me."

That was more like it. Joel smirked a little and looked Ian up and down, the entire lovely length of
him. "You're just my type, really. But do you play with couples?"

For a long moment Ian didn't say anything, just stared at him. He looked at first like he wasn't sure
what the sentence meant, though it had been fairly to the point, then his cheeks got a bit pink. If
Joel hadn't just sat with him for a few minutes and had known they hadn't been rosy before, he
could have assumed they were wind burned. "Don't see anyone else here," he finally said.

"He's skiing. Seth is very nice," Joel offered, watching Ian's face. "We've been together a long time;
I know he'd like you. We don't have to wait for him -- he won't be in for ages yet."

"But he will be back?" Ian pressed.

"Eventually. And I'll send him a text message, letting him know I have a party favor for him." He
risked looking away from Ian's face to take a glance and see how the rest of him was reacting to the
proposition. Encouraged by the knot at the front of Ian's jeans, Joel added, "You and I could have a
lot of fun before Seth joins in. And if you're not into threesomes, you can just watch. Or Seth can
watch. Or I can watch. Whatever."

Ian's confused look had melted away into something hungry and perhaps a little determined. "He
won't mind? You're sure? Because I so don't want to get in the middle of anything. I mean, I'm sure
you're really nice and all, but I pretty much just want to get laid, you know? I won't cause trouble in
a relationship just to get my rocks off."

Joel smiled at Ian and leaned forward. "Trust me," he said, putting his hand over Ian's cock and
squeezing. "Seth and I will be just fine. In fact, once he sees me with you, I'm pretty sure he'll be
showing me his appreciation for a long, long time." Seth absolutely adored watching Joel playing
with someone new. The 'new' part seemed to be key, as far as Joel was aware. He hadn't tested it by
going back to someone more than once.

Ian's eyes were huge and his hips lifted a bit to push into Joel's hand. "Okay," he said quietly. He
licked his lips and nodded. "Let's go. Send him a message and let's get started."

"I like the way you think." Joel rubbed Ian again, his fingers pressing all along the hard length and
then lower, cupping Ian's balls. "I have a lot I want to do before I have to share you."

"Share," Ian whispered, his breath catching a little. "God, let's go. Your room."

Smiling, Joel let Ian go. "Our room," he agreed. He led the way, leaving both his drink and the
novel behind. The book wasn't that good, and he needed his hands free to text Seth. He took Ian
across the lounge and through the lobby, pausing only to grin at the desk clerk's knowing look.
"We're just on the second floor," he said, starting up the wide staircase instead of going to the
elevator.

"Nice short trip, then." Ian was keeping right with him.

"Mmmhmm." Joel had his phone out, was keying in a message for Seth to hurry home. "And we're
at the end of the hall, too. The side with the view."

"Every side has a view."

"True." Joel laughed and nodded. "But we have a view down the side of the mountain, instead of a
view of the snow covered trees. We get this room every year, if we can."

"Honestly, you could have a view of a broom closet and I wouldn't care."

Joel walked faster. He'd snared what he wanted; it was time to enjoy it. He held onto the phone and
got his key card out with the other hand. "I think you'll like the room. Never sell a room short just
for the sake of getting naked."

"What?" Ian didn't sound like he was paying a lot of attention, really. That wasn't a bad thing, if he
was focusing on sex.

"I mean," Joel explained as he unlocked the door to their room, "sometimes it pays to take full
advantage of a room instead of just heading to the bed." He opened the door and let Ian go in ahead
of him. "See what I mean?"

"Oh. Oh, yes. I believe I do." The text book thumped onto the table near the door and Ian toed off
his shoes before walking right to the hot tub in the corner. It was surrounded by windows, giving
them a stunning view. "Does this thing take long to fill?"

"Just long enough to get off once before we climb in." Joel put his phone by Ian's book and made
sure the door had closed behind him. "We tested that out, first thing. Go ahead and turn on the
water, get it started."

"Yeah?" Ian glanced back at him and grinned. "I'll do that. You get naked."

"It'll be more fun if you help." Joel laughed though and got rid of his own shoes, his fingers
working the top buttons on his shirt. By the time Ian had the water running full blast to fill the huge
tub, Joel's shirt was off.

"You're sure we've got time?" Ian said, watching the water run. He peeled off his own shirt and
tossed it aside. "It's flowing pretty fast."

"Well, it depends on what you want to do, I suppose." Joel undid his pants and walked over to the
tub. "Tell you what. You keep an eye on the water. I'll take care of the getting you off part." Joel sat
Ian down on the edge of the tub and kissed him, licking quickly through his mouth before kneeling
between his thighs. "All right?"

"Hell, yes." Ian grinned and made a show of looking in the tub. "I have my job, you have yours."

"Right." Joel grinned back and went to work on his job. He undid Ian's button flies the easy way
and in a moment he had them down over Ian's hips and then off, taking the boxer briefs with the
denim. "Just the kind of work I like."

A lot, if the truth were to be told. Ian's cock was perfect, standing away from his body proudly.
Straight and with more girth than Joel had expected, it was already rosy at the tip. Joel licked his
lips and dove in, his hands holding Ian's legs wide apart while he licked the length from root to tip
and back down the other side.

Ian seemed to appreciate Joel's effort; he held onto the side of the tub and angled his hips to give
Joel room. "More," he encouraged. "Lick me again before you suck."

Those were instructions Joel was happy to follow. He licked again, tasting the hot, smooth skin and
the very first taste of salt at the tip, then went lower and moved Ian's balls around with his tongue
until he got a deep groan. He did it again, waiting until the groan finally turned into a gasp and was
accompanied by Ian's hips moving, rubbing against Joel's face.

"Yeah," Ian said as he rocked a little harder. "Nice. Suck my cock now, okay?"

Joel didn't. He sucked on one of Ian's balls instead, delighting in the well groomed and trimmed
curls at the base of Ian's cock. He'd get around to sucking Ian off when he was good and ready;
maybe even before the tub was too full.

"Joel." Ian's voice was low and rough, his legs spread so wide that Joel could feel the tension in his
thighs. "Please."

Well. He'd asked nicely. And there was the tub to consider. Joel licked his way back up to the head
of Ian's cock and suckled lightly, kneading at Ian's thighs.

Naturally enough, Ian thrust. And Joel backed away, just enough to keep the head in his mouth and
no more.

"Tease," Ian complained breathlessly.

Joel looked up at Ian and winked. Then he swooped down, taking Ian to the root and at the same
time pressed two fingers to Ian's hole and rubbed.

"Yes." Ian's head went back and he rocked uncontrollably, fucking Joel's mouth. "Fuck."

Joel let Ian set the pace, let him pound in as far as he wanted. Ian had to hold onto the tub for
balance, so it wasn't like Joel's head was being held in place, although the thought of that got Joel's
own hips moving, jerking uselessly against air.

Seth would come and take care of him. Then it would be good, better, best, one cock in his mouth
and another in his ass. Joel groaned and sucked harder, pushing the tips of his fingers inside Ian's
hole.

"God! Yes!" Ian yelled and started to come, his cock pushing deeper as Joel swallowed, his ass
tight tight tight around Joel's finger tips. "Oh, man."

Joel licked him and brought him down, both of them panting. He was hard enough to worry about
the structural integrity of his jeans, the way his cock was trying to escape. "How's the tub?" he
asked, still nuzzling Ian's balls, one hand busy trying to get his zipper down.

"Uh, ready to go, I think." Ian pet Joel's hair with a slightly shaky hand. "Damn."

Joel grinned and stood up to strip. He almost moaned with relief as his cock sprang free. "All right.
Let's see what we can get up to before Seth arrives."

"I thought we already were. Man, I'm glad I took today off." Ian laughed and slid into the tub with a
splash. "Bring that in here."

"Oh, I am." Joel pushed the button for the bubbles and climbed in with Ian, lube and rubbers on the
edge of the tub. "Trust me. I am."

Ian grinned and kissed him, one hand curling around Joel's cock and stroking him in the water as
the windows started to fog up from the steam. On the table, Joel's phone chimed with the custom
sound of a text message coming in from Seth. He'd be there soon, Joel knew, and then things would
really start to happen.

God, Joel loved vacations at the Blue Sky: relaxing at its very finest.

***

Seth practically ran from the shuttle into the Blue Sky. He'd left his skis at the hill, stored in the pro
shop lockers, and hightailed it right on back to the lodge. It was just luck that he'd even checked his
cell phone before he'd gotten in line to take the lift back up; he was in the zone and hadn't had any
intention of getting off the slopes until it was time to eat something or pass out from hunger.

Even then, Seth had been planning to just eat a burger or a piece of pizza in the lift lineup.

Joel had gotten his attention, though, and now Seth was hurrying through the lobby and up the
staircase to the second floor, his ski jacket unzipped and sliding off his shoulders before he reached
the top. He nodded to a couple going down and rushed down the hallway, hoping he wasn't too late.

Coming into a three-way after it had been going on for a while was tricky; they could already be
done and napping and then where would he be? Raring to go and out of sorts.

Seth paused to listen at the door to the room. He had his key card in his hand, all set to burst in, get
naked and join in the fun, but he hesitated, trying to hear and maybe get a hint about where things
were in the order of events. Frowning, he realized that even with his ear to the door he couldn't hear
a thing, not even indistinct voices. God, maybe they really were napping. It had been at least an
hour since Joel had sent the text message letting him know there was fooling around to be done.
That was plenty of time for Joel and his new friend to have their fun and move right into break
time.

Fearing the worst -- two men sound asleep -- Seth unlocked the door and eased it open. He didn't
know he was holding his breath until it whooshed out of him like hot air escaping a balloon, as he
moved forward and into the room.

They didn't seem to hear him. They didn't even seem to hear the slam of the door behind him.

Two bodies, naked and gleaming with either sweat or water from the steaming hot tub were
undulating on the bed, legs and arms all tangled as the pair sucked each other off.

Seth could make out Joel on the top, mostly because Seth would know that ass anywhere at all, and
because the head that was so vigorously moving between Joel's thighs had darker hair than Seth's
lover did.

He thought maybe he should find out the dude's name, at some point. Maybe even before he
became intimately knowledgeable about how the stranger sounded when someone was licking his
balls.

Seth stripped off his ski jacket, dropped it on the floor and walked forward, eyes wide and his gaze
fixed on the way Joel's cock was sliding in and out of swollen lips. The man had his eyes closed,
and he seemed to be lost in concentration, either on what he was doing or on what Joel was doing
to him -- it was hard to tell which. He moaned, or one of them did, and Seth answered with one of
his own, his sound buried under Joel's reply. The bed creaked and Joel's mouth made wet sounds;
all three of them were breathing hard and Seth was almost dizzy with the way his lust was
climbing.

He hadn't even gotten his boots off yet and there he was, one hand rubbing at himself over his jeans
and under his snow pants, zipper open but everything still on. He was close enough to the bed to
smell them, to see the water beads on Joel's spine. It had to be from the hot tub. He leaned forward,
just a bit, and licked Joel's back to make sure, and then several things happened at once.

Joel made a loud, desperate sound and rocked up; Seth grabbed his own balls, hard, and tried to
keep from rubbing off before he'd even gotten in on the fun; and the guy with Joel's cock in his
mouth panicked and tried to get away.

"Easy, easy!" Seth backed off fast to avoid getting whacked by flying limbs. An arm had come up,
then Joel was moving, probably shoved, and Joel was laughing. "Relax, man." Seth said, his hands
up. "I'm not going to hurt you. Joel, tell him."

"Hey, baby." Joel had fallen to the bed, but had managed to grab one of the guy's thighs, or maybe
his hips as he went. "This is Ian. You scared him." Joel seemed more amused than anything else,
and determined to get back to what he'd been doing if the way he was trying to get at Ian's cock was
anything to go by.

"I didn't mean to scare him." Seth tried to look friendly as he undressed, watching the way Ian was
watching him right back. "The door's really quiet and you two were pretty into what you were
doing."

"Maybe you should have said something," Joel suggested helpfully.

"Maybe." Seth nodded and finally managed to get his boots off. "I just wanted a taste."

Ian's eyes were huge and dark, making him look both startled and incredibly turned on. "You didn't
scare me," he finally said. He didn't seem to mind that he was naked or that Joel was nuzzling at his
balls while Seth watched. "I just didn't hear you come in, is all." Then Ian's eyes rolled back a bit.
"Oh, God. Yeah, that."

Seth peeled off his shirts and kicked the snow pants away, watching carefully as his lover started
going down on Ian again. "Where's the lube, baby?" Seth asked, finally getting his clothes all off.

It was Ian who pointed, back toward the hot tub. "Over there. Rubbers, too. Oh, man, that's nice."

"He does like to suck." Seth nodded and hurried to the edge of the tub, grabbing both condoms and
slick. "How many times have y'all gotten off so far?"

Ian groaned and carded his fingers through Joel's hair, his hips starting to rock as he fucked Joel's
mouth. "Just once each. Joel seemed to think you'd want to take your first one fast and hard, then
we'd figure out who's going to watch for a bit."

Seth grinned and rolled a condom on his cock. "He did, huh?" He laughed when Joel lifted a hand
and waved. "He knows me -- unless you like to watch, too?"

"Dunno. I don't see anything wrong with three playing." Ian was watching, though; watching Seth
approach the bed and climb on between Joel's thighs. He was panting hard and one of his hands
was making fists in the sheets.

"I like to watch," Seth told him as he tugged at Joel and made him move. "I like watching Joel
suck, I like watching him get fucked, I like watching him take someone. I like being a part of it,
too, don't get me wrong -- but I'm totally hardwired to watch him playing around. Lucky for me, he
loves me enough to both indulge me and come home to me every time."

Joel lifted his head and grinned. "That's 'cause I love you, honey. Now, shut up and fuck me while I
take care of this lovely boy. Look at his cock, Seth. He's incredible."

Seth looked and nodded. It was a nice big cock, smooth and wide and slick with spit. "It is, indeed.
Move your leg a bit, baby." Seth pumped some lube and slicked himself, then watched Ian's face as
he lined up against Joel's ass. "Do you want to fuck Joel later?"

Ian looked like he was going to come right then and there. He nodded slowly.

"I'm going to watch," Seth told him in a low voice, barely above a whisper. "Sit over on that chair
and stroke off watching you make him yell. But right now I gotta catch up to y'all, okay?"

Ian nodded again and Joel moaned, his legs spreading even wider, knees dragging on the sheets. He
shifted back, too, like he was looking for Seth to just hurry up and get it in.

Seth sank the head of his cock into Joel's body, not bothering to stretch him or lube him; it was part
of their game. He waited until Joel moved, front or back or just an indication that he was too tight
for that kind of thing right then. He got a bit of a squeeze, a fluttering of Joel's muscles, and then
Seth pulled out.

Ian groaned in disappointment and then looked like he wanted to take it back, color coming up high
on his cheeks.

"S'okay," Seth told him with a smile. "I'll get there." Soon, too; he was aching, his balls hot and
heavy in their sac. With slick fingers he opened Joel for him a bit, watching Ian's face. Ian was
trying to watch back, trying to look cool, but his look was fracturing as Joel sucked him with more
and more enthusiasm.

The sex sounds got loud -- the slurp of Joel's mouth, the sighs and moans, the slide of skin on the
sheets, and the lube Seth was working into Joel's ass. Then Ian's hands tightened, the one in the
sheets making a fist and the one on Joel's hair tangling and flexing. "Oh, God. Hurry." Ian gasped
and started fucking Joel's face in earnest.

Seth nodded and rammed his cock into Joel's ass, going deep. It was probably too fast -- Joel's ass
was definitely too tight. Not one of them was going to hold off climaxing more than a moment,
Seth figured, but that was the point. He wanted to be hot and wild for the rest of the day; he wanted
to watch Joel and Ian play and he really only wanted to get off so he could make the next time last
longer.

That, and it was really fucking hot to plug Joel's ass when Joel had a mouthful of cock.

Joel went stiff under him, his ass high and his back arching down as Ian took his mouth. Reaching
around to grab Joel's cock, Seth nodded. "Ian. He's gonna come any second. Do what you want."

Ian's eyes rolled and he pushed deep; Seth felt Joel come, his cock swelling as he shot onto the
sheet and Seth could see the ripples of Ian's stomach muscles as he went, too; the grasp of Joel's ass
was just the icing on the cake and Seth pounded happily into Joel until heat poured out his own
body and release slammed into him in short, driving pulses.

Seth didn't wait for niceties or to go soft -- he wasn't going down for ages, not if he could help it.
He pulled out, kissed Joel's back and left the two of them on the bed while he went to clean up and
get rid of the rubber.

They had hours and hours to fill; he could let them rest up for a while before they played for real.

***

He was the only one hard.

He was also the only one awake. Seth looked at the bed and the tangle of limbs and rolled his eyes.
He'd only been in the shower for five minutes and then he'd come out to find the pair of them all
tucked up against each other, far away from the wet spot, and to all appearances asleep.

On the one hand, yay for king sized beds. On the other, they were asleep. That was taking the
resting up thing a bit far.

Smiling to himself, Seth let his cock lead the way, and he climbed up on the bed next to them and
piled in, curling around Ian's body. As expected, the man started awake; even fucked to tired and
sleepy, he wouldn't be soundly asleep in an unfamiliar room with naked strangers.

"Shh." Seth petted his arm and lay them both back down. "I'm not going to jump you right away."

"Are you sure about that?" Ian wiggled his butt back against Seth's hard on.

"Well, not in the immediate," Seth amended with a grin. "Hi. I'm Seth, Joel's partner. By day, a
mild mannered tax specialist. By night, a domesticated pseudo-husband. But on vacation I'm kind
of a sex fiend."

Ian laughed softly. "Lucky me?"

"You don't sound so sure."

Ian shook his head and a bit of tension eased out of him as he settled back a little more. "I'm having
fun, don't get me wrong. You're both really hot, and I had every intention of hooking up with
someone today. My family is all out there skiing, but they're all partnered and happy and together,
you know? I'm the lone single guy, and I wanted a bit of time for me. I just hadn't banked on a
couple."

"Never been with two before?" That happened to them every so often. Usually when they met up
with someone and got right to the fun stuff, it wasn't a new gig for anyone. Sometimes, though, the
person they invited to bed hadn't been in a threesome before. To Joel's delight and to Seth's
pleasure, those times were often the best. New things meant an increase in enthusiasm. Plus Joel
liked to coach and teach and broaden horizons. "It's okay if you haven't," Seth said before Ian could
answer. "We won't do anything you don't want to. Promise."

"I believe you." Ian's reply was fast -- too fast, and a bit nervous. He didn't seem freaked, though.
"Are you really sure you want to watch me fuck him, though?"

Seth's cock flexed. "Uh-huh. If that's what you want. Please."

"And you'll really just watch?" There was a tone to Ian's voice, almost but not quite a question.
Curiosity and maybe something else.

"If that's what you want," Seth said cautiously. "I don't have to watch if that freaks you out."
Sometimes it did; some guys were really self-conscious, didn't like people watching them be all

naked and unguarded. Other guys really got off on it, playing up to that audience. Ian wasn't giving
off that kind of vibe.

"Well, it's not that," Ian said slowly. "Not exactly." He paused and Seth could feel him tense, a knot
forming right between his shoulder blades.

Not having any of that, Seth slid his hand right to the spot and started rubbing gently. "Okay," he
said easily. He could soothe this body back into the spirit of things and maybe find out what the
curiosity was about. "Not exactly. That's good, 'cause I sure like looking at you."

Ian smiled and snorted at him. "You're very smooth."

"I try to be." Seth grinned and kept touching. "So, that's my kink. You got one?"

"Well, not a kink." Ian stopped again and this time Seth waited, almost tasting the hesitation in Ian's
voice and body, a ripe citrus that was going to bring spring to the Blue Sky Lodge when Ian finally
found the words.

Joel rolled over and then Ian was in a sandwich between them. "If it's not a kink," Joel said with a
wink, "what is it?"

"How long have you been awake?" Seth laughed and leaned way over to kiss Joel's mouth.

"Since you moved the bed, getting in." Joel turned his attention to Ian, cuddling up. "What's got
your attention so nicely, honey?" His arm moved and Seth looked down to see Joel petting Ian's
renewed erection.

"Well, I was just thinking, is all." Ian blushed, but he let Joel fondle him and he very deliberately
moved his own hand to Seth's thigh. "If you two are willing to play, then maybe my one day off the
ski slope to have some fun with you can cover a lot of bases. I might not have been with a couple
before, but now that I am it just seems a waste not to indulge in a few things I've wondered about."

Joel looked up and Seth started a slow smile, meeting Joel's gaze. Oh, yes. They could help Ian out
with trying a few things. "Good one, Joel. I'm glad I left you to pick out the entertainment."

Ian's blush deepened, but he looked pleased. "Me, too. Now, about the ideas I have..."

Snow Vacation
By Julia Talbot

"Snow!"

"Uh-huh."

"Danny. Snow."

Danny set the bags down, smiling at the little attendant who came to put them on one of them gold-
colored carts that every big hotel had. Better the kid than him. Those things never steered worth a
shit.

"I see that," he told Garcia, staring out at the snow from the cover of the valet parking dealie. "It's
white. Cold. Wet."

"Texans." Garcia rolled his eyes. "Why did you come, if you hate it so much?"

"Because you love snow, and I wanted to make you happy. Now shut up."

"Ah. Romance."

The bellhop chuckled, but there was no meanness in it that Danny could tell. Hell, he'd laugh at
them, too. A cowboy and a prissy Mexican queen. God save them. Still, they were going on three
years, weren't they? This was the first time they'd been on vacation in the snow months, though.

Danny really hated snow.

"Come on, babe," he finally said, shivering a bit. "Let's go check in so you can go wallow in it."

The bellhop led the way to the front desk, where a very pretty little girl checked them in, and he
could hear the bag dude talking to Garcia. "You're going to love it here. The slopes shred, and the
food is top notch. You can tell your old man there's a really good hot tub."

Old man. God save him from little assholes who thought sun lines meant age. The tip was going
way down for this kid. By the second.

"He's not that old," Garcia shot back, laughing, and damn, that man was pretty. Tanned skin, dark
brown eyes, and a white smile that lit up the whole place. Who needed sunshine on snow?

"Oh, I didn't mean it that way!" The kid laughed, sounding nervous. "I just meant your main
squeeze, you know?"

"Right."

"Don't pay any attention to Brandon," the desk girl told him. Her nametag said, "Diane". "He's got a
runaway mouth. There you go. Two keys, and you have one of the suites at the end of the west
wing. The ones that sort of look like cabins."

"I can get to it from the inside, right?" He didn't want to slip and slide and make an ass of himself.
Cowboy boots and snow didn't go together, which he'd never even considered. Cowboy boots went
everywhere, so it had come as a shock at the damned airport, when he'd almost slid right under the
rental car.

"You bet. We believe in warmth and comfort."

"So do I." He made a face, and she laughed.

"Well, Brandon is right on one count. We have great hot tubs, and there's a roaring fire in the main
sitting room. Very atmospheric."

"Thanks." At least she hadn't said the fire was 'evocative'. He always wanted to ask, "Evoking
what?" when someone said that.

"You're welcome!"

They trundled on down a series of halls and shit, and he gave the bellhop a five when they finally
got there.

"Alone at last." Garcia stretched and grinned, turning in a full circle.

"Uh-huh. I'm frozen."

"Bummer." Those strong arms dropped to wrap around his shoulders. "There's the hot tub at the
main pool, or there's a whirlpool tub here. We can do it naked that way, huh?"

"Oh. We have a whirlpool?"

"We do." Garcia danced him right to the bathroom to show him. There was a shower stall, a huge
tub with a door and bench seats, and a separate toilet with a privacy wall. The sink had great
lighting and an antique looking mirror, and damn…

"This is bigger than our front room."

"I know, huh? Crazy." Garcia pinched his ass. "Want to, baby?"

"I do. Come on." He turned on the water, hot enough to burn, and once steam and water had filled
the space, he turned on the jets. The sound made him laugh out loud. "Listen to that. We need one
of these."

"Shit, baby. We'd just waste water. This is for luxury."

"Yeah." He liked the bathtub with the door, though. They might have to look into that.

"Come on!" Dropping the last of his clothes, Garcia stepped into the tub, that fine, fine ass and
heavy cock teasing him with glimpses before they disappeared.

"On my way, man." This was so much better than the snow. He'd read once that people in like,
Sweden or something went to the sauna, whacked themselves with sticks, and then hopped into
snow banks.

The very thought made him a little queasy.

Danny pushed the idea aside, stripping off all of the heavy clothes and reaching down to pull his
cowboy boots off. Then he slid right in, sitting across from Garcia on the little bench.

"Oh." The word came out long, drawn out, and happy. "Oh, honey. Warm. Good."

"You know it. This is perfect, huh?" Garcia's toes pushed against his calf, rubbing up and down a
little.

"Let me bask a minute, honey. Then we can play."

"We can bask for a long time, if you want. I just wanted to touch." Garcia shrugged. "We flew,
you've been driving for hours… I figured you'd want to relax and have a nap."

When had he become the old guy who napped instead of the super hot boyfriend? He wasn't gonna
argue, though. He was pooped.

"That's cool. I'm sorry, Ro. I'm just winding down." Garcia's first name was Raul. It was just easier
to call him Ro.

"No worries, baby. I'm pretty tired, too. That last job before we left was a cluster fuck."

"I'm sorry." He hadn't even known. He'd been too busy fighting his neighbor in court. Asshole's
bull had taken down all sorts of fence and caused a traffic accident. Bastard had tried to blame it on
Danny's cows. "You think Linda and Dane will be all right looking after the place?"

Garcia gave him a look, brown eyes twinkling. "Linda is your sister. Of course she will."

“Right.” He couldn’t help being nervous. They’d taken long weekends before, but this was nearly a
two week ski trip. They had animals. Dogs. Garcia had a construction business, that was right now
in the hands of the main foreman. It made him a little crazy.

“Baby. Please tell me you aren’t going to harp on this. Hell, it’s one reason we’re on vacation.”

Garcia had begged him. Told him they never did anything fun anymore. Just worked. They had the
money. Why not go now?

Danny had agreed because, well, it had surprised him. Garcia hardly ever asked for anything. The
man could work like a dog and never complain. It was time to cowboy up and smile for his man.

“Not gonna harp on that. Can’t promise the same about the snow.”

“Jesus.” The man was laughing again, though. “Put your head back and close your eyes. Let the
water relax you.”

He did just that, resting his head against the back of the tub. He let his foot float up and touch
Garcia’s leg, the tiny touch feeling so good that he immediately felt bad at assuming Ro’s touch
had meant sex.

“I love you, honey.”

Garcia drew in a deep breath, the sound sharp, and Danny opened his eyes. “What?”

“I don’t think you’ve ever said that when it wasn’t just after sex.” Those dark eyes bored right into
his. “I love you, too.”

Danny nodded, wiggling his toes. “I know.”

“Asshole.”

“Yep.”

“Well, I’ll count myself lucky.”

“You should. Not every day a crusty old cowboy like me gets his romance on.” He managed to
keep the laughter at bay. Mostly.

“Not every day a Mexican admits he’s gay.” Garcia’s toes nudged his balls. “I think you’re the
lucky one.”

Damn. Danny smiled, closing his eyes again, really relaxing into the jets of the tub. “I always have
been, honey.”

***

Raul woke up feeling warm and heavy, his muscles completely relaxed for the first time in who
knew how long.

Man, sometimes working construction made a man feel old. Especially when he got to be the boss,
and all the screw-ups rested firmly on his shoulders. He rolled to his side, feeling Danny’s arm
slide off his waist, and he glanced out the window.

The big, plate glass window that was not his, with several feet of white stuff out there, waiting to be
played in.

In fact, it looked like it was snowing now.

He was gonna wake up Danny, but the deep breathing behind him told him that Danny was
sleeping real good, and his Texan wouldn’t be thrilled to wake up to yet more flakes.

It had surprised Raul to no end when Danny had agreed to this vacation. One night, late, when
Danny had been up all night with a sick mare and Raul had thrown his back out again doing roofing
so every little touch was agony… well. He’d begged.

“Baby, I never see you,” he’d told Danny. “God knows we never have sex.”

“Oh, now. That ain’t fair,” Danny had protested. “I love on you a lot.”

“When was the last time?”

Danny had stopped, mouth open to answer, and then shook his head. “I don’t know, honey. We
been busy.”

“We have. We always are. We should go on vacation.”

Danny had stared, eyebrows going up. “It’s winter.’

“I know that.” They’d had a lean Christmas, not because they were broke, but because Raul had
been working a hotel in Corpus. “We could go skiing.”

“Snow? You want me to go where there’s snow?”

Raul had snapped a little at that. “God forbid, right? Jesus, you’re the least spontaneous person
ever.”

Danny had surprised him then, grinning and shaking his head. “That a dare? Okay, Ro. Book us a
vacation. Linda can watch the place.”

No one had to tell him to hurry and do just that. He’d booked the Blue Sky Lodge the next day,
reading all about how it was gay friendly. He hadn’t told Danny that. He’d probably have a cow.

He rolled out of the big bed, shivering a little at how cold it was, even with the heat on. Man, it just
never got that cold in central Texas.

“Pretty, huh?”

Danny’s voice made him jump. Raul hadn’t heard the change in his breathing at all.

“It is. Didn’t know if you’d think so.”

“Hey, you like it. I can deal. And it is pretty when you’re not out in it.” Danny’s stomach growled.
Loud. “So, they say the food is good here.”

“That’s what they say. Want room service?”

“Shit yes. With coffee.”

“Well, come look at the menu with me.”

They pored over the menu together, debating over beef versus chicken or fish, Danny laughing
when Raul suggested a salad.

“Me and rabbit food? No way.”

“Uh-huh. Grass is what you feed your cows.”

“Exactly.” Danny pinched his ass. “I want the steak and shrimp.”

“You know we’re landlocked here. Nowhere to get fresh shrimp.”

“That means it will be fresher, as they freeze it the same hour or so it’s caught.”

The argument was an old one, and it made them both smile. Finally he just picked up the phone and
ordered, steak and shrimp, a huge burger, nachos, two pieces of pie, and enough coffee and beer to
float a boat.

Then Raul dug in his suitcase and pulled out some sleep pants before snuggling back in the bed
with Danny. Oh. Fuck that felt good. Usually he and Danny went to bed at very different times, and
they only got to just feel each other in the middle of the night, if one or both of them happened to
wake up to go to the bathroom or something. Raul was way more likely to wake up with one of the
dogs.

This was so much better.

He wrapped an arm around Danny’s lean waist and spooned, humming happily.

“Feels nice, huh, honey?”

“It does. Warm.”

“Well, if you didn’t pick the coldest place on earth for a vacation…”

“Hey, just think. If we were home, you’d be bitching that it was too hot to snuggle. Too sticky.” It
was just starting on spring at home, with Valentine’s Day just around the corner. The weather was
seriously unpredictable, and the spring rains were always hanging in the air.

“You have no idea how much more I’ll appreciate it after this, huh?”

Raul laughed and nipped at the back of Danny’s neck. “Sure I do. You’ll remind me daily.”

“Mmm.”

They lay there, breathing in sync, both of them staring at the window, until the room service guy
knocked on the door.

Signing it to the room felt like a rich bitch kind of thing to do, but it was damned fun. He wrote the
tip in, too, as he didn’t have his wallet in his sleep pants.

“Thanks!” The waiter was adorable, a mix of emo boy and snowboarder. Raul would bet anything
he was queer.

“You think they hire anyone who’s not gay? Danny asked once the kid was gone.

“Dan! Of course they do. That would be discrimination or something.” Lord, the food smelled
good.

“Well, it’s gay friendly.” When he stared over, Danny grinned. “I know how to Google. Come eat
with me.”

“I thought you’d shit a brick.”

“Well, I may be old and crusty, but I’m not above being glad I can hold your hand.”

Man, Raul thought he might just fall over. First an unprompted declaration of love. Now a show of
intent to touch him in public. Who knew his beautiful cowboy had it in those tight Wranglers?

They settled in to eat, and the burger and the steak were damned good. So was the shrimp, though
he didn’t admit it out loud. The best part was the pie, though. The pastry chef must be something
else.

“What do you want to do now, honey?” Danny asked once the room service tray was outside their
door.

“You know, I’m easy.”

“I’ve heard that about you,” Danny agreed, reaching for him, hand sliding over his back.

“Yeah? What else have you heard?”

“Hmm. That you like snow, and that you snore loud enough to make the dogs howl.”

“We don’t have the dogs here.” He chuckled. Sad to say, that was true. Daisy had woke up more
than once, howling along with him madly.

“Good thing. We might scar them for life, with what I want to do.”

Now, that sounded intriguing. “Well, you could tell me about it.”

“Rather just do it.” Rising up on one elbow, Danny kissed his shoulder, then his neck. “Why don’t
we just stay in tonight? Rest up. Do something spontaneous right here in bed?”

His cock jerked, and Raul slid out of the soft pants he’d put on, pushing back against Danny’s bare
skin. “I say that’s a fine idea, baby. Really good, in fact.”

“Woo. Never let it be said I don’t take advantage of all of that protein and napping and shit.”

Raul turned over just far enough to get his mouth pressed to Danny’s. “Nope. I would never say
any such thing.”

***

Time three days had passed, Danny was warming up to the snow.

Oh, he would never want to live in it. Hell, he'd never want to play in it, really. But Raul liked it so,
and Danny was reaping the benefits of it more than daily. Raul came in from skiing with rosy
cheeks and a smile, and a strong urge to cuddle and get warm.

Yeah. Danny liked that part a lot.

He stomped snow off the boots he'd bought down in town, laughing at how they'd gotten up the
morning after they'd arrive, and the very first thing Danny had done after they left their room was
bust his ass on the sidewalk. He'd been right about the cowboy boots not working.

He'd gone on down to the little restaurant about two miles down the road. Not that the lodge didn't
have good food. They did. But he'd heard from the one little bellhop, Bobby, that the place down
the way was run by a misplaced Texan, and that they had chili cheese fries.

The kid was a doll, even if he did look at Danny like he was an old man who needed to be drinking
Ensure instead of going out for food.

Raul was due back in about two minutes from a lesson, and Danny figured his timing was about
perfect.

Chili cheese fries, hamburger steaks, and chocolate pie. Familiar and good in a world that was all
white and icy and cold. Danny approved.

He got their feast set up on the little table by the window just about the time Raul came in, parka
unzipped, ski suit looking like it had been through a war. He was covered in water and mud, all
lopsided and funky.

"What happened, honey?" Danny asked, staring a little. Okay, staring a lot. He couldn’t believe
people did this for fun.

"I fell down." Ro laughed, spreading his hands. "A lot. I was great on the mini hills. Not so good on
the intermediate slopes. And then, uh, well. You know Bobby?”

The bellhop strikes again. “Yeah. Yeah, he’s a good kid.”

“Well, his boyfriend is a snowboard instructor.”

“You went snowboarding?” Shit, that was some crazy stuff.

“I tried.” That grin was wry as anything. “It went poorly.”

"Well, I got you a treat. Come and sit."

"Will you give me a massage later?"

"You know it." He didn't have to be conned into that. He loved to touch Raul. Silly man. Danny
held out a hand, and Raul stripped down to the bulky pants and a long john shirt before coming to
take the offered fingers.

"Oh, man, you're warm." Raul's hand was like fucking ice.

"Didn't you wear gloves, honey?" Danny reached up with his free hand and chafed a little. The skin
was almost blue. Christ.

"I did, but I told you, I spent a lot of time wallowing in the snow. So, what did you bring me?"

Danny grinned, opening containers. "Look. Chili and cheese, man."

"Oh. Oh, tell me it's chili and not spaghetti masquerading as."

It was hard, when you left Texas. Maybe New Mexico. Real chili was a hard thing to find.

"Texas transplant," Danny said, proud as punch that he'd done some legwork.

"I do love you." Raul plopped right down and grabbed half the fries.

"There's hamburger steak and onions and gravy, and chocolate pie."

Those pretty dark eyes flashed to his, and Raul moaned. "I think we'll skip the massage and go right
to the part where I blow you. You rock, baby."

"I could go for that. You'll have to warm up first, though." If the mouth was as cold as the hands?
No way was the man going to blow him until he had… "Oh, let me order some coffee from room
service. To go with the pie, huh?"

They couldn’t get decent iced tea up here, but the coffee was kind of amazing, These folks took
their coffee seriously.

"Good idea." Raul gave him a smile, real and honest and hot as blazes. "Thanks, baby."

"Hey, I had to do something since I didn't go skiing with you."

"Will you go tomorrow?"

"Maybe." The idea made him queasy. "Eat."

"Sure. Sure." Raul tucked in, and for a while there was nothing but chewing. Until the coffee came.
Then there was moaning and licking forks. The chocolate pie even had a pecan crust.

"Jesus, that was amazing." Danny sucked the last bit off his plate.

"It really hit the spot, baby. Thanks." Raul stood, gathering up containers and tossing them. "Come
have a bath with me?"

They'd gotten a little obsessive about the amazing whirlpool tub, hopping in whenever the urge
took them. It might have seemed like a waste of water in Texas, where they weren't surrounded by
the frozen state of the stuff. Up here it seemed like a luxury, but an attainable one.

“You bet.” They wandered to the bathroom hand in hand, which was something they’d done a lot
of, just like Danny had hoped. Hell, they’d held hands in the dining room yesterday morning, just
sitting and drinking coffee and reading the paper.

Danny figured he was like to get spoiled.

That might be a bad thing, once they got back to Texas.

Then again, they probably had a better chance there than they would up here, anywhere but this
lodge.

“You want that massage now?”

Raul just hugged his neck harder, kissing him just under his chin. “Later, baby. Later.”

***

Raul glanced over at Danny and tried not to laugh. They were on the bunny slope, and Danny was
tricked out against the cold tighter than a virgin’s chastity belt. He looked like the Michelin man on
a pair of Popsicle sticks.

Still, his cowboy was gamely trying to learn to ski for him, out in fifteen feet of powder with a little
blonde ski bunny at the helm.

“That’s good,” she was telling Danny. “Now just tilt the front tips of your skis this way.”

Raul demonstrated, knowing that Danny learned better by watching that he did by being told.

“Lot easier on skis than it is on cowboy boots, huh, baby?”

The little girl tittered, glancing at them from the corner of her eyes. She thought they were cute.
She’d said so twice.

“It’s cold.” Danny grinned. “But the ski lift was fun.”

“Adrenaline junkie.”

“Uh-huh.”

He noticed that Danny never denied it.

“Oh, then you should so try snowboarding sometime,” their little instructor said. “You can really
shred, then. Fly is a great instructor.”

“Uh, yeah. Raul looked like he’d been shredded after a day with the kid. I’ll stick to having my feet
independently strapped to things.” Danny waved his arms for balance. “Shit!”

“Okay, whoa. Here, like this.”

She showed Danny a few tricks to keep his balance, and that helped. An hour later their time was
up, and Danny’s teeth were chattering. Poor thing looked miserable, but Raul was happy, so happy
he could about bust. He’d gotten to go skiing. With Danny. It would probably only happen once in
his life, so he had to feel it all, take it all in.

“You ready to go get warm, baby?”

“I am.” Danny clomped over sideways. “Get me out of these so I can tip her and all.”

“This way.” You couldn’t just take off your skis and sink to your waist. They got everything set to
rights and all, tipping Katie a good forty bucks. She giggled and wiggled them all the way back to
the tram that went back to the lodge.

“Did you have fun, honey?” Danny asked, gloved hand settling on his leg.

“I did! Thank you for coming out with me.” Somehow it meant more than the public touches and
the chili cheese fries.

“You’re welcome.” Laughing, Danny shook his head. “Ain’t nobody gonna believe it back home.”

“They will. I had a little disposable camera all day.”

“Oh, damn.” They laughed hard over that, both of them cackling until people stared and started
smiling, too. Joy was contagious. People loved to see it and share in it.

They got back to the lodge and headed into the main dining room to sit by the big fire. So pretty.
Warm, too. A hot buttered rum, a big chicken sandwich, and some coconut cream pie, and they
were back to their room, stripping down to take a shower together.

The water was hot, the soap slick, and they got to touching, loving on each other, Danny knowing
just where to press and stroke to make him crazy. It had been so long since they’d reveled in each
other that way, since they’d spent days together, doing what felt good.

They were just having the time of their lives.

Danny put both hands on his cheeks, tilting his face up so the spray hit the back of his head.
“Happy, honey? Did I make up for lost time?”

“And then some.” They both had. Oh, they’d get busy again, forget to be good to each other. Raul
would say something sooner, this time. Say something more, now that he knew Danny would
listen.

“Then the snow? It was worth every cold minute.”

Looping his arms around Danny’s neck, Raul laughed. “I love you, baby.”

“You’d better.” Danny kissed him. Hard. “I love you, too.”

***

“Dude, do you think they’re all made up and shit?” Bobby asked Fly when the hot Mexican guy
and the bow-legged cowboy walked out, putting their suitcases in the trunk of the rental car.

“What?” Fly was a top notch snowboarder, but he was kind of clueless sometimes. Billy worked
the bell desk, and that was the place to see what all was happening at the lodge.

“Those guys. They were all making up for something. The cowboy hated the snow.”

“Dude. You’re so nosy.” Fly shook his head. “I mean nosy-nosy. What business is it of yours?”

“I just think it’s sweet, is all. Are you going to take me on vacation when we’re old and crusty like
that?”

“I take you to the hot springs now, don’t I?” Fly looked majorly offended.

“Well, yeah. I know. But this was like, expensive.”

Fly just laughed. “If I ever have the money, then sure. You want a coffee?”

“Yeah.” Bobby checked his watch. “I just got off duty. Let’s go.”

“Cool.” Fly poked his butt. “They weren’t that old, you know.”

“Sheeyah. They had to be thirty.”

“You think?” When he nodded, Fly shrugged. “Huh. Well, that’s pretty old.”

“It’s cute that they still think each other are hot, though. You know?”

“Yeah.”

They watched the car pull away before Fly grabbed his hand. “So. Coffee and then hot monkey
sex?”

Bobby nodded, forgetting the ex-patrons just that easily. “Yeah. Sounds good.”

They headed out of the lodge, going for Fly’s Jeep. Just about the time they started down the
mountain toward the nearest Starbucks, it started to snow.

It was a pretty cool day to be alive.

Summer Fling
By Sean Michael

Allan had to admit it, he was enjoying himself immensely. Sun, huge blue sky, mountains
everywhere surrounding the pool, all the fancy little umbrella drinks he wanted, delivered by
beautiful, tanned men. Hell, all the munchies he wanted, including a fine Mexican spread. This
vacation thing was living up to the hype Jeff and Linds had given it.

Day three found him poolside, simply looking to relax. He'd spent his first day horseback riding
and his second day white water rafting. He was hoping to go for another rafting trip before his
week was up, the scenery was unbelievably beautiful and the screes were giving him all sorts of
ideas and effects to try to incorporate in his landscaping business back home. Not to mention the
basic excitement.

He started out in a nice comfy chair, but was soon bored. He just wasn't cut out for lying in the sun
doing nothing. So he liberated a few pieces of paper from the lobby and started sketching out some
ideas for an English garden.

Once he had the bower drawn in, roses and trellises galore, he started a labyrinth.

He got tons of compliments, the guys passing by looking at his drawing, then commenting and
smiling. They weren't the only ones watching though. There was a lean, long-haired man in a
lounge chair, headphones on, book in his lap, sunglasses on, watching him.

Allan was curious about the guy. Unlike a lot of the other people here, the brunet was... self-
contained. With his sunglasses and headphones, he seemed to be apart from everyone else. Very
cool, very calm. At least on the surface.

He aimed a smile in the man's direction, rubbing the pencil between his fingers. He got a quiet little
smile back, the book in the man's lap forgotten, it looked like.

He decided to design something more modern. Xeroscaping. Drawing with huge sweeping strokes.

Okay, so he was showing off, but who could blame him? The guy watching him had an air of old
money about him, like many of Allan's clients, but there was also a hint of passion there, not to
mention a lovely body, even if there was a cast on one arm.

He definitely had the guy's attention, the smile wide, warm. His own smile turned into a grin and he
nodded his head.

Hello, sexy.

Those high-cheekbones flushed a sweet pink, but the guy nodded back.

Allan licked some sweat from off his upper lip and drew a mass of elm trees, lining a fence. The
guy dug in a little cooler, came up with two bottles of water, offered one over.

Grinning, Allan got up, wiping the sweat off on his swim trunks. He took the water. "Thanks, man.
It's pretty hot."

"You're welcome." The guy's voice was sweet, smooth, musical.

He nodded to the chair next to the guy. "Anyone sitting here?"

"No. I'm not here with anyone. Have a seat." The music was turned off, MP3 player shuffled
awkwardly into a bag.

He tugged the chair a little closer and sat, holding his hand out. "I'm Allan."

The uncasted hand was held out. "Chad. Nice to meet you. You make great landscapes."

He grinned. "Thanks. Occupational hazard." He winked and nodded at Chad's arm. "You clipped a
wing."

Chad nodded. "I was in a car accident. I can't work, so I'm vegging."

"You sure picked a nice spot to do it." He settled back in his chair, enjoying the shade the umbrella
offered, watching the blue, blue sky as he took a nice long drink from his bottle.

"Yeah, it was fun, to watch you work."

Allan grinned. Oh, he liked a man who was straightforward. Especially when it was unexpected.

"I work with my hands, so it's a hobby."

"It didn't look like blue-collar work, now."

He grinned, nodded once. "I'm a landscape artist. I've got my own little business and I turn rich
folks' lawns into something special." Now some might think he was dressing it up, but it was the
truth. He was damned proud of the work he did.

"Yeah? That sounds rewarding, good. I play the violin."

"No kidding? Like, professionally?" A musician. It fit.

"Yes. The Westphalia Symphony."

"Really? I'm from Watson myself." What were the odds of that?

"Really?" Dark green eyes peered over the sunglasses. "Cool."

Oh. Oh, pretty eyes. Maybe even beautiful.

"Who knows maybe I've even seen you play." Okay, so he'd only seen the Symphony once, but
who knew.

"Oh? You're a music fan? What's your favorite song?"

He felt the color on his cheeks. It had been a stupid thing to say. "Well I love music, yeah. But I've
only seen the Symphony the once. It's an awful pricy ride."

"Not all music is classical." That smile didn't fade. "What's your favorite song?"

"All My Loving. My Mom used to sing it to me all the time."

"Yeah? Mine is 'Ave Maria'."

"To listen to, sing or play?"

"Listen to. Playing? I like Telemann's Suite in A Minor. Singing? You've Lost that Loving
Feeling."

"Why that one?"

Those eyes smiled. "I like the harmony, the doo wop."

"The doo wop? Now there's a word I don't expect to hear from a violinist."

"We're not all stuffy." Chad smiled. "Just focused."

Allan laughed. "I get focused."

"Yeah? It's a good quality."

"It gets stuff done, anyway. Not always what you meant to get done mind you." He offered Chad a
wink.

Chad chuckled. Man, that smile was something else. "I don't know. I tend to get things done."

"I'm good with work things." He was pretty disciplined about work. It was the weekends that could
get away with him. Especially when he worked on Saturdays.

"What's your favorite part of your job?" Chad settled, fingers wiggling out of the end of the cast.

"Oh definitely the dirt." He held up his hand, grinning. His nails had a layer of dirt under them, they
always seemed to. Probably had dirt from back home on them, too.

Chad laughed, nodded. "Down to earth, huh?"

He laughed at the pun. "You could call me that. I just love the way the dirt smells, how it feels." He
shrugged. "I like to cook, too, for the same reason -- and yes, that means I tend to use my hands to
mix and stuff."

"After you wash them." The grin widened, teasing and playful.

He threw his head back and laughed. "Yes, Chad, I wash them first. I promise."

Chad's laugh sounded good, warm. Happy. "Oh, good, because that grit can't be good for your
teeth."

"If I were a dog it would clean them." He winked again and took another drink of his water. "So I
guess you haven't done much swimming with the arm and all."

"No. I haven't even dipped my feet in." Chad shrugged. "It's pretty, but..."

"Oh, you've got to at least get your toes wet!"

He stood up and held out a hand. "Come on, I'll go with you -- make sure you don't drown."

Those pretty green eyes smiled up at him, hand sliding into his. "What about your artwork? Aren't
you worried someone will splash it?"

"That's kind of a given, isn't it?" He winked. "We're at the pool."

He pulled Chad up, their bodies suddenly close together, those eyes looking right into his own.

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess it is..." Chad smelled good -- coconut and male and heat.

And he wasn't backing off, either. Allan breathed in deeply, also not backing off.

He wasn't sure how long they stood there, smiling at each other, close enough to kiss, but then
someone went running by, dripped water hitting their legs and the spell was broken.

"Come on then. The pool awaits."

"Let me stow my bag." Chad's body brushed against his, warm and close as he grabbed the bag
with iPod and book.

Oh, he liked the way Chad moved, the way he felt. Allan cleared his throat. "Ready?"

"Yeah." The long hair brushed against him, silky and soft. "I am."

He took Chad's hand again and started slowly toward the pool. "The design is pretty cool, isn't
they? And the way the shape comes in and out."

"Mmmhmm. And the way it's hidden up here in the mountains. It's amazing."

"It feels good, too. Come on, slip off your flip flops."

He took his own off and picked them up in his free hand.

Chad hesitated, but slid them off, carefully deposited them in a side pocket of the bag, put the bag
near the edge of the pool.

He tugged on Chad's hand, leading him down onto the carved, concrete steps. "I love this."

"Oh!" Chad laughed, squeezed his hand. "It's almost bubbly."

"Yeah, it feels awesome." He grinned and squeezed back, pulled Chad in deeper still, figuring they
were safe up to their waist or so, both of them wearing shorts.

"Do you come to the mountains often?"

He shook his head. "This is my first time ever. I might have to come back."

Chad nodded, turning toward him a little as a group of volleyball players splashed by.

"You?"

Oh, the water brought out the green in Chad's eyes.

"I've been out in the winter before, but not in the summer." Chad shrugged. "I don't ski, but I love
to watch."

"You don't ski?"

"I've never even tried."

He tilted his head. "Really?"

Chad nodded. "This is my first vacation without my parents and they're both very concerned that
I'll hurt my hands."

"So they took you to the snow and didn't let you ski?" He was horrified.

"Well, I got to go on the lifts, saw elk."

"That's pretty cool."

He laughed as the volleyball splashed between them, this one with a little umph behind it, wetting
his chest and face.

Chad's laugh joined with his, sweet and low.

The breeze off the mountains was blowing Chad's hair around and he reached out, brushing it back
off Chad's face.

Chad smiled. "This is fun, feels good."

He nodded. "Yeah. It is. It does."

"Do you... do you have plans for dinner?"

"No, as a matter of fact, I don't." Nice and straightforward, he was liking Chad more every moment.

"Would you like to?"

"I would like to have plans with you, yes. Have you tried the patio restaurant yet?"

"No, is it good?" Those eyes were happy, shining in the sun.

"I don't know, I haven't tried it yet myself. It seems to be a bit ritzier and I wanted to be able to take
my time. My first two days involved a lot of going and doing and dirt and I was wiped. Early
nights. We could try it together."

"I'd like that. Very much."

"Excellent. I'm looking forward to it."

"Me too." Chad squeezed his hand again. "Me too."

He grinned and nodded and then started walking along the edge of the pool, their feet splashing
through the water.

Chad held onto his hand, arms swinging.

It was nice, quiet and peaceful and a little bit exciting at the same time. Something new was
happening.

***

He didn't wear a suit, because it was the July and it was hot and, well, because he couldn't fasten
the cuff anyway. So Chad put on a nice silk T-shirt, slacks, brushed his hair until it shone.

Allen was the first nice thing that had happened to him since the car accident.

He sighed, glared at the cast. Two more weeks. Then a month to recover and practice and then he
was getting his job back.

Damn it.

He made sure the room was straight and neat, then grabbed his wallet, his card key and headed out
to find a certain broad-shouldered, smiling red-head.

Allan was sitting at the bar, a beer with a lime sticking out of the top of the bottle in front of him.
He was looking over toward the mountains, looking relaxed and easy in a pair of shorts and a short
sleeved dark blue shirt.

It made Chad glad that he'd not dug out his shiny dress shoes and stuck with the flip flops. He
wasn't a complete dork. "Allan."

Allan turned toward him, face lighting up with a wide smile. "Chad!"

Standing, Allan came over and took his good hand, giving it a squeeze. "I hope you're hungry -- the
menu looks almost as good as you do."

He blushed, grinned. Flatterer. "What's their specialty?"

"Surf and turf. I am a happy, happy man." Allan grabbed his beer and nabbed a waitress. "We're
ready to sit now."

Chad chuckled, followed along. There was something primal and wonderful about Allan.
Something luscious. "Are you sure you want to eat seafood here? Where there is no sea?"

They were shown to a seat at the far end of the patio, looking right out over the edge. The sun was
setting over the mountains, little lanterns on the tables starting to throw flickering light out.

A nice breeze blew off the mountains, the sound of the leaves rustling constant.

"I just can't get over how nice it is here," murmured Allan. "If I had, I might have done this ages
ago."

"It's beautiful. So peaceful." He glanced over at Allan. Such amazing company.

Allan nodded, smiling at him. "It is."

Their waitress came over and the moment slipped away. "You want to share some appetizers first,
Chad? Like this combo platter that lets you try a bit of everything?"

"Oh, that works." He grinned over, held up his hand. "That way there's nothing that'll need cutting."

Allan chuckled and ordered the combo platter for them to share and then surf and turf for himself as
an entree, making sure he was getting the one that included the shrimp and the lobster tails. "What
are you going to have Chad? Oh, and if you want wine, I'm afraid you'll have to order it. I'm more a
beer man."

He ordered the shrimp scampi for himself and a glass of chardonnay and water. "Yeah? I haven't
experimented with many beers."

"Oh, I haven't really experimented, though I've always kind of wanted to try my own, you know?
But I do like a good dark draft, the local breweries and stuff. Big company beer is... well you need
often need a lime."

He chuckled, nodded. "My father has an extensive wine cellar for his parties, so I guess I have a
taste for them."

Allan nodded. "You struck me as the type."

Chad blushed, ducked his head. "Is that bad?"

Allan chuckled. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that to sound like an insult. You just have an air of old
money around you."

Chad nodded. "My father is David Winston and so was my grandfather, so yeah." Generations of
money and arts and culture and old stone homes on the coast.

"No kidding?" Allan nodded. "I've heard of them."

"Yep. I'm David Chadwick Winston III." He winked over. "No wonder I go by Chad, huh?"

Allan chuckled. "That's a hell of a name to saddle a kid with. You seem to have lived up to it
though, what with playing in the symphony and all."

He nodded. "I'll never be the conductor my father is, but I do okay." Maybe even more than okay.

"Are you happy?" Allan asked.

"Hmm? With what?"

"With what you're doing? I mean being famous and at the top of your game and rich is one thing,
but I measure a man's success by how happy he is."

"Oh, I love the music. I..." He shrugged, smiled. "It's my world. The rest is just details."

Allan grinned and nodded. "I hear you. I'm at the point that next spring I'm going to hire someone
on to do the paperwork, run the office for me and I'm so looking forward to being able to just dig
and work outside."

"Oh, yeah? Congratulations! I have an apartment, but I have flowers on the balcony. Pansies in the
spring."

"Pretty. I have a trailer out on a plot of land. Lets me play."

"Neat." He smiled. "I used to want to live out on some land, but there's no reason."

"No? Not even if it feeds your soul?"

"Well, I live a building away from Symphony hall, from the practice hall." He smiled. "My whole
life is sort of built around the music."

"Is there anything in your life that isn't about the music?" Allan asked, smiling and nodding as their
waitress brought a large round plate full of appetizers.

"No." He shook his head, picked a mushroom. "Not really."

"Wow. What about lovers?" Allan didn't even blush when he asked the question, dark eyes curious,
watching him.

He looked down at his plate, then looked back up. "I had one once in college and, uh, I sort of blew
some classes off and, well, multitasking isn't my strongest suit. I'm sort of focused on the job. I
haven't played in two weeks. That's the longest since I learned to play when I was three."

"No kidding? Longest time away from playing since you were three? That's some dedication."

Allan helped himself to nibbles of this and that off their plate of appetizers. "So no lovers because
they're distracting? That's very... monkish."

"Well, it was that way when I was younger. Now it's more... lack of opportunity, I guess." He
wasn't beautiful or flirtatious or funny. He was a musician. "We don't get groupies like the rock
stars."

"Well you're very aloof." Allan shook his head. "No, that's not the right word... self-contained. At
first look you don't seem to need anyone."

Self-contained was a nice way to say quiet and boring. "I just take a while to get to know people,
normally."

Allan tilted his head. "Yeah? I didn't mean to insult you, Chad. You seem very... peaceful. That's
not always easy to approach, you know?"

He thought about that a minute, then nodded. "Yeah. I can see that." And he could. Stillness was
hard to disrupt.

Allan gave him a grin suddenly. "You're not my usual type at all."

"No? What's your usual type?"

"Like me, I guess. Pretty physical, earthy. Not monied." Allan smiled. "But I was drawn to you.
Your smile."

He'd never thought of 'monied' as a type before. Of course, he hadn't talked to someone who wasn't
a reporter or a musician in a long time, either. "Thank you." That seemed the best thing to say, to
nod and smile more and eat another mushroom.

Allan shook his head and chuckled. "I'm not exactly hitting a homerun here, am I?"

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to seem awkward. Tell me about your business?" He didn't want to eat
supper alone again because he was a hopeless dork.

"You're not awkward, I'm being insensitive." Allan gave him a wink. "It's not my forte. But my
business? Now there I shine. TreeArt is the name of my landscaping company. I do everything
from grass to flowers to trees. Lots of business from folks in your area. I like being able to design
stuff from the ground up, but if I'm not given leeway I can live with that, too."

"Yeah? I can see the McNair park from my windows, the flower garden there is stunning."

"Thank you. I designed that."

"Oh? Wow!" He spent hours looking at it, letting it center him.

Allan nodded. "I didn't put it in, but I did design it. Color choice and everything."

"It's beautiful. It's my favorite part of my apartment. The view, I mean."

Allan smiled. "I chose flowers so that there would always be some in bloom."

"Thank you."

Their food came, and the wine, and things were easier, more relaxed, Allan talking about the
different gardens he'd designed. The food was delicious, Allan obviously enjoying it, though Chad
thought perhaps he was enjoying the company even more.

"You want dessert?" Allan asked him.

"I could share one. There's a chocolate cherry thing that looks lush."

"Sounds good to me." Allan gave him a warm smile and reached out to squeeze his hand.

He squeezed back, grinned. "It's wonderful, having someone to talk with over supper."

"This sure beats shouting at someone over burgers at the bar. Not that that isn't fun too, but this is...
really nice."

He laughed, nodded. "We could go for a walk after, if you want."

Allan nodded. "Yeah. I'm finding I don't want our evening to be over yet."

"Oh. Cool." He blushed, ordered their dessert and one more glass of wine, this one red and richer.

Allan ordered a Bailey's Irish coffee and sat back, watching him. "So what happened with the
arm?"

"I was in Seattle with the symphony. My taxi driver had a heart attack and we crashed." He
wrinkled his nose. "It was very messy."

"Oh, man, that's awful!" Allan's hand reached for his again, squeezed again. "I'm glad you weren't
hurt any worse."

"Oh, me too. I..." He shuddered. "It could have been horrible."

"You hurt your arm, I imagine that was horrible enough."

"I thought..." He touched the cast. "I was scared, for a minute."

"I'll bet." Allan's eyes were soft.

"Yeah, but it was all okay." He smiled over. "And I made a new friend."

"You did indeed. Maybe more than just a friend..."

Chad blinked, but nodded, meeting Allan's eyes, so blue. That got him a slow, heated smile. It set a
fire deep in his belly, made him swallow a moan.

Allan's eyes held his until their waitress came with the wine, coffee and dessert. "I'm glad we
decided to share," murmured Allan.

"Yeah, me too." He scooped up a cherry, offered it over.

Allan leaned forward, mouth open, tongue coming out to lick at the red fruit.

Oh. Sexy.

He was staring.

Allan finally took the whole cherry into his mouth, letting the spoon slide out slowly from between
his lips. "Oh, that's yummy."

"Uh-huh..." Chad just nodded, licking his own lips. "Yummy."

Allan smiled and took the spoon from his hand, filling it with another bite of the dessert and
offering it to him. "We should at least make an attempt to finish this..."

He opened his mouth, took a bite. Oh. Tart. Sweet. Rich. Yum.

Allan groaned. "Oh, maybe we should just go for that walk."

"And miss out on our dessert?" He grinned over, flirting.

"I'm willing to stand in as a replacement."

"Oh..." He pulled out a credit card, motioned to the waiter.

"I'm not going to fight you on paying the bill if you promise to let me get tomorrow night's."

"That's fair." He smiled over. "Besides, I invited you to dinner."

"Does that mean I have to wait for you to invite me up to your room?"

"No. You don't have to wait." What was he doing?

"Once your credit card comes back, anyway." Allan's eyes were shining and his hand was taken,
squeezed again.

He nodded, heart pounding. "Yeah. Yeah."

On cue the waitress returned with his card and they were done. Allan stood, held out a hand to him.
"Show me your room, Chad."

"I'd love to." He slid his hand in Allan's, heading out of the restaurant and over to his suite.

Allan's hand was warm in his, full of promise.

The moon was full, huge over the mountains. "Oh, look. How beautiful."

"Yes, it is," murmured Allan, most definitely not looking at the moon.

Chad blushed dark, looking up into Allan's eyes. "Oh."

"Are we going to be there soon? Because I want to kiss you and I don't want to wait."

"I'm right on the first floor. Number 102. Right here." Easy to get to from the long veranda around
the building.

"I might be able to wait until we're inside then."

"Maybe." He fumbled with his card key, got the door open. "Please, come in."

"Thank you." Allan followed him, closing the door and taking his arm, turning him around to face
the man. "I'm going to give you that kiss now."

"Are you?" He searched Allan's eyes. "I very much want you to."

"I am." Allan bent forward, lips pressing against his.

He smiled, Allan tasted of coffee and chocolate and cherries. Delicious. A soft sound pressed
against his lips, along with Allan's tongue, asking, not insisting, to be allowed in. It was the easiest
thing ever to open up, let Allan in.

This time the sound was definitely a moan, Allan's hands sliding along his back as his tongue
pressed in deeper. Chad reached up, hands sliding over Allan's shoulders. So strong... Allan's hands
found his ass, tugged him in. Oh. Oh, so... He made a soft happy sound, tongue sliding alongside
Allan's.

Allan's eyes drifted closed, the look on his face pure enjoyment. Their bellies rested together, Allan
hot, solid against him.

Allan's eyes opened slowly as their lips parting. "Mmmm... you have a sweet mouth, Chad."

"Thank you. You're so warm..." He smiled into those blue eyes, a little dazed.

"All the better to seduce you with, my dear."

Chad smiled, leaned closer. "You're doing a fine job."

"Oh, good." Allan's hands slid along to his arms, fingers stroking him.

He shivered, gasped. "Oh." So different that his earlier fumblings.

Allan moaned again. "Oh, Chad. Sexy."

Allan's nose slid against his and then their mouths were together again, Allan's tongue licking its
way in. His cast rested on one of Allan's shoulders, lips opening eagerly, easily. Another moan
filled his mouth, making him vibrate for a moment.

Allan slowly deepened the kiss, making him forget where he was, his name. All he knew was the
wash of slow, lazy pleasure, surrounding him like warm water. Allan's hands moved over him,
stroking along his back and tickling up his sides.

His cock felt full, heavy, and the rasp of his slacks and boxers where he rubbed against Allan's
thigh was luscious. It made him wonder why he hadn't searched this out before. Oh, right. The
music.

Allan's hands ran over the silk of his T-shirt to find his nipples. Allan pinched them through his
shirt. His body rippled, his groan pushing into Allan's lips.

"You are a sexy thing, aren't you?"

"Am I?" He'd been called a lot of things -- talented, brilliant, sensitive. He wasn't sure he'd been
called sexy.

"You are." Allan pulled back a little and took his good hand, dragged it down below the man's
waistband. "Feel what you do for me."

"You're so hard." And big. Bigger than him -- thick and fat and he wanted to explore it.

Allan nodded. "Because of you. I want you, Chad. Should we sit? Lie down? We could keep on
standing here, too."

"This would be easier on the bed."

"That's what I thought, but I didn't want to make you feel like that's where this had to go."

"We're both adults, hmm?"

"We are. And I definitely want to do some adult things with you."

Allan began to walk him slowly toward the bedroom of his little suite, mouth and hands keeping
him occupied as they went. His skin felt awake and alive, his heart pounding in his chest hard
enough that it sounded like a tympani.

When they got to the bedroom they didn't bother with the light. The moonlight poured in, making
stuff shine silvery. Allan sat on the bed and the warm hands tugged his T-shirt up. The shirt caught
on his cast, tugging, and he chuckled, trying to find his way out.

"Damn, that's inconvenient." He could hear the humor in Allan's voice, though, knew it wasn't a
serious kvetch.

"Yeah. It's put a damper on a lot of things."

Allan's hands cupped his face so he could look into the pretty, intense eyes. "We're not going to let
it put a damper on this, I promise."

"Oh..." He leaned forward, brought their lips together.

Allan hummed against his lips and then the man's hot tongue pushed between his, just like before.
Chad ended up straddling Allan's thighs, bellies together as he worked the kiss. Allan somehow got
his T-shirt over his cast, too, because suddenly he was free of it. When Allan's hands started
travelling over him again, it was skin to skin.

That was better. Better than... better.

Whatever.

It was perfect.

He grabbed his shirt and put it between Allan's shoulder and his cast. "This okay?"

"Oh, you're a sweetheart."

Allan gave him a grin and skimmed his own T-shirt off as well, gently moving his hand and then
replacing it. "Now we're even."

"I like even." Chad rolled his hips closer, humming under his breath at the pure pleasure of being
close, being sensual.

Allan slid a hand over his chest, palm sliding back and forth over his right nipple. His nipple
hardened in response, puckering up as tingles slid down his spine.

"Mmm, sensitive." Leaning in, Allan licked at the little nub.

His fingers curled and his hips slid forward. He liked that. He liked that a lot.

"Sweet." Allan's lips closed over his nipple and the man began to suck.

It was like a string was connected, directly from his nipple to his balls, tugging with each pull.
Allan's hands slid to his back, holding him as Allan pressed him back. Their groins pushed
together, rubbed. His cock was beginning to leak, to make his boxers damp. Allan moved over to
his other nipple, licking and sucking at it, too. He arched back further, making Allan groan around
his skin.

"More... More, Allan, please." It was beginning to crescendo inside him, the heat, the pressure, the
pleasure.

Allan didn't reply with words, but he sucked harder, bit a little, not enough to hurt, but more than

enough to sting. His cock jerked in his boxers, the orgasm sudden, surprising. More than a touch
embarrassing.

Groaning, Allan slowly pulled off and licked his way up. "I can smell you."

He could feel his cheeks burning. "I don't usually go off like that."

"From what you said it's been a while since you actually went off with anyone, hmm? I'm taking it
as a compliment."

"Yeah." He groaned, took a quick kiss. "I should mop up and help you out, hmm?"

"Yeah, let's get you cleaned up so we can keep going. We haven't really tested the bed, yet."
Grinning at him, Allan began to work his slacks open. His face was on fire, but before he could get
up, Allan had his zipper undone. "God, I love that smell." Allan's fingers slid right into his boxers,
sliding through the come and rubbing it into his cock.

His eyes went wide and his hips bucked. He hadn't... That was... Oh.

"Remember, I dig in the dirt all day, baby. A little come isn't going to scare me away."

"No? That's good to know." He moved closer, his prick valiantly trying to respond.

Allan's hand wrapped around him, stroking with long, slow pulls. "You're so sensual."

"It's a hazard of the job..." He thought he shouldn't be so selfish, but his hands wouldn't move; it all
felt so good.

"And yet you don't indulge in this very often?" Allen's other hand slid up to play with one nipple
and then the other.

"No. No, this is my first vacation in a very..." Oh, that felt good. So good. Intense. "...very long
time."

"You only have sex when you're on vacation?" Allan's fingers slid back and forth across his slit.

"I only have interest..."

"Then I better make it good for you, hmm?" Allan rolled them suddenly, making sure his casted
arm didn't slam against the bed. Greedy hands tugging his jeans down.

He chuckled, feeling more free, more wild than he could ever remember. "Yours, too?"

"Yeah, naked is good." Allen knelt up on the bed, began shimmying out of his pants.

He reached out with his good hand, wanting to touch the hard, heavy cock as soon as it appeared.

Allan groaned as he touched, hips pushing toward him. His fingers wrapped around, fitting so well.
Fitting perfectly.

"Oh, baby. That's good." Allan smiled and moved over him, body warm and solid.

Chad closed his eyes and started stroking, playing Allan like he was playing his violin, paying
attention to every sound. Allan made sweet noises as Chad stroked: groans and moans and soft
breathy whimpers. Allan's lips moved over his jaw, his neck, the pleasure sudden, the warmth
making his toes curl. His hand never stopped moving.

"Making me sing," Allan whispered into his ear.

"Yes. Yes, that's what I want." That was the very beginning of what he wanted.

Allan smiled and brought their mouths together, kissing him, tongue fucking his lips. That's when
he found his rhythm -- tongue and hand moving together. Allan's hip began to drive, to push the big
cock along his palm.

Yes. Yes, just so. They had a fabulous harmony going.

Chad could see in Allan's eyes that he was close. He pulled Allan's tongue into his mouth, sucked
gently, the tip of his tongue playing with Allan's. A noise pushed into his mouth, Allan suddenly
pushing hard. Heat bloomed over his hand.

Sweet.

He smiled, let the kiss gentle, soften. Allan smiled against his lips, the kiss going pear-shaped, but
that was okay.

"I don't want our evening to end yet."

"It doesn't have to. I don't have anywhere to be."

He reached out, cupped Allan's cheek. "Good. Then I'd love for you to stay."

Allan beamed at him, nuzzled his hand. "It'll be my and your pleasure."

"Yes." Of that he was completely and totally sure.

Snow-Falling
By BA Tortuga

Jody was a little too tired to be doing the happy hour show at the lodge, but there he was anyway,
sitting in front of the roaring fire, playing stairway to heaven.

That was what he got for staying up until three-thirty, smoking a tiny bit of weed and drinking a lot
of beer with the guys. He knew better. Two snowboard lessons at noon and two-thirty, and a gig
were too much for his fried brain.

Of course, the twisted lip look of Mister Carefully Coiffed in the front row didn't help his head
much. In fact, it just made him a little rumbly.

He switched to Jimmy Buffet after the Led Zeppelin, hoping it would get a little more crowd
participation. That always meant better tips. Man, he was ready for the rodeo crowd. He could play
country then, and those folks gave out money for decent music.

That twisted lip went into a curl, and he could swear one eye started twitching.

Jody looked in the opposite direction, where a cougar lady he'd given lessons to was trying to catch
his eye. She was sweet; not really on the prowl, just lonely. And smiling. That helped.

Asshole.

Not only was the guy an asshole; he was weird-looking. One dark-dark eye; one so light it was
creepy.

Fake looking.

He strummed harder, hitting a sour note that had more to do with the righteous rage he was
working up than the loose string he had. So he was no Pavarotti. So what?

That got him a wince.

A full-out, obvious, pained wince.

His fingers shook a little, and he finished with a flourish, smiling through the grim reminder that he
had a headache. "Thanks, you guys. I'm gonna take a little break, but I'll do another seat in a half
hour."

Then he could go crash until the sing-along thing tonight.

He got a smattering of applause, and the crazy-eye guy stood, rolling his shoulders.

Jody turned his back. He would say something awful if he didn't, and the guy was a guest.

A couple of old-money queens came up, talked to Crazy-Eyes a second, then moved on. Crazy-
Eyes headed toward the bar, moving like the bastard had jock itch.

Rolling his shoulders, Jody put his guitar away and gathered up his few tips, smiling at Cougar
Lady again. Then he went and got a beer.

"...hear you, Terry-man. You having fun?" Hank, the barback, sure seemed to know the asshole.

"I was until a few minutes ago."

Jody gritted his teeth, waiting for Hank to get to him. Polite. Calm.

"Yeah?"

"I've got a splitting damn headache, you know?"

"Well, I can help you there. Some water along with your drink will go a long way."

Jody bounced on his toes, trying not to offer to bash the guy in the head to help. Man, no one had
gotten to him this bad in awhile.

"You think? I'll trust you, man. You haven't steered me wrong yet." The voice had a hint of twang
in it, a bit of drawl.

"You bet. You want a beer, Jo?" Hank seemed to have nicknames for everyone.

"Sure. Thanks."

Those creepy-assed eyes met his, for about half a second, then skittered away.

Fucker.

"You a music lover, man?" He just couldn't resist needling the guy a little.

"You could say that, yeah. A bit."

"Oh. Well, I guess I'm pretty hard on the ears, then." Now he was feeling small, and stupid for
asking, to boot.

"You need to replace a string." Those eyes met his again, straight on and surprisingly direct.

"I know." God, that sucked to admit it. "I can't afford it until tomorrow." He grinned a little, trying
for light-hearted.

"Come with me." Just like that. Like he followed orders. Like he was just going to come on. The
guy tottered to the elevator without looking back.

Jody bit his lip, checking his watch. Shit. Okay. He was a pussy. He would go. Jody followed,
grabbing his Coors from Hank.

The guy held the elevator open for him and they headed to the third floor. The guy never said a
word, never fidgeted.

It was kind of unnatural.

"So, uh, you enjoying your stay?"

"I just got here about three hours ago."

The doors opened and they headed down the hall to 304. The guy opened the door. "Come on in."

There were two suitcases and then... damn. Guitar cases. Three of them. What kind of guy traveled
with three guitars?

"Uh. Is this some kind of kink?" It popped out before he even thought, and he clamped his mouth
closed.

"Is it possible to have kink with guitar cases?" One was opened up, a D string pulled out and
handed over. "Here."

"I don't know." Wow. "Thanks. I'm sorry it bothered you so much."

"It's cool. I've been there."

He looked at the guy and somehow that didn't sound like a bullshit thing.

"So what do you do?" He hadn't heard of this guy, or at least he didn't think so, but he seemed like a
biggie musician type.

"Studio work. Lots of it. Mostly country bands, right now, but I did some work with Townsend last
week." It didn't even sound like bragging.

Jesus. No wonder the guy had grimaced all the way through his set. "Well, uh. Thanks for the
string. If you want a snowboard lesson in return, I can do that."

"I don't think that's possible, but thank you."

"Oh." Well, shit. Was there... Had he fucked up again? "If you change your mind, I'm on the
official schedule. Jody Marcus."

One hand was held out. "Terry Morton. Maybe I'll try again. The last time I tried was... disastrous."

The leg thing. The guy was tottery. "Do you have leg issues?"

He got this quick, wicked-as-fuck grin that sort of rocked him back on his heels a little. "You might
say that."

The jeans' legs were pulled up, two metal sticks poking out of the tennis shoes. Dude.

"Wow." He managed not to embarrass himself with a long, drawn-out dude. "Have you ever tried
seated skiing?"

"Nope. This is my first snow-related vacation. I'm an Austin native. Not much snow that direction."
Terry looked at his watch, smiled. "You have at least one lady down there waiting for you to sing,
man."

"Wait, I thought you said you'd tried it and it had gone bad?" Dude. He wasn't that hung over.

"Yeah, on the water, you know?"

"Right! Well, you might find downhill easier." Somehow or another, he'd gone from thinking Terry
Morton an asshole, and more of an okay guy.

Terry nodded, then winked. "We'll see. I might just spend the next three weeks sleeping and teasing
Hank downstairs for talking me into coming up."

"Are you buddies?" Jody really didn't know much about Hank, on a personal level. Huh. That was a
weird thought, getting to know someone besides the snow bunnies.

"His older brother, Mike, is a good friend of mine. Owns a bar down in the warehouse district.
Hank was down for South by Southwest and we got to talking about where he worked."

"Neat! Well, welcome to Blue Sky Lodge. I need to head back down, get this string on." He really
did have another set to play.

"Thanks. Good set."

"Yeah." Yeah, like there was such a thing for a guy like him with a professional musician around.
"Hey, if you want to have a beer or whatever, just ask the front desk to buzz me."

"Well, you know where I am, too, huh? You can just follow the noise of the unhappy next door
neighbors."

"I can do that." He finally found a smile.

Yeah. Maybe not such an asshole after all. And Jody's hangover? Pretty much gone.

***

Two days into his three week snow vacation and Terry thought he was going to go crazy.

He couldn't play all night, he couldn't drink all the time and, to be honest, the idea of skiing made
him more than a little nervous.

In fact, he was going to have to go with scared.

Maybe sledding was more his speed, something he could go without legs.

He made his way to a chair by the window, eased himself down, eyes on the moving shapes
outside.

"Dude! You don't write, you don't call."

The kid from the main bar that first night bounced over, looking bright eyed and bushy tailed. What
was his name? Jo-something.

"Did that string work out for you, man?" He grinned over, nodded. The kid was passable and,
please God, had an in-tune guitar now.

"Yeah. Much better." Jody. That was it. The kid had almost white-blond hair, green eyes, and the
darkest tan Terry had ever seen on a winter face, and that was saying something from a Texan.

"Cool." Dude, he was an old perv, looking at this kid like he was lunch. "How's the weather out
there?"

"It's gorgeous. It's almost fifty degrees, but the ground is still cold enough to hold the snow." Jody
bounced. "You should come out."

"Yeah? You got snowbunnies to teach?" Yeah, old. Like a zillion and a half and he thought Austin
was getting younger everyday.

"Not today." The kid glanced around and whispered. "It's my day off. Don't tell them, or they'll try
to rope me into working."

The kid was far cuter without the bloodshot eyes and sluggish demeanor of the recently sobered up.

That tickled the shit out of him. "You got it, man. Your secret's safe with me."

"Cool. You got a coat and shit? We can ride the lift up and you can see the valley, take the little
tram down."

"Sure, give me a couple and I'll be back down." Old, pervy, but bored to death.

"No problem."

Sure enough, the kid was waiting for him when he came back down, all bundled up.

He had his arm crutches with him, just in case. At the kid's look, he shrugged. "It's way easier to
catch myself if I slip than haul myself off the ground."

"Sure. You have good traction on the shoes?" Jody waved at his boots. "If you feel at all unsteady,
you just tell me, okay?"

"Sure." He nodded, heading out the door like he wasn't worried about falling and busting his ass.
He kept reminding himself that, if he did, it wouldn't be the first time.

Or the last time.

Just another time.

Jody was good company, though, putting him at ease, which he hadn't expected. The kid must have
been having a serious off day when they met.

"So, where are you from, originally?" He figured this place had to be like Austin -- mostly people
from somewhere else.

"Oregon." Jody shrugged. "I came. I stayed. I go to Utah in the summer, though."

"What's in Utah, besides Mormons?" he teased.

"Rafting. I mean, you can raft here, but I get more money down there, and I can lead hikes and shit,
too." They headed across toward the ski lift access, Jody flashing a pass at the attendant. The
weather was nice. Sunny, almost too warm but not quite for the coat.

"That sounds fun as hell. I toured like hell last summer, filling in for a guy that had cancer."
Usually his winters were slammed, his summers slow.

"You'd like rafting, I bet." Jody glanced at his legs, almost like he didn't know he was doing it. "It's
a rush."

He thought about it. He loved swimming and had enough upper body strength for five guys. "It
looks like fun."

"Well, then, think about it." There were not as many people as he would have expected tricked out
with skis and such. Jody saw his look and grinned. "It's too hot. People want to like, barbecue and
shit."

"Hot." He blinked, head tilting. "Okay, then."

Hot.

Right.

He could explain about heat.

"Hey, man, I get it. Utah in July? A hundred and sixteen in the shade." The platform loomed ahead,
but the chairs moved slowly enough that he thought he could do it.

"Yeah. Austin can be brutal in September." He tried not to tense up, focusing on one step at a time
up to the platform.

"You good?" Luckily, the kid didn't grab his arm or push him or anything. Just stood by, ready to
help him out. Of course, Jody taught skiing. He was used to people falling.

"I think so, yeah." He winked. "So long as my legs don't fall off."

The chairs were moving, slow and steady, and Terry stood there on his legs and watched and did
his damnedest to pretend he wasn't scared.

It was all a fucking lie, of course. He was fucking terrified.

Still, he'd been more scared of worse, right?

Fucking right.

"Okay. So, here we go." Jody sounded disgustingly cheerful. Not one bit aware of how Terry was
feeling. Damn him.

"Okay." He moved his crutches into one hand, forcing himself not to pray out loud that he didn't...
Whoosh. The lip of the chair hit the back of his thigh and he sat back, his full-leg prosthesis rattling
on the metal a little.

"You got it, man?" One hand, warm and gloveless, landed on his belly, the palm and fingers flat to
hold him back against the seat.

His coat was too damned thin if he could feel that hand so well.

"Trying." He looked over at Jody, knowing that his eyes were a little wild. "That's a little unnerving
and I don't know how I'm getting off."

"Oh, I'll have your back. Hey, should I hold your crutches? I can get them with one hand, get you
with the other. Then it'll be me who goes down if anyone does."

"If you don't mind. It'll probably be fine."

Probably.

Most likely.

Sort of.

"Sure. Wow, look at that." Jody pointed, making him look. They were starting to really rise, and
there was a big bird of prey maybe thirty feet from them, soaring.

"Oh, damn." For a second, he completely forgot to be wigged out and went with fascinated. The
bird was huge, wingspan vast.

"Yeah. He's having a ball." Jody laughed, and one leg kicked, but then the kid gave him a sideways
glance and settled, holding still.

"I'm not scared of heights, man. Just getting on and off this thing."

"Oh, good." Jody chuckled. "I've been on gondolas with folks who were terrified. I always forget."

He grinned over. Anything was better than getting stuck inside.

Anything.

Well, mostly.

"So, you all relaxed now?"

"Yeah." He winked over. "You going to push me out of the chair, now?"

"No!" Jody's mouth dropped open for a moment. "Oh, man. No, I meant there. At the lodge. All
vacation-y."

Terry let himself have a laugh. "I guess? I mean, there's only so much beer and sleeping any man
can take.

"Yeah. You seem like you like to keep busy." Jody tapped out a beat on one thigh with his free
hand.

"I do. I love to play." Hell, maybe he ought to just go home early, find some work.

"Yeah? The string you gave me is really helpful." Those pretty eyes just twinkled for him.

"You could come by anytime, jam with me." It was weird, vacationing where there weren't other
musicians.

"I could? That would rock." Jody peered down. "Okay, we're approaching bunny slope. You all
set?"

"I'm as ready as I'm gonna be." He was less tense. A little. "Don't let me crash and burn, huh?"

"Not a chance. I'm way better at this than I am music."

Christ, he hoped so.

He tried not to tense up as the ground got closer. "What do I do? Do I need to lift my legs up?"

"Just pull them up a little, like that. Yeah." His crutches disappeared, Jody grabbing them. Then
Jody was grabbing his arm, and they were bumping off like newborn foals, staggering a little when
the lift gave them its little push.

Jody had him, though. He never once hit the ground.

His heart was pounding fiercely, and he felt like hooting. Okay. Okay, he'd done it.

"Woo!" Jody pulled him off to one side, letting people get past them. "Now we just take the little
cut off over here..."

There was a fairly easy looking trail that led down to the tram station, and it was clear of snow and
ice. He could do that. Darned if he wasn't feeling the warmth, now, too. The sun was bright as
could be.

"Damn, it's pretty up here." He lifted his face to the sun, soaking it in.

"It is, huh? Oh! Have you ever gone snowmobiling? I bet that would be way easier with your legs."
Jody was so enthusiastic.

"No, I can drive a bike, though, with some help."

"Yeah, but you can ride on a snowmobile, while a guide drives. Or! There's this place that does dog
sled rides. You like, sit in these great blankets and let the dogs work."

Terry chuckled, caught up in Jody's enthusiasm. "Now, that sounds fun. Not as fun as rafting, mind
you, but fun."

"Yeah. I would so set it up." He got a sideways look, full of mischief. "If you get bored or
whatever."

"You have no idea, man. I almost volunteered to wash dishes last night just so I didn't have to go
back to my room."

"Well. Uh. I would hang with you. If I'm not having to fill in." Those cheeks went red all of a
sudden, but he wasn't sure it was from the cold.

"Man, like an old man like me could keep a young buck interested."

Dude.

DUDE.

Did he just say young buck?

Jody blinked, then guffawed like a braying donkey. "Old man? Jesus. You're hot, man. Like snow-
melting. I mean, I thought you were a prick to begin with, but that's worn off."

"Me?" Him? Hot?

Damn.

Okay, he could get behind that.

"Yeah. You." Now those tanned cheeks were blazing red. "And here we are at the tram. Come on,
I'll buy the hot chocolate."

"Sounds good." He followed along behind, eyes on Jody's ass.

It was nice, if a little too padded by clothes. It moved well, though, swinging side to side.

Terry could appreciate it and... wait. "Now, how could I be a prick when I gave you a guitar
string?"

"Oh, no. I mean before that. When you were making the faces." They stopped, Jody helping him up
the steps to the tram. He was surprisingly tired when he sat down.

"Thanks." Yeah, he was sort of... obvious about bad tuning. It made his head want to explode like
an overripe watermelon.

"I know better now." Warm. Jody was warm next to him, which thank God, because in the shade it
was suddenly too cool.

"Yeah? Good. I don't mean to be a jerk. It's a natural thing."

"It's cool." Jody leaned in, breath fanning his cheek. "It's kinda hot."

"Yeah?" He turned his head, met Jody's eyes, dead on. "You makin' a pass at me, stud?"

Say yes. Please, say yes.

"I am. Is that okay?" Jody's lips almost brushed his. "I mean, you're a guest."

"More than okay." Hook up, love affair, hot monkey sex -- he was up for it and easy.

"Oh, good." He thought for a long moment that Jody might kiss him. Then the kid pulled away,
looking over Terry's shoulder.

He didn't look behind him. He didn't have anything to be guilty about, any reason to look, right?
Right.

"You ready to go on down, Jody?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Tom."

Ah. Well, at least Jody could show some restraint. Was that good or bad?

"You free this evening, man?" Would you like to come to my room, jam a little, fuck like bunnies,
then play some more?

"I think I am. I'll have to check the schedule when we get back..." Jody's hand came around
between them, settling on his hip. Smart guy, not going for his leg.

It was different -- Jody hadn't asked what he'd done, hadn't asked how he lost his legs, hadn't
pretended not to notice either.

It made the whole thing that much hotter. Some guys had a thing. That made Terry wicked
uncomfortable.

"Well, if you are..." He let himself lean toward the touch.

"Then I am definitely in. There. Uh..." Jody laughed, the sound merry as anything. "You know
what I mean."

He snorted, then they both started laughing, hard. "Yeah. Yeah, I figure I do, man."

"I can even bring beer." Jody's hand stayed on him, fingers moving gently.

"Good deal. I have the guitars and the space." Damn, that hand felt fucking amazing.

"It's a date." That single word was loaded with all sorts of things.

He nodded, feeling lighter than he had all day. After all, he'd swallowed the frog with the whole
getting on the chair lift thing; God knew, even if it sucked with Jody, the worst part of his damn
day was over.

***

Jody was a little worried about his "date". The whole day had gone really good, and he'd only had
to break for one lesson and now it was time to go see Terry again. He wasn't worried about that.
Him and Terry, they were easy together.

No, he was worried about the food. They were going to the nice restaurant there at the lodge
because Terry had some kind of voucher, and damn. That damn place had more forks on one
setting then most dining rooms had in the whole damn place.

He just... He was worried as hell. What if he shot an oyster across the room?

Terry chuckled, somehow appeared behind him. "It's not supposed to cause stress, you know?
Eating."

"Huh? Oh. Sorry. I mean, I just never eat here, you know?" He knew most of the waiters...

"Yeah. I know." At his look, Terry grinned, the look crooked and purely adorable. "What? I'm a
picker. I eat pizza and burgers."

"So we're doing this because it's free?" He could get behind them being in the same boat.

"You know it. There's got to be a steak option, honey."

"You think?" Now he relaxed enough to grin. "I bet they have good booze."

"Well, there you go." Terry knocked their shoulders together. "Shit, man. If they got more
comfortable seats than the fucking barstools, I'm there. My goddamn leg fell off."

"They have cushy booths and shit." He was more relaxed than he had been since Terry had called
and asked if he wanted to go to supper before their jam session. Beer and guitars he got. Fancy
food, well, he'd just have to try.

"Cool." Terry rocked on his legs a little, grinned. "Come on. Steaks. Pommes frites. Yummy shit."

"Can I have dessert?" He'd bet they had Crème Brule.

"Fuck, yeah. Then we'll go play." That sounded way dirtier than it was supposed to be, he'd bet.

"Cool. I told you, I love to jam." He liked this guy a lot. Like a lot. Hell, he'd almost kissed him on
the slopes.

Those weird eyes twinkled at him. "Me, too."

He'd bet.

The host guy took them to their table, and Jody was happy that he didn't know the guy. The water
guy was Dan, who drunk dialed the slopes a lot.

"Man, it's swank in here." Terry looked at the booth, lips twisting. "Give me your arm, man."

He helped Terry ease down, then the man scooted in.

"You good?" He sure hoped so. He'd be a wreck without his legs. Terry was like, and inspiration.

"I'm settled, yeah. Thanks for the hand."

"No prob."

"Hey, Jody. Hello, sir. Can I get you a drink?" The main waiter was C something. Chris?

"I think I want a beer -- something local and not too light, huh?"

"You bet. We have a couple of great local microbrews. Jody?"

"Fat Tire, man." He loved that damned beer more than was reasonable.

"Rock on." Chris winked at him, nodded.

Jody laughed, waiting for Chris to move on. Then he touched Terry's hip. At least a booth let them
sit close. "Well, maybe it's not so swanky that I can't eat."

Terry chuckled, leaned back in the booth, and started looking at the menu. "Duck. Shrimp. Lobster.
Man, I'm not eating shrimp two thousand miles from an ocean."

"No shit! I mean, that's crazy." He always had thought that. "Ah. Steak. New York strip or filet?"

"Strip for me."

Whoa, that sounded way hotter than it was supposed to, he bet. He still had the urge to throw his
clothes off. Like for real. "Me, too." His voice only squeaked a little.

Terry looked at him -- like looked hard, like the guy was imagining things. Damn. "Cool."

Damn. His whole body was sorta acting like Terry was playing him. Like a guitar, not like in I've
been played. One of Terry's hands snuck over, slid on his thigh. He wasn't gonna jump. Nope.
Blush, yes. His cock rose so fast it left him breathless. Just from a touch.

"This okay?" The question was quiet, almost whispered.

"Yes. Yes, it's more than okay." Jody remembered that he had fingers, too, and he stroked Terry
right above his waistband.

The man had a tight, pretty belly, and the muscles jerked for his fingers.

"We could get dessert to go." He whispered, too.

"Shit, honey. We could get dinner to go."

His heart kicked into overdrive. "Shit, yes. We can order it and have it sent to your room, even."
That much he did know.

"Then why are we sitting in here?"

"Because we haven't ordered yet?" He waved Chris down. "Man, can we have a strip and a filet
delivered to room... uh."

Terry chuckled, handed over the voucher deals with the room number printed on. "Here. We need
cheesecake, too."

"Oh. Good one." Cheesecake seemed like a decadent thing. They answered all the questions about
salads and sides and shit. Then they hasta-ed.

Terry was moving just a little slow, on the way to the elevator, just a little stiff.

"The cold today get to you? We could get in the tub, or I could give you a rub down."

"Just a long day on the legs." He got a quick look. "You think you can handle seeing them without
the prostheses?"

"Sure." He hoped. It wasn't like he'd even thought on it.

Terry chuckled. "If you can't, it's not a deal breaker. I have a pair of sweat pants I wear to relax."

That made him wonder how many guys couldn't handle it, that Terry had an answer. "Well, I've
been thinking you're damned hot, and it don't have much to do with your legs."

That got him a warm, genuine smile.

They got to Terry's room, and it occurred to him that Terry might think he was a terrible kisser, or
that he smelled funny. It might not even come down to the legs. Then Terry grinned at him, drew
him into a long, slow kiss that threatened to burn him down to the ground, and suddenly the legs
didn't matter, not one bit.

All that mattered was that Terry kissed him again.

***

"Damn..." That was more than a little mind-blowing. "You've got a pretty mouth." Terry winked,
tickled at his own joke.

"Thanks. I was worried it would suck or something, and that would be awkward. It didn't."

"Good." Terry reached out, wrapped his hand around Jody's waist. He'd wait to see how awkward
the situation was after Jody remembered his legs.

Jody moved against him easily, almost like they were dancing. Oh, not enough to put him off
balance, but enough that he heard a song in his head.

He hummed, grinning as Jody hummed back, answering him.

"I must be better at this than I am at singing, huh?"

"Hey, now." That was no lie, but he wasn't going to blow the mood.

Jody chuckled, kissing his lower lip. "I like to be good at something, man. Snowboarding. Kissing."

"What else are you good at, honey?"

"Mmm. I have good hands." Jody started on his shirt, and those fingers were pretty nimble.

He chuckled and let Jody do his thing, watching his skin appear as Jody opened his buttons. "You
do, at that."

"Uh-huh. We can't all be guitar gods." Those lips found his throat, sliding down to his collarbone.

That made him chuckle. "Guitar gods. Oh. Oh, there." That was a good spot.

"Mmm. You taste good. A little salty."

His shirt hit the floor, and Jody grinned. "You wanna sit?"

"Yeah. Yeah, you make my knees weak." He winked.

Jody blinked, then laughed. "Go me. Come on, man." Jody got him down on the bed, got his pants
undone.

Terry looked at Jody, making sure they made eye contact. "You do realize, before the pants come
off, that I have stumps, right?"

Might as well bring it up now.

"I know. You said before. And I saw you up at the slopes, huh?" Jody stroked his thigh. "It's okay."

"Okay. It's just..." Terry shrugged, winked. "It's damned awkward when a lover freaks out about
them."

"I bet. I mean, you're all getting busy and shit and someone goes wiggy." Jody winked back, loving
on him some more.

"You got it." He worked Jody's jeans open, too, fingers searching for that sweet, heavy cock.

"Someone ought to be able to get the door." Jody was letting him get in those pants, though,
pushing into his hand.

"Huh? Oh. Room service. Right. Leave mine on." Fuck, the man smelled good.

"Okay." Jody moved closer, one knee on the bed next to his thigh.

He pushed down Jody's jeans, fingers wrapping around that fine prick. He knew his calluses felt
good. He felt them himself, all the time.

"Oh." Those pretty eyes rolled, Jody humping his hand. "Oh, God. That... Terry."

"Uh-huh." He let his thumb rub over the fat, mushroom head, press the slit a little.

"Oh, fuck." Jody reminded him of what it was like to be that damned young, jerking and rubbing.

"I got you, honey." His free hand landed on Jody's ass, keeping that sweet body moving.

"I know. I know. I just... I need to touch you, too." Jody struggled a little, but just fucked his hand
like a dream.

"Mmmhmm. Look at you." He groaned, licked his lips and, if he had toes, they'd curl.

"I. I'm shaking apart here." Jody was braced on one leg, spread out half-above him, and oh, that
was pretty.

"You can take the edge off, honey. We got time for a round two."

"Oh. Oh, okay." That got Jody moving even faster, got him a wet tip every time Jody pulled back.

So fucking hot. God, he could just eat this sweet son of a bitch up. His thumb dug into the head a
little, pushing at Jody's slit again, and Jody went off like a bottle rocket. Boom. Terry fucking loved
that smell -- all salty and rich and male. He let his grip gentle, hand moving nice and easy over
Jody's skin.

"Nice. Oh, man. Damn." Leaning on him a little, Jody caught his breath.

"Yeah. Yeah, honey. Damn." His cock was full, aching, and he tried not to rub against Jody too
hard.

Jody fumbled a little, but got a good grip on Terry's cock, pulling nice and hard. "Oh, man, you're
fat down here. I like it."

He opened his mouth to say thank you, but what came out was, "uhnguh..."

Jody laughed right out loud and slid off the bed. He thought maybe the kid was leaving, or maybe
melting, but then he felt that hot, wet mouth on the head of his prick.

"Oh. Oh, fuck..." Terry wriggled, his hands sliding on the bedspread. "Oh, fuck yes."

Please.

"Mmmhmm." Jody went down like it was the man's favorite thing to do, lips sliding along his shaft.

Jody's hands landed on his prostheses, but to the man's credit, there wasn't the slightest hesitation.
Not that Terry would have minded. Jody was working his cock like a pro. Up, down, that mouth
moved on him, Jody licking the underside of his cock like it was the most amazing thing. Jesus. He
leaned back on his elbows, giving himself the leverage to push up, take Jody's mouth.

The kid had his eyes closed, lips sealed tight around Terry's prick, and his head was bobbing up and
down. No one had touched him like this in ages, not with such enthusiasm.

"Gonna." He swallowed convulsively, his arms shaking with the effort to keep him upright.

"Mmm." Jody made the best noises. They vibrated around his skin. Those fingers moved on his
belly, then slid down to find his balls.

He bucked up, eyes rolling as his balls drew up tight. "Jody...Damn."

Terry grunted, bit his bottom lip and came hard, just fucking Jody's lips as he did.

So good.

So fucking good.

Jody licked his lips and sat back, smiling a little. "That was a nice challenge, man, Stretchy."

Before he could laugh or answer or whatever, there was a knock on the door.

"Dude." He blinked, swayed a little. "I better get that." If he could make his legs work.

"I got it." Jody bounced up, hitching up his jeans and going to get their food.

Terry grabbed the little half-blanket at the end of the bed and covered up, hands still shaking a little
bit.

Damn.

"Thanks, man." He thought Jody gave the waiter a tip, which was good of him, as he seemed to
know the guy. Then Jody was back, wheeling the little tray over. "Protein. To replace what we
lost."

"Uh-huh. Refuel for the next set." He reached for Jody, dragged him close. "Kiss me."

"Okay." He caught a flash of a happy smile before Jody kissed him like there was no tomorrow.

Oh, damn. He could get addicted to that, to the taste of him on those smiling lips.

He could get addicted to a lot of things around here.

As long as Jody didn't play that out of tune guitar anymore.

King in his Sights
By Chris Owen

Ridge walked into the lobby of the Lodge and looked around, wondering if he could guess his
client in under a minute. It was a game he played with himself occasionally, and he was pretty good
at it. The staff at the Lodge had learned really quickly to brief the guests as to Ridge's rules for
going to the back country, and he didn't have to make too many people go back to their rooms to
dress properly any more.

The first year had been trying.

It might have pissed off a few people but there wasn't any power on earth that would have him
taking some pretty city boy out into the wilderness unless they were both geared up and dressed
right. He didn't give one shit how fashionable the clients looked -- if they were going to be too cold,
too hot or too hungry, they weren't going with him. Period.

This time, though, Ridge spotted his client right off. At least, he hoped it was his client; if there was
anyone who looked like he was ready to go hiking for a day it was that hottie. Standing at the end
of the desk, looking through a worn notebook, his face was lined and creased by outdoor living and
hard work. Ridge headed toward him, catching a nod from the clerk behind the desk. Yep, his for
the day.

Nice.

Ridge loved it when he didn't have to spend half the hike teaching someone how to move without
getting bogged down, and this guy looked like he was fit enough to do it and already knew what to
do. If he didn't, Ridge hoped that he'd at least listen to instructions. Some folks didn't take kindly to
being told what to do.

"Excuse me," Ridge said as he got close. "Are you Mr. Jones?"

Bright eyes met his, flashing and darting around fast, taking in Ridge and everything about him just
as quick as anything. "Jones." He nodded, but seemed to have to think about it before committing
himself to the name. "Right, Jones."

Ridge's own eyes went wide, but he stopped himself from blurting out anything stupid. It was the
eyes that nailed it. Mr. Jones was Davey Teller, a bigwig executive from Chicago or some such. He
was on the news just about every night, but for the life of him, Ridge couldn't remember what the
man did, exactly. CFO of something? CEO? Hell, maybe he was a politician and that had slipped
right past Ridge's bullshit reader, leaving only the impression of "nice eyes".

"I'm Ridge. I'm one of the backcountry guides here at the Lodge." He held out his hand.

"Davey." Davey's lips quirked. "Right. Davey Jones. Sometimes my assistant has a sense of humor.
I might have to do something about that."

Ridge grinned. This guy might be all right, despite being disgustingly rich and powerful. Those
were often the hardest clients. "Why bother with the name change at all?" he asked curiously. "It
doesn't really work if you don't use the fake name, you know."

"Security." Davey rolled his eyes and pointed to one of the lobby's couches. "That's Jax. He's my
bodyguard, but he likes to be called my security specialist. He set things up for me -- along with my
assistant, apparently. They seem to think that my name is too well known for taking a hike."

Ridge looked over at the couch and gave the bodyguard a nod. He got a glowering look in return.
Jax was big and beefy, all broad shoulders and strong legs. His dark hair and eyes made him look a
little menacing when he scowled. "He seems a little cranky."

Davey smiled beatifically. "He's pissed beyond all belief that he can't come with us."

"He can't?" Ridge had to admit he was pleased. The bodyguard looked fit enough, and was even
dressed appropriately, but where Davey seemed to be friendly and cheerful, Jax was a bundle of
bad mood.

"Nope. He pulled a muscle last night on the slopes. He tried to tell me I couldn't go today, but since
I pay the bills I have veto. It's good to be king."

"I bet it is." Ridge knew that it was nice to be his own boss, but "king" was a little far above him.
"Is he going to ride with us out to the hot springs?"

"Yes. He'll wait there for us to come back." Davey nodded and picked up his pack. "Are we ready?"

Ridge held up a hand. "Two minutes. You're the client and apparently the king -- I get that. But
your safety is in my hands so before we go I need to check some stuff out."

Jax might have heard that, or maybe he didn't like the way Ridge had put his hand up. In either
case, he was on the way to them, limping visibly on his right leg. "Problem?"

Davey sighed. "No. God, you need to learn to relax."

Jax's mouth pressed into a thin line but he didn't say anything.

"I'm just asking the questions I need to ask," Ridge told the bodyguard. "I'm the guide."

Jax nodded, once. "James Kyle Buchanan. You live four miles from here, work seasonally as a
guide, the rest of the year as a consultant. Thirty-six years old, never married, born and raised in
North Dakota."

Ridge stared at him and Davey rolled his eyes and groaned. "See? Security. I can't even take a walk
in the woods."

Jax smiled. It wasn't terribly friendly.

"Right," Ridge said slowly. "Call me Ridge. And now that you've done your job, let me do mine."

"Sorry," Davey said, giving Jax a filthy look. "He's very good at his job, though." His eyes rolled
again as he admitted the obvious.

Ridge nodded. He wasn't sure how much of Davey's protests were for show, or how much of Jax's
work was under direct orders, but he really didn't care. "I bet he is. Anyway, as I was saying. You
look like you know what you're doing, but I've been at this for enough years that I've learned to ask
anyway. What fabrics are you wearing?"

Davey, thank God, didn't balk and even Jax kept quiet. "Silk next to my skin, layers of wool and
fleece. Wool socks, down filled vest. My mitts have wool liners, and my hat is wool, too."

"Fantastic. No cotton?"

"Hell, no. And I've been convinced to give up micro-fibers, too, though I'm still not sure that I
won't go back."

Ridge grinned. "What's in your pack?"

"Extra wool socks, water, energy bars, thermal blanket, one flare, a very small first aid kit, a length
of rope. Don't fall down too far, the rope isn't that long." Davey's smile could just light up the
whole Lodge.

Ridge smiled right back at him. "Shit, you don't need me at all."

Jax opened his mouth and closed it again.

Ridge ignored Jax and picked up his own pack to dig in one of the pockets. "Towel? Swimming
trunks? The hot springs are really nice, and there's a great set up there for changing -- you can even
buy snacks and stuff."

Davey nodded again. "Yep. I read the brochure." He smiled at Ridge and looked down at the floor,
then up at him through his eyelashes.

It took Ridge a long moment to gather his brain cells up to get things back on track. He was used to
clients flirting with him, but Davey was in a league all his own. "Um." Ridge tried really, really
hard to ignore Jax's increased glowering. "Do you have a GPS enabled cell phone?"

"Nope."

"Seriously?" Ridge looked at Davey, surprised.

"I'm on vacation. No cell at all. They'd find me."

"Oh. Okay." Ridge nodded and took out a transponder. "This is a locator beacon," he said, hooking
it onto Davey's vest. "I have one, too, see? They'll monitor us from here, and I have a radio. I've got
a GPS unit with me, too, if you want to play with the tech, but I know where we're going."

Jax seemed to relax minutely.

"Cool." Davey nodded and put his pack on. "We're ready now?"

"Yep." Ridge slung his own pack over his shoulder and looked at Jax. "We're going to be using the
hot springs as our home base. You're coming with us that far?"

Jax nodded and held up a small messenger bag. "Novel, food, work. What's your ETA back to the
hot springs?"

Ridge looked at Davey. "The walk out is about two hours. It's a bit longer coming back, and we'll
eat lunch out there. I won't keep you out into dusk; we'll have to be back at the springs by four-
thirty or five at the absolute latest. If you get cold, sooner."

"Should be just fine." Davey looked at Jax and tilted his head. "The hot springs might be good for
your leg. I want you to soak for a bit, see if it helps."

"We've got staff that can help you with that, too," Ridge told him. "I can get you in after hours, if
you're still sore later on."

Davey beamed at him and Ridge got a nice warm feeling in his belly.

They drove to the hot springs in Ridge's Jeep, and parked up close to the building that housed
showers, changing rooms and a small cafe. "There's other places with hot springs that aren't
commercial, but they're mostly on private land," Ridge told them. "This one's public and a good
place to set out from. You'll be okay here, Jax?"

"Sure." Jax gave him a surly look. "I'm pretty sure I can handle relaxing for a day without too much
trouble."

Ridge doubted that. Jax didn't seem like the relaxing type. He opened up the back of the Jeep and
looked at Davey, blocking Jax out completely. "Snow shoes or cross country skis? We'll be
breaking trail."

"Snow shoes." Davey looked down at his feet. "I didn't bring ski boots, and I hate skis that aren't
custom fit. Rentals are usually crap, and I don't want to mess with wax."

Ridge nodded. "Good enough. We can take off right away, then." He pulled out a few pairs of snow
shoes and let Davey take his pick. He had several styles, from lightweight wooden ones that he'd
had for years to top of the line aluminum frames with neoprene, and he was pleased that Davey
knew his own stance well enough to pick a pair that would be comfortable.

Leaving Jax to soak in the hot springs, Ridge made sure that he and Davey both had their packs
settled properly and led the way onto the short groomed trail that they'd branch off from. "We can
put them on up here," he said, pointing the way. "There's a bench up this way, then we can head
off-trail."

Davey nodded and kept up with him without any trouble. "How often do you do this? Every day?"

Ridge laughed and shook his head. "Nah. That'd be too much even for me. I go out about every
second day, sometimes with clients, sometimes just to make sure the snow's safe. The groomed
trails aren't my domain at all, but I need to keep on the trails I do use for people such as yourself."

"The ones who go off the beaten track." Davey grinned at him.

"Yeah, that." They sat down and strapped the snowshoes on, and Ridge checked Davey's bindings.
"You've done this before."

"Not in years, but yes." Davey nodded and got to his feet. "I haven't taken a lot of time for myself
recently."

They started walking, Ridge leading the way but not getting too far ahead. "You do seem to be a
little busy," he said over his shoulder. "See you all the time on TV."

Davey rolled his eyes. "Thus Jax. My profile's gotten pretty high."

"Do you actually need him?"

Davey nodded. "Either him or someone like him, yeah. Sucks."

Ridge imagined it did, at that. He couldn't have coped with it. He liked his life just the way it was --
he lived alone aside from his dogs, he did what he wanted, he got to work outside and pretty much
for himself. He liked people, he just didn't want them surrounding him all the damn time.

They walked for almost an hour, making small talk about the scenery or not talking at all. Davey
drank from his water bottle, ate a protein bar on the go, and didn't have any trouble keeping up, so
Ridge picked up the pace a bit. Davey just smirked and kept right up with him, not even breaking a
sweat.

"Tell me," Ridge said as they made their way cautiously up and around a boulder to get into the lee
of an outcrop, "how does a guy like you with the desk job and all that manage to stay in shape and
earn that skin tone?"

Davey laughed and accepted a hand up to the next flat section of their new trail. "You know how
people say they need eight hours of sleep a night? I don't. I thrive on about five, but I function just
fine on four and a half hours a night for weeks and weeks at a time."

Ridge raised an eyebrow. "Seriously?"

"Yeah." Davey nodded as they kept moving. "One of my guys needs, like, eleven hours a night to
be on top of his game. Me, I'm happy I need less -- I get to do so much. It's amazing how much
more you can get done when you get up at four in the morning. I can work out, eat, shower, get to
the office and have all my morning scheduling down and e-mails replied to before half my staff
shows up. Then I work all day, have a supper meeting and still have time to play sports for a couple
of hours before heading home to watch TV or read. Go to bed around eleven and do it all over
again."

Ridge nodded, impressed. "Man, that's cool. I need more sleep than that -- I'm just glad I can work
outside most of the year. I'd go nuts if I had to be in an office and didn't have time to live, too."

Davey drank from his water bottle again and winked at him. "It helps that I don't have to do
anything like pick up my cleaning, do the grocery shopping or sweep the kitchen. Being king is
good."

Laughing, Ridge had to agree with that, too. "You're pretty down to earth, for all that you're king,
you know."

"It doesn't pay to be a bastard to someone who hasn't done anything to deserve it. I'm not trying to
get anything from you, either. I can be a prick in the boardroom, trust me."

Ridge snorted and said absolutely nothing.

Davey, thankfully, saved him from his silence. "No, what I want from you is better obtained by
being as nice as I can be."

"What would that be?" Ridge asked with a wide smile. "A safe hike? Not getting lost?"

"Sure." Davey's smile was just as wide. "For starters. That would be really appreciated."

Ridge looked Davey up and down and slowed his pace. "I like my job. All of it. The walking, the
clients, the being outside. I like working for the Blue Sky Lodge. I like being out here under the big
sky, with no one around."

"I have no intention of taking you away from any of that." Davey looked amused and leaned
against the rock outcrop. "Is there a rest point coming up? Somewhere to sit?"

"Yep." Ridge looked around them, nodding. "About ten minutes or so at our speed. You're faster
than most."

"In many, many ways." Davey started walking again, following where Ridge pointed. "Can I
interest you in a blow job when we get there?"

Ridge thought maybe he should be more surprised than he was. "Do you get turned down often?"
he asked curiously.

"Not very, but it's been known to happen." Davey laughed and shrugged his shoulders. "I'm a very
busy man and I'm very driven. It's pretty much impossible to have a real relationship with me, but I
enjoy sex. So, there you go. If you want, I'd like to suck you off. If not, we can hike and I can see
what I can find in the hotel bar, later." Davey's sunny grin grew darker, more intense. "You're pick
number one, though. I like you."

"You're not one for subtle, either." Ridge was tickled. He liked that Davey was so upfront and right
out there about what he wanted and what he was offering. "I'm a fan of outdoor sex."

"Of course you are." Davey was walking as close to him as he could get, given the snowshoes.
"That's why I didn't suggest we meet up tonight."

"We could do that, too."

Davey reached out and patted Ridge's butt. "I do like you."

Ridge walked faster, striding to get to the little clearing and its rough wooden bench. He suddenly
had a need. "I like blow jobs, too."

"Find me a man who doesn't and I'll find you a liar." Davey kept up with him, right up the slope
and into a little flat area with a great view. "Oh, this is nice."

"Best spot on earth." Ridge stamped around the area, flatting down the snow pack around the bench
before clearing it off. "It's great in the summer, too. Gets sun, can see forever." He dropped his
pack and sat down, undoing his jacket.

Davey sat next to him and undid the binding on his snowshoes. "I think I just might have to come
back to see that."

"You're more than welcome to," Ridge said, meaning it. He thought maybe Davey needed to
schedule in a few vacations, too, if his life was as busy as it appeared. "I think you'd like the view."

"I like the view I've got right now." Davey was looking at him with eyes so dilated his pupils
looked blown. "Exercise and hot men combined turn me on. Want?"

Ridge nodded. He wanted. "You first or me?"

Davey was already moving, his mittens off and his hands going to Ridge's fly while Davey got
down in the snow.

Ridge sat back, his legs splayed. "You're sure you want to do this? Kneeling in the snow, I mean.
There's probably better ways to get off. Less chilly ways, anyway."

Davey rolled his eyes and tugged his backpack over. "I'm not terribly delicate, but if it'll make you
feel better I'll get out my spare socks to kneel on. I want to suck you."

"They're your knees, your majesty. Your choice." Ridge unzipped both sets of pants he was
wearing, shoving the water resistant pair right down over his hips and butt. His soft track pants and
the wool layer under them, he just shoved aside. Cock and balls exposed, he stroked lazily while
Davey leaned forward, mouth eager.

Ridge watched while Davey took him in, bemused that the Very Important and Very Wealthy CFO
(or whatever the heck he was) would be so eager to get on his knees and suck cock. It was pretty
hot, really, and Ridge let himself push in a little more forcefully than he would've done under other
circumstances.

Unsurprisingly, Davey took it, looking up at him with those wide, dark eyes. He sucked in
response, too, his tongue playing over the head of Ridge's cock, Davey's lips stretched over his
teeth.

"So pretty," Ridge told him. "God, you should see yourself." He shuddered as Davey licked, his
tongue lapping at the underside of Ridge's dick. "Snow and rock and blue sky all around you, and
you all around my cock."

Davey moaned and went down on him, taking Ridge in deep.

"Yeah, like that." Ridge nodded and tried to spread his legs a bit more. "Take it."

Davey's next moan sent vibrations up and down Ridge's dick to his balls. The constant hum of
Davey's voice settled there, teasing at Ridge's senses, and then Davey's cool fingers joined in,
rolling Ridge's balls and jostling his gland.

"Fuck, yes." Ridge responded by burying his hand in Davey's hair and pulling his face closer,
fucking his mouth. "Good. Harder."

Davey sucked harder, the fingers of one hand pushed harder, and Ridge swelled harder. Ridge
could hear the sound of Davey's zippers, could feel the movements as Davey got his own prick out
and started beating off, but he couldn't see it.

"God." Ridge groaned and looked up at the sky, Davey's throat closing in around the head of
Ridge's cock, the sound of skin on skin as Davey jerked off so loud out in the wild. "Fuck. I'm
gonna come. Shit, too soon."

It was far too soon, but he couldn't help it. There was just something about it all -- the flirting, the
setting, the very hot man who knew just what he wanted and wasn't shy about getting it -- that
revved Ridge all the way up.

Davey's fingers moved back and two pushed up against Ridge's hole, a suggestion. And Davey
swallowed.

"Yes!" Ridge yelled as he shot, pumping his cock into Davey's throat as he came. "Yeah. God,
yes."

Davey grunted and swallowed, not letting Ridge go until Ridge had finished. Then he let Ridge
slide from his mouth, and rested there, panting against Ridge's balls as he stroked himself. "Oh,
fuck. God, yes. Yes, yes, yes."

Ridge tugged Davey's hair and pulled his head back until he could see Davey's eyes. "Come for
me," he said, short of breath himself.

Davey moaned and came, shooting indelicately onto the snow, white on white. "Nice." he drawled,
once more nuzzling into Ridge's balls. "Oh, nice."

Ridge couldn't argue with that. He kept petting Davey's hair, and when he could breathe properly,
he said, "We could take a side trip, if you want. There's hot springs. Just the two of us. We could
stop there on the walk back."

Davey looked up at him and then rocked to his feet, standing smoothly. "Jax is going to be cranky
with me when I sneak out on him tonight." He didn't seem bothered by that. "I think the hot springs
sounds like a fantastic idea." He straddled Ridge's thighs and kissed him for the first time, tasting of
come and granola. "You and me, naked and hot water. What should we do tonight?"

Ridge kissed him back, hands on Davey's ass. "Supper? My place? Can you shake Jax hard enough
to leave the Lodge?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I can." Davey smiled at him and kissed him once more before getting up and letting
Ridge put himself away and pull his pants back up. "I think, Ridge, that I've found my new most
favorite vacation spot."

Ridge chuckled as they settled their pack and got their snowshoes back on. "Best spot in the world,"
he agreed. "Come visit, any time. I'll be here." Sometimes it was good to be the king, but Ridge
figured being the king's guide for a bit was even better.

Kink in His Leg
By Chris Owen

By the time Jax got his boss back to the Lodge he knew that Mr. Teller and the guide, Ridge, had
hooked up out there in the wild, and were probably going to do it again. That wouldn't matter so
much, except Mr. Teller had a bad habit of not telling his security specialist when he was sneaking
out to have sex.

It was infuriating. It was annoying, it was more work, it was unnecessary.

It was kind of hot.

Jax was in a foul mood anyway, since he'd spent the whole day bored to tears. He'd read, he'd done
some paperwork, he'd filled in a couple of forms. He'd been in and out of the hot springs often
enough that the staff had been eyeing him up warily until he managed to drop Ridge's name into a
short conversation with the girl selling sandwiches and drinks. After that, they'd stopped eyeing
him up warily and had merely eyed him up. Jax didn't mind. It was strange, though, dropping the
name of some wilderness guide instead of Davey Teller's to get people to back off.

At the Lodge Jax followed Davey and Ridge into the lobby and hung back a little ways while they
either said goodbye or made their plans for later. He tried to lip-read the conversation, more so he'd
know if he had to watch the suite he and Mr. Teller were sharing or if he'd need to get the car and a
big thermos of coffee, but they were talking too fast for him to follow.

He'd try to get his boss to tell him, though he doubted that would happen without yelling on Jax's
part.

He thought maybe Mr. Teller and Ridge were done when they stepped apart and Mr. Teller waved
him over, but Ridge didn't leave.

"Yes, sir?" Jax said as he limped his way over. The hot springs had only helped his pulled muscle
while he was actually in the water.

"Ridge is going to get the Lodge's doctor to take a look at your leg."

"Not necessary." Jax shook his head. "It's just a pulled muscle. If I don't have to go harrying off
tonight I can just sit and let it heal up." He looked pointedly at his boss. "It would help if you'd just
stay in. Sir."

Davey Teller smirked at him and rolled his eyes. "You can stay in. I'll be busy and safe somewhere.
Don't worry, I won't subject you to babysitting from the living room. I don't think any of us want
that."

Jax sighed. "No, sir. We can't have that. I might actually get some peace that way."

Ridge rolled his eyes and left them, going to the front desk to talk to the young man there.

"Jax. Let it go."

Jax shook his head stubbornly. "What the hell do you pay me for, Davey? I'm your security. It's my
job

to keep you safe and I can't fucking do that if you're sneaking out like a teenage in heat. You

want to fuck his brains out, fine. Do it in your suite where I can put in earphones and not have to sit
in a cold car all night protecting your assets. If you didn't want me to do my job you shouldn't have
brought me here."

Infuriatingly, Davey did what he always did and just blew it off with a wave of his hand. "You
don't need to do that. You know where he lives, right? I swear I'll phone you if I need a ride home
or if I decide to spend the night. You don't need to come with us -- nothing is going to happen. It's
fine."

Jax was about to launch into his lecture on risk assessments and how he couldn't protect the target
without the target's cooperation -- again -- but Ridge came back, pulling a slight young man with
him, not the guy at the desk.

He looked pretty young to be a doctor. He looked really pretty, full stop, and Jax watched Davey
give the man a long once over before clearly deciding to stick with what he had. Jax rolled his eyes
and Ridge preened.

"This is Simon," Ridge said to Jax. "We got here too late to catch the doctor; he's gone for the day.
However, Simon is a registered massage therapist and I know he can help you out."

Simon, pretty young thing, nodded and held out his hand. "Ridge tells me it's a pulled muscle?" He
had a lovely deep voice, dark and smooth, seemingly at odds with his almost delicate features and
pale hair.

Jax nodded and shook his hand. "It's nothing, really."

"Maybe not." Simon shrugged. "But there's no reason to suffer if you don't have to."

"Great!" Davey beamed at them both and rocked up on the balls of his feet. "Use the suite, have
fun, order up some room service." He clapped Jax on the arm and nodded. "See you later, you
know where I'll be."

"Sir--"

"Bye, Simon." Ridge slapped Simon on the ass, took Davey by the hand and then they were gone.

"God damn it." Jax scowled at their backs. "I hate it when he does that."

"I suspect that's why he does it." Simon was watching them go, too, and Jax had a sneaky feeling
that Simon was talking about something else all together. "So, shall we go and see what we can do
about your leg?"

"I really don't need--"

"I know." Simon nodded. "But what else are you going to do? Come on, it's on the house. I'll get
your muscle loosened up, you can order in, watch some TV." He shrugged one shoulder. "I don't
have other plans."

Jax gave him a long look and finally nodded. "Okay. Let's go."

***

The suite was the best in the place, Jax assumed. Two bedrooms, a living room, a killer view.
Fireplace, big screen TV, and a hot tub. It would have been nice if Davey had actually stuck around
to use what he was paying for, but Jax had long since resigned himself to being swept up with
Davey's whims.

"Where do you want me?" he asked Simon.

"Lying down would be best. The couch is fine." Simon was rolling up the sleeves of his shirt,
showing off developed forearms that didn't really fit with the rest of his frame. "And you should
change into loose clothes or shorts, if you brought any. Swimming trunks?"

"They're wet." Jax tilted his head and looked at Simon. "Boxers okay?" He knew that no matter
how gay friendly the Blue Sky was they didn't exactly keep massage therapists on staff just to be
sexually harassed. Having a client stripping to his shorts in a suite instead of in the spa wasn't
precisely in Simon's job description, Jax assumed.

"Sure, that's fine." Simon nodded and pointed to the phone. "I'm going to call for ice packs, if that's
okay with you."

"Your gig, man." Jax nodded and went into the smaller of the two bedrooms and stripped off his
clothes, then headed to the shower with a clean pair of boxers and his towel. The hot springs were
nice and all, but the showers there had been less than adequate to Jax's tastes and he wanted to be
clean.

When he came out, in the boxers and nothing else, the ice packs had arrived and Simon had what
looked like a bed sheet spread over the couch. "Hey, ready?" He held up the remote and smiled.
"You can watch TV and unwind. We've got something like a dozen movie channels."

Jax was pretty sure that there still wouldn't be anything worth watching on. He took the remote,
though, and settled back on the couch, letting Simon position him so he could comfortably reach
the offending limb. "It felt okay in the water," Jax offered. He had one leg planted on the floor, the
sore one stretched out the length of the couch, and Simon was kneeling in the V of his legs, making
sure the sheet under Jax was protecting the upholstery.

"Sure. Hot water is soothing." Simon nodded and slicked his hands with oil, and lightly rubbed
some onto Jax's skin. "Chances are, though, what you need is ice and a good rub." He looked up
and winked. "Show me where it hurts, then watch TV."

Jax blinked and shifted just enough to show where the pain was, low on his thigh near his knee.
"Do you care what I watch?"

"Nope." Simon grabbed one of the throw pillows off the couch and knelt on it. "I got the ice packs
and some towels sent up when you were showering, so I'm good to go. You just relax and let me do
my thing." He winked again, his smile warm, and started to rub at Jax's calf muscle, working his
way up Jax's leg with strong fingers.

Jax watched him for a long moment and then settled back, leaning into the cushions as he turned on
the TV and started scrolling through menus. As expected, there wasn't much on, but he kept
looking anyway, one channel after another. It was easier than looking down and seeing Simon so
carefully working away.

"Your boss," Simon said, slowly, his thumb rubbing at a tender spot. "He seems to have taken a
shine to Ridge."

Jax snorted. "Yeah. I'm gonna have to go and find them later." He sighed, mostly out of self-pity
and annoyance, but also with a bit of relief as a small knot in his muscle let go. "Oh, yeah. There."

"You've got a lot more," Simon said dryly, moving to the next one. "Tell me if I'm hurting."

"It's okay." Jax flipped another channel and got some cop show. He left it there and glanced down
at Simon. "Ridge took a shine right back."

Simon snorted that time. "Not a shock. Mr. Jones seems just his type."

"Rich?"

"Not staying." Simon looked up at him and dug in with his thumb again. "Which is not to say that
they shouldn't have all the fun they can handle."

Jax gasped as Simon's hands worked out the tension below his knees. "Right. Just wish he didn't
make my job so hard."

"That's not all that's hard," Simon said. "You've really done yourself a good one."

For a moment Jax thought Simon was commenting on the state of Jax's cock, which was only
barely stirring, but a quick look told him Simon's gaze and attention was firmly on Jax's leg.
"Yeah," Jax said, nodding. "I wrenched it." He turned the channel again, his gaze locked onto the
TV to avoid looking at Simon's pretty, pretty face.

"Try channel seventy-three. It's one of our pay per views, but you get a nice long preview. See if it's
your taste or not."

Jax lifted an eyebrow and started pushing buttons. "Porn?"

"Mmmhmm." Simon got more oil and started pressing his hand into Jax's thigh, getting up on his
knees to do it. "Might be your speed. Might not."

"And you don't care if I watch porn while you work on my leg?" Jax's eyebrows shot up. "And here
I am, trying not to make you uncomfortable."

Simon's eyes twinkled. "I'm off the clock. You're my type."

"Leaving?"

"And hot."

Jax burst out laughing. "There's a reason Ridge picked you, huh?" He looked at the TV and put it
on channel seventy-three.

"He knows what I like and he took a guess on you. Do you mind?"

Jax shrugged. "A little presumptuous, I suppose, but I'm not going to whine too much." He was,
however, curious as to how much Ridge had guessed. And how much Davey had said.

Simon's touches were still firm, still all business, but now that they were both on the same page Jax
let himself pay more attention. Or rather, he let himself feel, let himself respond. It wasn't difficult,
given the sound track coming from the TV. Channel seventy-three was about what he'd expected,
some middle of the road gay porn, starting up with three guys all exchanging blow jobs, a lot of
murmured words that amounted to "fuck, yeah, suck it."

Simon snickered and knelt up a little higher, digging into Jax's thigh. "I think I've seen this one."

"They're all the same." Jax ignored the images and watched Simon's hands instead. He liked the
sound, though; he could hear skin on skin and the sounds of kissing. That was always hot. The
music wasn't too loud and it wasn't anything outright offensive to the ears.

"Try seventy-six." Simon's hands roamed higher, stroking and kneading Jax's thigh, one hand going
right up to massage Jax's cock over his boxers.

Jax splayed his legs a bit more and changed the channel. Seventy-six had no music soundtrack at
all, just a guy feeding his dick into an ass. "You know what?" Jax turned the TV off. "I'd rather just
be here."

Simon gave him a brilliant smile and stroked Jax's cock firmly. "Lovely. How does your leg feel?"

"Sore. Tender. Like I'll need ice later." Jax reached down and pulled Simon up onto his lap,
shoving his hand into Simon's loose cotton pants.

"You will." Simon nodded and straddled his thighs. "I'll take care of you."

"That's my job. Taking care of people."

Simon leaned over, covering Jax with his lean body. "Do you want to?" he whispered in Jax's ear,
grinding down on Jax's erection. "Do you want to take care of him? Mr. Davey Teller. You want to
take care of him? Ridge says you're in love with him."

"Ridge is a fucking ass." Jax growled and grabbed Simon by the hips, hard. "Did he tell you what
they did up on the mountain? He didn't have time for all that. You were only talking for a couple of
minutes."

"He told me the important parts." Simon was laughing at him, softly, not maliciously. "Me and
Ridge, we can say a lot with few words. And he's been known to be wrong. But I know what he's
doing to your boss right now. Want to know?"

No. Yes. God, yes. Jax kissed Simon to shut him up and got a mouthful of tongue and a writhing,
humping fiend on top of him for his trouble. He went with it, holding Simon in place and
wondering if maybe he should have left the TV on after all. Maybe Simon wouldn't talk, then.

Simon tore his mouth away and sat up, breathing hard. "You're a lot alike, I think." He peeled off
his shirt and tossed it on the floor, revealing lean muscle and only one small tattoo next to his
nipple, a stylized letter S.

"Me and Davey?"

"No, you and Ridge." Simon tugged the waistband of Jax's boxers down over his cock and gave a
low whistle. "Nice."

Jax rolled his eyes and then arched as Simon gathered up his cock and started stroking. "I'm
nothing like Ridge. Well, we're both fit. That's it."

"Right." Simon played, warm fingers dancing over Jax's erection. "You're both fit. And strong
willed, and you both want to shove your boss to his knees and make him beg. You know what?
He's doing it."

Jax snarled and grabbed at Simon's wrist. "What's your game?" He looked up into Simon's face and
saw the flicker of intense need just before it slid away, Simon's mask falling into place. "Oh. Oh, I
see."

"Do you?"

Jax heaved himself and Simon off the couch, the elastic of his boxers snapping back up and
catching the head of his cock. The fine edge of it was like a slice, a cut that ran deep and drew all of
his attention to a fine point. "I do," he said softly. "And maybe you're right. But let's leave your
boyfriend and my boss out of it, okay? Just you and me here."

Simon stared at him, possibly surprised to be suddenly standing, possibly just stunned that Jax still
had his wrist in a hard grip. "You and me."

"In my bedroom. It would just be my luck that Davey would get a whim and come on back only to
catch me balls deep in your ass over the coffee table."

"And that would be bad?" The words were there, all in a row, but Jax didn't miss the way Simon's
voice had gone tight or the way his cock was pushing out and distending the cut of his cotton pants.

"Interruptions would be bad and Davey would want to watch. I don't mind sharing, but I like to
know its going to happen before I get started. So. We're going to go into my bedroom, you're going
to get undressed and on the bed, and we'll take it from there. You and me. No Ridge or Davey.
Okay?"

Simon nodded slowly, his eyes wide. "Okay."

Jax resisted the urge to praise him for a correct answer. That could wait. Instead he slowly let go of
Simon's wrist and pointed. Simon went, meek and mild as a rabbit, right into the bedroom, his head
high but his body quivering oh so slightly.

Jax watched him go and wondered what the hell his cock was getting him into this time. The low
ache in his balls had kicked up to a fine level, and unless Davey walked right in that instant, Jax
was going to get exactly what was on offer.

Just like Ridge, indeed.

Snorting, Jax followed Simon, leaving their mess behind. If he was like Ridge, so what? That didn't
mean that Davey was like Simon.

In the bedroom Simon had moved quickly, eagerly stripping his clothes off and leaving them over
the arm of a chair. He was just getting his socks off as Jax walked in, and he scrambled onto the
bed before Jax could say anything.

"On your back." Jax went to the cabinet that hid a small TV and opened one of the lower drawers,
fetching out lube and rubbers. "Legs apart."

Simon did one better, reaching up to grab the headboard. He'd fallen silent, apparently not about to
tease or goad any more, now that he was getting what he'd been after. Jax didn't mind; he could
handle silence, and Simon was very pretty. Very willing. Very, very hard.

Jax sat on the edge of the bed and looked at Simon. He wasn't as young as he'd first appeared, his
fair complexion giving him an advantage that way. This wasn't a young kid, though, not by a long
shot. The eyes knew a lot, and the body responded to the stimulation like Simon knew his own
kinks and what he liked best. Simon knew the score and Jax liked that a lot.

When Jax smiled, Simon shivered.

"Okay." Jax stood up and stripped off his boxers, his cock hard and ready. "Do you want to get off
once, fast?"

"No, I'm good. You? I can suck you off."

"I know you can." It wasn't an order or even a suggestion of one, but Simon got the point. At least,
his cock did, lifting high. Jax smiled and got on the bed, moving to straddle Simon's shoulders.
"Open up, pretty."

Simon opened up and Jax slid the head of his cock in for Simon to lick. Jax looked down at him
almost clinically, watching tongue and pink lips and eyes that were the wrong color until he felt his
dick give up a bit of fluid, then he moved back. When Simon moaned at the loss, Jax smiled.

"What am I going to do with you?" he said, opening one of the rubbers. "Aside from fucking you, I
mean?"

Simon licked his lips and watched Jax's movements. "What do you like?"

"I like pretty. I like eager to please. I like what you're offering."

"So take it."

Jax growled and stroked the rubber onto his dick, then reached for Simon's pretty hair. Taking hold,
he tugged until Simon got the message and came with him, up and off the bed, then the few steps to
the chair. "Down." He pushed and Simon went to his knees, facing the chair. "Is this how you want
me to take it from you?" he whispered, nudging Simon's knees apart with his own foot. "On the
floor?"

Simon moaned softly and leaned forward, resting his chest on the chair and offering up his ass.

"God, pretty." Jax blinked and let go of Simon's hair. "You stay there."

"Uh-huh." Simon nodded and put his forehead on the chair. "Not going anywhere. Nope."

Jax grinned, knowing Simon couldn't see it. There was being dominant and then there was being
dominant. This particular situation fell into a play area that Jax rarely let himself go to; it would be
too easy to push too far, too fast. Simon, though, seemed to know not only what he wanted but
what Jax was capable of doing. The pull of hair had been controlled. The show of strength hadn't
been malicious. They were playing and that was cool.

That was what Jax needed. He had some steam to blow off and Simon was willing. Good enough.

"Ass higher," Jax said when he had the lube open and his fingers slicked. "You want me to fuck
you, you make it easier for me."

Simon's breath was coming in harsh gasps. He lifted though, arching his back into a deep curve.

"You wax?" Jax slid wed fingers over smooth, hot skin and into Simon's body.

"Uh-huh."

"I like it."

"Me, too. Feels... More. Oh, God." Simon swore and his ass grasped at Jax's fingers.

"You can feel more or you want more?" Jax asked, finger-fucking Simon steadily. He was on his
knees between Simon's feet, watching the muscles of Simon's back ripple.

"Yes." Simon nodded and spread his knees, somehow managing to keep his ass up at fucking
height. "Oh, God. Please. There, please."

"Here?" Jax pulled his fingers out and traced around Simon's hole. "Right here?"

"No!" Simon whimpered. "In me. Please."

Jax wished he'd had some time to prepare himself mentally for these games. "Stay awhile. Say yes.
Say you're going to stay for more."

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

Simon lifted his head and looked over his shoulder. "I'll stay until your boss comes back or until
morning comes. Which ever comes first."

"I come first." Jax ignored the mention of Davey and shoved his cock into Simon's ass, effectively
shutting Simon up. "Oh." Simon was tight. A lot tighter than he'd expected and Jax pulled up short
on the pounding he'd been planning on as Simon clamped down around him. "God."

"Don't stop!" Simon yelled. He pushed back, begging. "Don't stop, I need it. You need it. Please!
Fuck me."

Jax grit his teeth and held onto Simon's hips, keeping him still. "Say it again."

"Fuck me." Simon was breathing fast, panting, his voice thready and low. "Please."

"So polite." Jax thrust in and followed his own needs; making Simon beg for it would have to be
enough of a game for right then. Maybe later they could play a deeper game before rutting, but that
would need a shower, some food and a little bit of thought.

Jax was beyond thought.

He thrust and fucked and dug his fingers in and found the angle that would make Simon yell even
louder and without any thought to the people who could be in the next rooms. He didn't care.
Nothing mattered but coming and then doing it again, fucking away the boredom and annoyance of
the day with this pretty man.

Jax's balls pulled up and he reached around to stroke Simon off, wanting him to come first.
"Ready?" he asked, roughly pulling at Simon's cock.

He didn't get any words, just a nod and then Simon was coming, shooting on the floor through Jax's
fingers and squeezing Jax's cock impossibly hard as his body spasmed.

"Yes!" Jax buried himself in as deep as he could go, the rug scraping at his knees and making them
rough and raw, the pain a counterpoint to the swirl of pleasure working its way out his cock. "Oh,
fuck me, yes."

Simon laughed softly, shaking underneath him and shuddering out the last of his orgasm. "Staying.
Oh, yes."

Jax panted and nodded, staying right where he was as his cock throbbed and twitched, not quite
starting to soften. "Until morning."

"Or until Davey Teller comes in and you see him for what he is." Simon sounded smug.

"And what's that?"

"A man who needs to be told what he wants and how to take it."

Jax couldn't quite make himself dismiss the idea. "You're going to complicate my life, pretty."

Simon merely smiled at him again, and winked.

Snow Blind
By Julia Talbot

"You want me to do what?" Jamie dug his fingernails into his palms, his breath starting to come
fast. He hated hyperventilating, had never done it in his life before the accident. "Are you crazy? I
can't even get around the fucking house, let alone a ski lodge."

"Come on, babe. It'll be fun. There will be hot tubs and buffets and shit." Clay came up and
wrapped around him, making him flinch. He never felt it coming, and he couldn't see it, so when
Clay touched him out of the blue, it made him a little crazy.

Like he could do fun anymore. Like he could fucking do anything anymore. Clay'd lost his
motherfucking mind.

"They have a suite there, babe, one that's... accessible." Clay said it so carefully, like it might set
him off.

In a perfect world, he'd have closed his eyes, but it didn't fucking matter if he did it now. "Well, at
least I won't hurt anybody in a special room."

"It has a huge bed. A fucking whirlpool. A massive fireplace."

"It sounds like it'd be beautiful." Not that he'd fucking know.

"It will. There will be lots to taste, too. They have gourmet room service." Clay kissed the back of
Jamie's neck. "I know how you feel about eating out, still."

"Yeah, well. I hate being the freak show at the carnival." Clay swore the scarring wasn't bad, but he
knew better. He felt things, heard how people sounded.

"Babe..." The sigh left a little wet imprint on his neck. "I just want us to go somewhere and have
fun. Forget for a little while."

Right.

Like he could forget for a single fucking second. Ever again. He'd never see Clay's face, never see
the sun, never see himself in the goddamn mirror. There wasn't any fucking forgetting for him.
None.

"Okay. If you want to, I'll go." He could sit in a hotel room just the same as he sat here. Hell,
maybe Clay'd find somebody to go out with, fuck. Enjoy life with. Not that he was bitter or
anything.

"Excellent." Clay turned him, not letting him move away, and kissed him on the mouth. He had to
give it to the man. Clay had been there through it all.

He didn't know how long it was fucking going to last, of course, but Clay'd been there.

Jamie sighed, kissed Clay back carefully.

"Mmm." Clay hummed against his lips, the noise pure and happy, which was enough to make him
want to bash Clay's head in.

He pulled back a little, took a deep breath. "I think I'm going to take a shower."

"Okay. Holler if you need me." Clay patted his ass and kissed his neck.

"You got it."

He grabbed his cane, started the long walk down the hall toward the bathroom.

He made his way carefully through the front room, then to the bedroom and the bathroom, where
he sat on the toilet and shook for a bit. A fucking ski lodge.

Yeah. That was going to be a blast.

***

Clay unloaded the bags and let the bellhop put them on a cart before going to help Jamie out of the
car. He was a little desperate, and this was a hail Mary pass of a vacation. He had to snap Jamie out
of the depression he'd sunk into, had to get him living again.

It had been two fucking years since some newly-licensed sixteen year old had mingled with a cell
phone, a cheating boyfriend, a lost cherry on a cigarette, and a busy highway. The resulting
accident had stolen Jamie's career, Jamie's sight, and sixteen months of Jamie's life in rehab. Clay'd
be damned if it stole Jamie from him.

Jamie had always been quick to laugh, quick to fight, and stubborn. Now he was just stubbornly
sunk into a funk, and Clay knew it was partly because the man was scared. The scars were deep,
obvious, and made people gasp. Clay wanted to beat them, kinda, even though from the outside he
could understand it. No one wanted to be confronted with that kind of possibility.

His lover had been the golden boy -- someone everyone wanted to hang with, talk to, know. Now?
Shit. Jamie was like a fucking leper. Clay didn't give a shit, though. He loved Jamie all the more for
having almost lost him, and he was gonna drag the man kicking and screaming into a new life.

Jamie was bundled up, face hidden with scarf and glasses and hat and coat. The only thing that
proved he was different was the white cane.

"It's really pretty, babe. Everything is bright and white and amazing. The lodge is all rustic and
shit."

"Cool." Jamie huddled deeper in his coat. "Is there a place to sit while you deal with the desk?"

"Yeah. It's pretty empty. You want to go sit by the firepit? It looks warm." He could see Jamie's
teeth starting to chatter.

"Sure." Jamie let him lead the way, then huddled on the sofa. This sucked. This whole fucking
thing sucked.

Clay unclenched his fists, listening to his fingers creak. "Okay, babe. I'll be right back." Then he
leaned in and whispered. "This is a gay friendly lodge. That's the coolest part."

"Yeah? Maybe you'll get laid." Jamie winked, obviously trying to play.

"I bet I will. I think this place can put us in the mood, babe." He bit back his instinctive protest that
he'd sleep with anyone else. They didn't need to fight.

The smile he got was fucking laced with sadness.

"I'll be right back." Making sure Jamie was good and settled, he headed off to check in.

The guy at the counter smiled at him, clean cut and perky and looking weirdly out of place. "Good
afternoon. Can I help you?"

"Yeah, I'm checking in. Clay Marsh. We're in the accessibility suite."

"Ah, yes." The guy took his credit card and driver's license, tiptapping away at the computer. "Your
room's ready for you, and there's information en suite about the different outdoor activities
available. If there's anything we can do to make your stay pleasant..."

"I just need to get my bags to the room. My, uh, boyfriend is blind. He's comforted by having his
things." Something that smelled right. Felt normal.

"Absolutely. I'll have them sent right now."

"Thank you." He smiled. Shit, he didn't know how to be all rich bitch and shit. He just knew he
needed to get Jamie settled.

The guy smiled back, though, like it was no big thing, and maybe it wasn't. Shit, he didn't know.

As it was, he barely remembered to tip the cute little stoner who delivered their bags. Jamie sat on
the bed, holding himself very still. When the door closed behind the bellhop, Clay went to unpack
Jamie's pillow.

He wasn't even sure Jamie was breathing, he was so fucking still.

"Babe? How about the hot tub?" That would relax all those stiff muscles.

"Is it in here or out by a pool?"

"It's on our little deck. No one can see." They could go in naked. Apparently they really disinfected
between guests. Just in case.

"Okay." Jamie unzipped his coat, took his hat off and held it in his hands.

"Here, babe." He took the hat, setting it on the dresser. "The dresser is about three steps from the
bed. Kinda tight because the bed is so big."

"Okay. Where's the bathroom?"

"To your left facing like you are now. About four feet. There's a shower, a sink thingee, and the
toilet has its own little stall.

Jamie nodded once, then stood. "Did you pack bathing suits?"

"I did, but I have no idea which bag they're in." That was obvious, he knew, but he had to try.

"They're not in the duffle." One of the things they'd taught Jamie in rehab was how to pack a bag,
pack his wallet.

"No. No, they're probably in the wheelie. We could go without." He took Jamie's hand, rubbing his
thumb over the back.

Jamie stopped still again, eyes closed, breath almost non-existent.

"Babe? I'm..." Shit. No, he wasn't sorry, damn it. He wanted to do it with his boyfriend in the hot
tub. There was not one damned thing wrong with that.

The coat and hat were gone, so he started on the sweater and shirt. "Come on, babe."

"It's okay. It felt good."

"Yeah?" He let his fingers trail over Jamie's collarbones. "So do you. I mean, your skin."

Jamie pinked a little, swallowed. "You don't have to do this. I know it's got to be a little like
fucking Frankenstein."

"Oh, ew. Frankenstein was a doctor. You know how many germs those guys carry?" He chuckled,
kissing the tip of Jamie's nose. "You? You're more like art."

"Art? Shit..." He hated seeing the tears in Jamie's eyes.

"You're mine. That's all you have to know. I'm not giving you up." It came out more fierce than
Clay had expected, but it was true. "I need you, Jamie. Never forget that."

"You're a fucking fool. You ought to walk away. Just go and not look back."

"Why? Because you're being an ass? I would have left you eight years ago if I minded that." He and
Jamie had fought like tigers when they'd met.

"Fuck you." Oh. Oh, was that a smile? Shit, Jamie's face might crack if the dour bastard smiled.

"Okay! You can do me in the hot tub." He cackled, pulling at Jamie's pants. He was on a roll.

"I am not humping your ass outside where anyone can see."

"They can't see us! I wouldn't lie." Clay kissed Jamie again. "Look, I'll go fire up the tub and make
sure we're protected, okay? Recon."

"Okay." Jamie nodded, the cane that was always on his wrist snapping out. "I'll hit the head."

"Make sure you come back, babe." He wasn't going to let Jamie lock himself away again. Those
days were over.

Starting today.

***

Jamie figured this whole thing was a cluster fuck waiting to happen.

A hot tub on a deck, open to the elements and line of sight, where there was snow on the ground.
Christ. Clay had lost his mind. What if someone saw? What if he slipped and fell and got frostbite
on his ass. Shit, Clay should never have left him alone to think so much.

The cold blast of air from the right told him that Clay had slipped back inside. "Hey, babe. We're a
go. There's even a heated walkway."

"No one can see me?"

"Nope. There's a tinted glass thing and a high, high rail. We can see out, but all they can see is
black glass." Clay bounced on the bed next to him, lips smacking his shoulder.

"A heated walkway? No shit?"

"No shit. We can even go out barefoot." Clay took his hand. "So?"

"Buttons." See him. See him try to joke.

"Let's take a dip. I promise we can order room service and hide in this very cushy bed for the rest of
the day if we want to." Clay was touching him, holding his hand and rubbing like before.

Lightning shot up his arm again, that idle rubbing the first hint of real arousal he'd had in months.
He went still, feeling it.

"Is this okay?" Clay whispered it, but didn't stop stroking his skin.

He swallowed, tried to wet his tongue, but it didn't work, so he just nodded.

"Good. You feel so good, babe." Clay had that note of longing in his voice, that real want. He knew
the sound.

"Thought... thought we were gonna get in the hot tub." He was going to spring a woody.

"We are." Chuckling, moving close, then away, Clay hoisted him up gently, setting him on his feet.

He stood there, trying to figure out what to do next, where to go.

Clay tucked his hand into the crook of one bare arm. "I got you, babe."

He nodded, held on. "I know, Clay. For real."

"Good." Clay led him to the door, and he could feel the cold air on his chest, on his thighs. He
smelled a little chlorine.

"It's cold." There wasn't any wind, though. None at all.

"It is. But that will make it better in the tub, huh?" Like Clay knew anything about cold. Lord.

"I'm not complaining." He was just... stating a fact.

"Oh." Moving slowly so he could get the feel for everything, Clay took him along the little path,
which was nice and warm.

He could hear the water bubbling, feel the wet steam.

"The nice thing about this one is that it has this little door. You don't have to crawl on a wet thing
and all. I mean, you still have to do this side seat thing..."

"I don't get it? A door?"

"Yeah. Like those tubs we used to see on the TV?" The sound of a little door swinging open made
it all click. There would be a bench thingee that he could sit on and turn sideways to get into the hot
tub. Accessible. He sighed softly, got in. He was tired of the word accessible. He was tired of being
blind.

"Is it good, babe?"

It was once Clay was in there next to him, touching him. Those hands were cold to begin with, but
the hot water warmed them quickly. He nodded. He wasn't sure what was good anymore, but he
knew this didn't suck.

"Yum. I like the bubbles." Clay swayed, so close to him.

"You always used to." They'd gone to every weird-assed hot tub they could find, before.

"Uh-huh. I love me some fizzy water." Hip bumping his, Clay let the water push them together.

He leaned his head back, eyes open, pretending for a second, that it was nighttime. Dark. Clay
helped, just humming, holding his hand under the water. Like they had all the time in the world and
nothing else to do. Of course, he had a metric fuckton of time, didn't he?

Time and cash and Clay.

"Yeah. I get tired of it sometimes, thinking."

"I bet you do." That hand squeezed his. "I'm sorry I can't help more, babe."

"I know. Sometimes I think I should have just given up back at the accident."

"No!" Clay cleared his throat and lowered his voice. "No, babe. I may be selfish, but I want you
with me."

He sighed, reached for Clay. "I just... I worry." A lot.

"Well, I know you have to. Everything is totally different than your whole life. But I'm here." Clay
sort of grabbed him, letting him float up and sort of straddle Clay's thighs.

"Hey." He reached up, hands wrapping around Clay's upper arms.

"Hey, babe. You were shivering a little."

Clay's hips rolled closer to him, and he slipped, gasping just a little bit.

"I got you, babe." Clay's lips moved against his, so close suddenly. "We can't go anywhere in here.
Just float with me."

"Uh-huh. Feels good." Clay felt so good under him.

"It does. Makes me horny." There was no pressure there, no urgency. Just a statement of fact.

"Yeah?" He didn't know what to say; he wasn't sure that he could get it up.

"Yep. You make me horny, though. Always."

"Still?" It was important, to hear it.

"God, yes. You, alive and here in my arms? Always." Clay kissed him, lips lingering on his, teeth
rubbing his lower lip.

He gasped a little, and those teeth dug in a little harder. Clay moaned for him, cock starting to press
against his inner thigh.

"I don't know if I can..." Jamie wanted to, though. Fuck, he wanted to.

"We can just feel each other." Clay had always been a considerate lover, so at least he didn't feel
like he was being coddled.

"I can still feel, I guess." God, he was a pussy.

"Mmm. You can. You do. Feel good." Wow. Coherent Clay. Hot tubs had always done that,
though.

He leaned forward, trying not to slam their faces together. His lips brushed Clay's jaw, heading for
his lover's throat. Clay's chin lifted, that sharp point at the end of it brushing his face. He found the
pulse at the base of that long throat, beating hard for him. He licked and nibbled, just a little, loving
on Clay.

Little noises sounded, just barely heard above the bubbling water, but they told him how happy
Clay was to be touched. Just like Jamie. He didn't ask if it was okay; he just kept licking, floating.

Clay must have thought it was more than okay. Those hands he loved touched him, and that hot,
wet body rubbed on his. He let one hand float down, fingers tracing the rippled abs.

It was weird to think how Clay still had to be working out, but he never went with anymore, never
got to see the man sweat. And he never would again. Damn it.

He sighed, leaned back, trying to hide his sudden rage in a stretch.

"Babe?" Clay floated them together again, kissed his tight jaw. "What is it?"

"I want to see you. I want to fucking look at you and watch you and admire you!"

"I want that, too." Clay said it quietly, stroking his cheeks. "I want you, though, no matter what."

"Why?"

"Because you're my Jamie and I love you." Clay sat back a little, holding him there, about six
inches separating their faces, from the feel of Clay's breath. "Tell me something, babe. If I lost, like,
my legs or something. Would you leave me?"

"Don't be ridiculous." Not having legs wouldn't leave Clay helpless.

"Okay, what if I went deaf?"

"Then we'd be in real trouble -- you remember that movie with Gene Wilder and Richard Pryor?"

"Yeah." Clay snorted. "I'm trying to make a point, babe."

His hips bucked up, playfully, and the little tease sorta surprised him. Clay laughed, just a low, sexy
sound, and felt good suddenly. Felt almost like old times. He wanted to keep that, just for a second,
so he leaned forward, praying to hell that he managed to get his mouth on Clay's.

He might have been a little off, but Clay didn't leave him hanging. That hot mouth met his, lips
moving against him. Oh. Oh, damn. He kept his eyes closed, focused on the kiss, on the heat of his.
Oh, fuck.

Clay moaned a little, hands sliding up and down Jamie's back, massaging, digging in good. It felt so
fine. Clay's fingers found a hot spot and he shuddered and pushed closer, his tongue pushing in to
taste. Fuck, he remembered that flavor, knew it.

He'd almost forgotten it. That would have been monumentally stupid. Of course, monumental
stupidity was sort of his calling card and...

Clay growled softly, nails scraping on his skin and his train of thought derailed, just like that.

Hello.

The tiny bite that stung his lower lip really make him jump, but in the best fucking way ever. Hot,
wonderful man. His hips started rolling, his cock starting to fill, to ache.

"Jamie." Clay whispered his name, that bedroom voice right there, reminding him of all the things
Clay loved to do.

"Yeah, yeah, babe." He nodded, fingers framing Clay's face, sinking into the thick, heavy hair so
the kisses could get deeper.

They moved, the water lapping at their skin, bubbles everywhere. The cool breeze on his face made
it that much more exciting, giving him another level of sensation. Like he needed it with Clay
touching his cock that way.

All of a sudden, he needed. Now. He wanted to come and he wanted Clay to come and he wanted it
to be his fault.

"Babe? You with me?" Clay was panting for him, shaking a little, and it was more than Clay had
given him since... well, since. It was like it was time again. Finally.

"Want you. Bad." He couldn't quite get his breath, not really.

"Good. Good, babe. I want that, too." Clay's fingers lingered on his cock, stroking, up and down.

He nodded, focused on the pressure, the steady tug on his prick. He was getting stupid, words
becoming moans. Clay was right there with him, humping on him, grunting. He could hear water
splash on the heated sidewalk, hear the sizzle as it danced.

"Harder." He managed that one word, his entire body tight, hard, on fucking fire.

"Yeah." Pushing, pulling, Clay worked him harder, hand around him, squeezing.

"Fuck. Fuck, it's good. Clay..." He twisted, started humping toward the touch.

"Love." Kissing him madly, Clay moved, stroked, made him crazy. He hadn't been sure he would
ever feel like this again.

He just managed to get his hand around Clay's prick, his hand moving fast and hard. He fucking
loved that desperate sound. Loved it. Those lean hips moved, Clay's thighs sliding under his, and
they were going ninety with no brakes. Just like that.

"Want you to fuck me. Want your fucking mouth on me. Want to feel everything." He hissed the
words in Clay's ear, making promises for tonight, tomorrow. Soon. Not now. Now he just needed
this.

"Oh, fuck. Fuck, babe." Clay rocked him, stroked him, kissing him so hard. Clay knew. He always
knew.

Jamie cried out into their kiss, his entire body rock fucking hard as he shot. Seconds behind him, if
that, Clay came for him, groaning, shaking like a leaf. Oh, God that felt good.

"Clay." His heart was booming in his ears.

"Mmmhmm. See? Told you the hot tub was a good idea."

"Ass." He swayed, floating.

"No." Clay's hand moved, sliding on his cock, which was almost too sensitive. "I don't think this is
an ass."

"Oh. No. No, it's... damn."

"I love you, Jamie. I want you to know that. 'Kay?"

Yeah. Yeah, he knew. And Clay had been right. It was good to get away.

Love Boarding
By Sean Michael

Dawg watched as Jay laid down an inverted 720 McTwist, landing fakie and riding the pipe up into
a 1020.

So much for staying off the radar.

Jay ended the run with huge air and Dawg put his head back and whooped. Laughing, he headed
down the pipe himself, pulling the same tricks, even if his air wasn't as high as Jay's. He landed
fakie and sprayed Jay as he came to a stop next to his best friend.

The other boarders on the pipe cheered for them and he elbowed Jay. "Dude. I thought we'd come
here to lie low." The Blue Sky Ranch was gay friendly and he and Jay'd come to relax, shred it and
make out without anyone saying anything.

"Huh?" Dude, Jay was rocking pretty and shit, but not real bright.

Dawg rolled his eyes. "You're showing off." Not that he really minded. "You wanna do another run
or go back to our room?"

"One more run?" Jay grinned at him, all fucking lit up.

Fuck, how could he say no to that face? He didn't even want to. "Uh-huh. Let's kick it!"

Jay whooped, slapping people on the back on the way, the shaggy black hair blowing in the wind.
Laughing, Dawg followed. That infectious happiness, along with the pretty, was why he was here
with Jay.

They took the lift back up to the top of the pipe and Dawg watched the other snowboarders. Most
of them weren't killer, not like him and Jay, but they were all dudes and some of them were holding
hands and shit. And nobody was paying any attention. Pretty fucking dope.

The crowd was starting to pay attention to Jay, though. Everybody fucking had to.

"What're you gonna lay down the pipe this time?"

Jay laughed. "Maybe I'll just shoot down the middle, man."

"As if!" Dude. He wanted to plant a kiss on that laughing mouth. Like, right there.

"Dude, you like shooting down the middle with me..."

He put his head back and laughed. "I do. Like for real."

JayJay reached out, goosed his ass. "Come on. Down the pipe and we'll do our bunny
impersonation, eh?"

He jumped and swatted at Jay's hand. "Yeah. Together."

Jay whooped, skidded down to the lip and waited for an opening, then bang, the bastard was gone.

"Dude! You forgot something!" He followed, the snow noisy beneath his board. This was the
fucking life.

"Did I?" He chased Jay's laughter.

He was hot on Jay's ass, and he had to admit, the view was awesome and he suddenly had plans to
chase it all the way to their room.

Jay pulled a grab, a 360, the crowd hollering. Monkey see, monkey do, and so he pulled a double
grab, his landing a little wobbly on the 360, but he made it. Jay was hooting, clapping and making
monkey noises.

He tackled Jay, both of them going down. Jay kissed him, like whoa, tongue pushing right into his
lips. Fucking A!

He sucked on Jay's tongue, wriggling. He swore he could feel Jay's boner, even through their snow
pants. The crowd went wild, and Jay looked up at him, tan and grinning in the snow.

"Dude! You kissed me in public." It'd been awesome.

"Did I? You sure?"

"You did! See?" He brought their mouths back together again.

Jay's tongue was hot as fuck, riding his lips like they were shredding.

He finally pulled back, breathless like they'd just pulled a wicked trick. "Dude. Hot tub in the room.
Race you!"

"Dude!" Jay scrambled up, right behind him, following close.

The half pipe wasn't too far from the chalet and they shredded partway, ran the rest, just two crazy
boarders. Two crazy fuckers. Jay was right on his ass, pushing him. They bounded through the
lobby, dodging bell hops and maids and other guests. He took the stairs two at a time, the sound of
Jay's breathless laughter echoing along behind him.

He started patting himself down with his free hand, looking for his room card.

"Hurry. Hurry up. Find it." Jay was pinching, poking.

He swatted at Jay's hands and then remembered slipping the card into his inside pants pocket. He
pushed his hand into his snow pants, digging around. Jay's hand pushed into his pants too,
distracting him.

He half fell against the door, his eyes closing as he groaned. "JayJay. Dude."

That might have been it, but his own hand hit against the edge of the room card and he grabbed
hold, pulling it out triumphantly.

"Oh, ho!" Jay bounced. "Open. Open."

He had to run the damn thing over the reader twice before it turned green, but at last he had the
door open and they stumbled through together. Jay's laughter pushed him in, followed him. He
turned, pulling off his coat and shoving at his snow pants.

"Naked time!"

Jay pounced his ass.

He went down, bringing Jay with him. He started pushing at Jay's outdoor clothes. "Dude. Naked
time means we take our clothes off."

"Can we do that, dude?" Jay was a wiggly fucker.

"I'm trying!" He straddled Jay's waist and got his top half naked, then he turned, has ass on Jay's
stomach as he worked off snow pants and long underwear. He ignored the fact that his own snow
pants were stuck around the tops of his thighs.

Jay's hands landed on his ass, squeezing and pinching.

"Okay, okay. Almost." Fuck, Jay felt good. He wriggled, his balls rubbing against Jay's abdomen.

It was about then he realized there was no way he was going to get Jay's snow pants down over
those boots. Fuck it, the stuff they needed was naked. That fat boner was dripping, hard, and all his.
Not even bothering to turn back around, he bent down and took it into his mouth, sucking on it like
was the best popsicle ever. Which really, it was.

"Fuck!" Jay's hands landed on his ass with a thud.

"No, JayJay -- Suck!" He cackled at his own joke and then went back to working the tip of Jay's
long prick.

Jay tugged at his pants, trying to get to him. Oh, they could... yeah. He jumped up and kicked off
his boots and then his snow pants and long johns.

"Dude! Sixty-nine!" Laughing, he settled back down, knees by Jay's shoulders, cock right there at
Jay's mouth.

"You know it." Jay slapped his ass, tongue hot as fire on his prick.

He wriggled his ass, loving the way Jay's mouth moved on his skin. Then he focused on Jay's prick,
watching the liquid bead at the top. He swiped at it with his tongue. Jay groaned around his prick,
and the suction got harder. He wrapped his own mouth around Jay's prick and set up an eager
rhythm. Up and down, suck Jay, get sucked by Jay. It was killer.

Jay's hands rocked and squeezed and tugged at him. He began to rock himself, pushing his cock
into Jay's mouth and then forward to take Jay in deep into his. Fuck, he loved this shit. Loved the
way Jay sucked and moaned and wanted his ass. It was like shredding it, like pulling wicked air,
right up there.

Pumping his hips, his head bobbing like crazy, he felt himself get closer to losing it. Jay's fingers
slipped between his cheeks, circled his hole. It made him whine and moan around Jay's cock. Jay
pushed inside, fucking him a little, touching him inside. Oh, fuck. Fuck. He loved that and his hips
bounced, helping Jay fingerfuck him faster. He could feel Jay, humming and grunting around his
cock, making him a little crazy. It was fucking killer. For real.

He found Jay's balls, rolling them, tugging. Jay's knees bent, just like that, and the dude grunted,
hips pushing hard. He slid his finger down and returned the favor, pushing it into Jay's body. Jay
was a fucking furnace, burning around him. Damn. After this and a soak in the hot tub, he wanted
to feel that around his cock.

He gave a happy hum around Jay's prick, finger moving as fast as his hips. Jay was leaking into his
lips, bitter salt dripping into him. He sucked it all down, tongue working the slit; he wanted more.
He wanted everything JayJay would give him.

Hot lips were wrapped around the base of his cock, the suction strong and fierce, demanding. Fuck,
he was gonna! Dawg jerked and pushed deep, shooting down Jay's throat. Jay swallowed around
his cock, making these happy, hungry sounds. It felt so fucking good.

It was Jay's turn now and he sucked harder, finger pushing at Jay's hole.

"Yeah. Yeah, baby. Harder." He chuckled. JayJay always wanted more. He pushed his fingers into
his mouth along with Jay's cock and then pushed two into Jay's ass. "Fuck!" Jay loved it, wiggling
underneath him and bucking hard. His own cock slid along Jay's cheek, keeping him hard as he
worked his fingers in and out.

"Want your cock. Want to feel you fucking riding my ass." The words were grunted against his
skin.

He let Jay's cock go so he could nod and manage to get out a response. "Yes. 'K. Gotta move. Bed?
Boots off."

"Uh-huh." Jay's head knocked on the floor as he nodded.

Laughing and already buzzing again, he got up and started tackling Jay's boots and snow pants. Jay
was so not helping. "Dude. A hand here?" The fucker started clapping. He smacked the side of Jay's
hip. "Fucker."

"Uh-huh." Those hot, burning eyes met his. "Yours, though."

Oh, fuck.

He held Jay's gaze and then nodded, a wide grin pulling at his lips. "Now help me get these fucking
snow pants off or I swear I'm gonna rip them off."

"No way. They cost a fucking fortune." Jay helped, though, and got them naked.

They finally tumbled onto the bed, laughing as it bounced beneath them.

"Dude! This is going to be great!"

Jay hooted and bit his chin, "Fucking A, Dawg. Let's break the bed."

"Oh, fuck. Wet stuff." He rolled off the bed and padded over to his bag, grabbing the container he
needed before jumping back into the bed.

Jay was all spread out, inked and scarred and tanned and hot, one hand pumping the long cock
sweet and slow. Jay was waxed clean as a board, the look like butter. So fucking hot.

Dawg knelt between Jay's legs for a minute, just looking. His cock jerked at the sight and groaned a
little. "Gonna ride you like the pipe."

"Fuck, yes." Jay gave him a wicked grin, spread those legs wider.

He slicked up his fingers and pushed two into Jay, that amazing heat swallowing him right up.

"Baby..." Jay bore down, eyes fastened on his.

"So dope, JayJay." He pushed another finger in, slipping and sliding them against the softest,
tightest place ever.

Jay grunted and nodded, hips rocking in an obscene damn dance.

"Fuck. Gonna be so good on my cock." He grabbed the condom with his free hand and tore it open
with his teeth, gloving up while Jay kept dancing on his fingers.

He took his fingers out and moved forward, rubbing his cock over Jay's skin, rubbing their cocks
together before pressing against the tight little hole. Jay took him in, hole opening around him,
sucking him in.

"Dude!" He sank all the way in, his hands dropping to either side of Jay's head to prop him up.

"Mmm. In. In. In. In."

"Yeah." He nodded, pushing with his hips every time Jay said the word.

Jay rolled, body shifting like he was soaring. Jay was so hot, so tight around his cock and Dawg
punched into him over and over. It was fucking dope.

"More. Fuck." Jay reached down, jacked his wang.

He grabbed hold of Jay's legs, using them for leverage as he sped up, hammering home.

"Soon." There was no way Jay could hold on much longer.

"Come on then, JayJay. Fucking lay it down on my dick."

"Dee!" Jay screamed his name, ass milking his prick as he shot.

"JayJayJayJayJay." He repeated it over and over as his hips snapped like he was having a fit.

He shot so hard his muscles ached. He collapsed onto Jay, crashing onto the lean muscles.

"Got you." Those strong arms wrapped around him.

"You so do, JayJay." He shifted enough to get rid of the condom and then settled, let his best friend
in the whole world hold him close. "It was good we came, yeah?"

"No shit, man. It was wicked."

"You're wicked." Dude, he was turning into a sap.

"Mmmhmm. Like a witch." Dork.

He thumped Jay's chest. "Shut up and go to sleep, fucker. They got lights here -- there's night
boarding."

"No shit? Rock on."

"Uh-huh. After naps and food." And maybe more naked touching.

"Cha."

As he gave in to sleep, Dawg couldn't help thinking they should add a couple more days to their
vacation.

Spring in His Heart
By Chris Owen

Simon went out the back door of the Lodge, down by the kitchen, and around the edge of the
building to the parking lot. He had no real expectation that Ridge would be there, but he always
looked for the Jeep anyway, just in case. This time he was lucky and not only was the Jeep there,
down at the far corner next to the pathway, but Ridge was there, too, waiting for him.

"Hey, you." Simon collected a kiss and threw himself into the front of Jeep, rubbing his hands to
warm them. "Spring's coming up, but it sure doesn't feel like it with this wind."

"It's a bit raw, yeah." Ridge piled in and cranked the heat on. "How was your day?"

"Good. Nice clients, since most of them were staff, nothing more complicated than massage after
massage. My arms are tired and my back could use a rub." Simon did up his seatbelt and propped
one foot up on the dash as they pulled out of the parking lot. "Had a lot of time to think, in other
words. How was your day?"

Ridge shrugged and put one big hand on Simon's thigh. "All right. The trails are a mess -- muddy
and slick, can't walk them easily yet. I'm hoping this wind dries things out a bit. I might just take
the next couple of weeks off, really. There's not really a draw for hikes out there until things are...
Well, prettier."

Simon nodded. They were pretty much off-peak time and while there were people staying at the
lodge, things were certainly quiet. "Do you want to take a vacation? Like, go somewhere for a few
days? Or were you thinking more about work around the house and yard?"

"Depends on if you can take time off, too." Ridge gave him a sideways grin and a long, warm look.
"I'd like to see you get a little less pale. Maybe lay you out on a beach in California."

"I burn." Simon wasn't trying to put him off, merely stating a fact. "We could do some camping, if
you want. That could be fun."

"I like the way you think." The hand on Simon's thigh rubbed a bit. "Stay the night?"

Simon looked over and smiled. "You bet. Grill for supper?"

Ridge nodded and there it was, a plan. Nice and easy, just the way they both liked it. When they got
to Ridge's house they fed the dogs together and Simon threw sticks for them until he got bored,
then he went inside to wash up. "Did you see the news at noon?" he asked from the kitchen sink,
his hands wrapped in a tea towel.

"Nope." Ridge was seasoning steak and checking on the potatoes in the oven. "What happened?"

"Well, nothing." Simon laughed when Ridge gave him an exasperated look. "Davey Teller was on,
looking as hot as ever. They said his name a lot."

"They always say Davey's name." Ridge smirked. "It's a fun name to say."

"Want to know what else is a fun name to say? Jaxon Charles. Which they did. Twice."

Ridge's eyebrows shot up. "They named his bodyguard in a news story? Was Davey shot or stalked
or something?"

"Nope." Simon beamed at him and wiggled his ass. "They just seemed too, too delighted to talk
about Mr. Teller's 'chief of security and companion'. Neat, huh?"

Ridge's worried look turned a lot more amused. "Well, well. Jax's balls dropped and he told Davey
what was what. Good for him."

"Hey." Simon gave Ridge a look that warned of a long night alone. "Let's give some credit where
it's due, huh? And can we agree that Davey was playing his game, too?"

"Sure." Ridge joined him at the sink and washed his hands. "Same game you play all the time."

Simon sputtered and Ridge laughed.

"How do you think I knew what was going on, Simon?" Ridge backed him up against the counter,
looming like a big, hulking, rugged, incredibly hot know it all jerk. "And how I spotted Jax for
what he was? Tell me you didn't have a hell of a good time with him and setting him on Davey's
tail. Tell me."

Simon looked up at Ridge's eyes but couldn't do it. He just couldn't lie to Ridge, not even about
something so silly as if the sex was good or not. He could, however, feel himself getting hard.

So could Ridge, if the way his nostrils flared meant anything. "Go to the bedroom," Ridge said in a
low voice, confirming where things were headed. "And undress. Lie down on the bed, legs spread
for me."

"Before dinner?" Simon said, thinking some kind of token protest was called for.

"Before dinner. Oh, and turn on the warming pot. It's time to play with wax, I think."

Simon shivered and gripped the edge of the counter for a moment. "Okay." God, he was so easy.

Ridge beamed at him and stepped back. "I'll be there in a few minutes. I'm going to get the dogs
settled and put the food where they can't get it. And I want the wax nice and warm before I go in."

Simon nodded. Ridge could get impatient and it was just better for them both if the wax was at the
right temperature before they started Simon's grooming.

Ridge turned his attention back to the food and Simon went to Ridge's bedroom, essentially the
back half of the house. He had a lot of wooden shelves and bookcases back there, his television and
a big easy chair, and on a microwave cart he had a professional waxing set up. One of the neat
things about working at the Lodge was that they were both good friends with a lot of the staff and
they'd been able to get salon wholesale prices on some equipment. Simon bought his wax at the day
spa, and Ridge... Ridge controlled the process.

To the point where he'd spent weeks getting lessons after hours at the spa, just for this. He wasn't
actually trained, but he knew what he was doing and Simon trusted him. In fact, Simon was pretty
sure that he'd never let anyone wax him again, if only because he'd become so conditioned to what
Ridge did to him that he got hard even looking at the supplies at the Lodge. He'd had to move his
massage table to a room that was never used for waxing, or risk offending a client with his hard on.

The wax checked and warming, Simon stripped off his clothes and got out the plain white sheet
they used on Ridge's bed for both waxing and massage; they'd been death on sheets before they'd
decided that yes, they were a couple even if they were wide open, and Ridge had started keeping
things around just for them.

Sheet on the bed, pillows moved, lube and rubbers ready and where Ridge could get them, Simon
was supposed to get on the bed and wait. He was about to do it, too, when it suddenly struck him
how routine the process was. He was excited, he was hot for it and horny, but the flutter in his belly
was missing, the worry that he was doing something not precisely the way Ridge wanted it. He
knew what Ridge wanted, he knew he was doing it right. But that was good. Wasn't it?

"Hey." Ridge had come in while Simon was contemplating the odd shift in his though process. "Is
everything all right?"

Simon nodded, looking at the bed. The white sheet made it look clinical and clean. "Yeah.
Everything's perfect."

"Mmm." Ridge came up behind him and put his hands on Simon's hips. "Perfect." He said it like he
was tasting the word, scenting out whatever was preying on Simon's mood. After a moment, just as
Simon started to pull away, to climb on the bed like he was supposed to, Ridge dug his fingers in,
keeping Simon exactly where he was. "Do you know why tracking is fun?" Ridge murmured
thoughtfully.

"Because it's outside and you hate walls?"

"Because it's a challenge brought on by unpredictability. It's never the same twice, and I never
know where I'm going to be headed. Sometimes there's a general indication, but the specifics are a
mystery."

Simon nodded slowly, his breathing picking up again. "Unpredictable is exciting."

"Right." Ridge kissed one of Simon's shoulders and his hand slipped around to cup Simon's balls. "I
need to think about this for a moment or three, and you actually do need waxing. Onto the bed,
okay? I'll take care of this and ponder the unpredictability of our natures."

The flutters came back with a vengeance and Simon nodded. "Sure."

"Face up. We'll tend to business." Ridge let him go and went to draw the cart with the waxing
supplies close to the bed.

Simon lay down and studied the ceiling while Ridge methodically and efficiently set about
removing unwanted body hair. He was quick and careful, even humming a little as he spread wax,
pressed strips and whisked them off again. He used hard wax on Simon's balls, his fingers quick
and gentle, and if Simon hadn't been so conditioned to respond to waxing in a sexual way it might
have all been very clinical and not unlike a treatment at the spa.

But it was Ridge, and it was hot wax, and by the time Simon was told to roll over so Ridge could
finish, he was achingly hard. Ridge hadn't once teased or played, hadn't licked or kissed or sucked,
and Simon's balls were hot and smooth, his perineum slippery with soothing oil.

"Bend your leg," Ridge coaxed, and Simon did, grinding his erection against the sheet like it was
only incidental. "You're shaking," Ridge told him, his voice amused.

"I'm gonna go insane," Simon said over his shoulder. "Something's gotta give."

Ridge laughed softly and swirled melted wax onto a wooden spatula not unlike a doctor's tongue
depressor. "Go ahead. I can wait."

Simon shook his head, gritted his teeth, and put his face on the bed. Nice, cool sheets. He made
himself breathe through his nose. Ridge was thinking and planning. He could wait. "I'm fine."

"Uh-huh." Ridge laughed again, but went back to waxing him, spreading the warm, soft wax
between Simon's ass cheeks.

"Oh, God." Simon moaned, unable to keep it inside. This was his very favorite part. The wax was
like a lover's tongue, so warm and gentle, heating him right through to his bones and making his
face flush with how intensely erotic the procedure had become to him. He would never, ever, be
able to get waxed at a professional place again. Ridge had ruined him.

The wax set, the bed moving as Ridge stopped kneeling over him. "Easy," Ridge said when Simon
lifted his head to look. "I'm here."

Simon nodded, holding himself together, trying not to anticipate. He closed his eyes and found that
easier, sighed when Ridge came back and picked at the edge of the wax. This part he knew, this
part couldn't happen any way other than what it was. He loved it.

The wax lift, pulled, tugged and stung a tiny bit, not nearly as bad as one would assume. Simon
gasped, his body surging with both the physical effects of the wax lifting and with all of his own
perceptions and baggage. He nearly came, his body delighted by the press of Ridge's bare thighs
against his own.

"Shh."

Simon nodded, his eyes still closed, his body shifting in small rolls and twitches. "I'm good."

"You're very good." Ridge's fingers touched and checked his work and for a few minutes there was
more wax, more strips, more clinical clean up to get the last, stay hairs. Then oil and washing and
gentle touches to sooth the skin, and Simon was laid bare and open, his skin smooth and slightly
tender.

The unexpected touch of Ridge's tongue gliding over his perineum and over his hole made Simon
yell, his hands scrabbling for something to clutch. "Ridge!"

Ridge licked him again and ran his tongue all over, rasping over Simon's hole again and again until
Simon was pushing back, moaning over and over, needing so badly for Ridge to fuck him, to touch
him, to suck or stroke him. Anything. Anything at all.

"Anything?" Ridge kissed his way up Simon's ass and then up his spine, bump by bump.
"Anything, Simon?"

Simon nodded, spreading his legs wide and trying to angle to his hips to get Ridge's cock inside.
"Uh-huh."

"Tell me."

"Please," Simon said immediately. "Please, Ridge. Fuck me. I want you cock in me. Please, I need
you."

"No. Not that." Ridge rested his chin on Simon's shoulder. "Tell me what you really want. What
you think about when you're jerking off. What you really, really need when I'm inside you and you
get that desperate look in your eyes. The look that never quite goes away."

Simon gasped again, his eyes flying open. "What?"

Ridge got off him, flipped him over. "The look," he said, as he pushed Simon's legs apart again and
settled between them, "that begs me for something I've never managed to give you." He sat up and
reached for the rubbers and lube. "Close your eyes."

His face flaming, his heart pounding wildly, Simon slammed his eyes shut as if they were a door.
"There's nothing--"

"Don't lie." Slick fingers invaded him, Ridge using both of his hands; one pressing into his ass,
spreading him wide, and other curling over his bare balls and stroking his cock. "Tell me what you
want."

Simon swallowed. "I. I don't. I can't."

"You can." Ridge was sure, he sounded sure. He sounded calm and lovely and strong and so sure
that he could do what Simon wanted.

"But I don't know what it is," Simon whispered. "I don't." Ridge's fingers crooked inside him and
Simon cried out, his cock leaping in Ridge's hand. "Oh, God, there. Over and over and over."

"Uh-huh." Ridge did it again, then pulled out his fingers, his prick sliding in before Simon could
complain. "And then what?" He was utterly still, and Simon couldn't do anything but whimper.
"Simon." Ridge's hands moved, lifting Simon's legs and draping them over Ridge's shoulders.

Ankles in the air, ass high, slut pose. Simon shuddered. "Yes," he whispered. "Like this. Hit the
spot over and over and over. I want the bottoms of my feet to tingle, I want to find that place where
everything's built up so high, so high I can't think. When my cock is hot and my balls are sore and I
can't feel anything but the oncoming rush of coming -- I want that."

Ridge moved. He fucked Simon's ass like there wasn't anything ever in his life that was more
important. He hit the spot, he battered it, he stroked Simon's cock with a wet and sticky fist until
Simon had to arch and yell, his body too tense to stay still, too close to coming to make any sense
at all of words or emotions.

"Then what?" Ridge demanded. His voice was hard, firm, and Simon had to look.

He opened his eyes and stared up at Ridge's face, his fierce and strong and wild face, so fucking
determined to find the traps Simon had laid for him. "I don't know."

"You do!" Ridge growled and pushed in deep, his hand toying with Simon's cock and pulling him
even closer to orgasm. "You do know. What do you want?"

Pain. Simon knew and he was ashamed and he looked away, but not soon enough.

"Simon," Ridge barked. "Tell me what you need?"

"Don't hit me," Simon whispered. "Not that. I want.... Sharp. Short. Not, not, not... Not damaging. I
just need something. Intense." He was losing it, sliding away, his erection fading, orgasm
retreating.

Ridge nodded. His face cleared, the wildness vanishing and a smile playing over his mouth. "My
Simon." He sounded almost tender. Then he pulled out, flipped Simon again and plowed into him
with a hard thrust.

Simon swore, his world tilting as he tried to get his knees under him, his hands braced, but it was
too late. He was impaled on Ridge's cock and he was being fucked hard and deep and Ridge was
laughing softly in his ear. "Don't laugh at me." He couldn't bare it.

"I love the way you taste," Ridge told him, apparently ignoring the request. Both requests. "I love
the way your skin tastes, I like your come, I adore eating your ass. I want to feast on you."

Well. That wasn't bad. Simon held himself steady, trying to listen to the words through the sound of
blood rushing around his body and making his ears ring.

Ridge kept fucking him, kept playing with him, and Simon's feet began to tingle again. He dropped
down, shoulders to the mattress, and Ridge doubled his efforts until they were both gasping and
panting again. Simon squeezed his ass hard around Ridge's cock and they both swore. It was the
last conscious effort Simon made in their fucking.

His ass was on fire, aching. The lube hadn't held up and his hole was stretched, the condom
rubbing. Simon was dismayed that the little jolts of pain were making everything that much better,
making his balls lift and pull, making his cock so hard he was beginning to think it was a waste of
an erection not to fuck Ridge with it.

"Now?" Ridge demanded.

Simon nodded, his whole being there on the very edge of a very tall cliff.

When Ridge lifted him up, sat back with Simon on his lap, Ridge's cock so deep that Simon though
maybe he should be able to taste it, Ridge twisted Simon's nipples, hard, and bit his shoulder.

Simon thought the words PAIN OH GOD OW, felt his orgasm being ripped from his body, and
passed out.

***

When Simon came back from the gray and fuzzy place, his entire body was aching. He was
covered in come and Ridge, and both of them were panting and whimpering. His ass hurt. His balls
hurt. His lungs hurt. He didn't even want to think about his chest.

And he was being held so gently it made him want to cry from the sheer joy of it all.

He licked his lips and tried to speak, failed and then tried again. "Thank you."

Ridge stirred slightly. "Put that on the do again list."

"Uh-huh." Simon knew it wouldn't be just like that again. But that was okay. "Unpredictable."

"You are." Ridge's voice carried a smile. "I love you, you know."

Simon nodded slowly. He had known, even though he hadn't allowed himself to think about it.
"Think we should tell Davey and Jax?"

"Nah." Ridge kissed Simon behind his ear. "They're not important."

"I love you, too." Simon knew that Ridge knew, but thought it might be nice to hear it.

"Yeah." Ridge stirred slightly, sliding out and away. "Supper?"

"When I can move."

"Good enough." Another kiss and Ridge got up off the bed.

Simon watched him as Ridge started cleaning up the wax supplies, and smiled. It was
unconventional, maybe, but was theirs and they were keeping it. Trust and love and grooming and
the big blue sky. It was all they needed and all Simon wanted. "Love you," he said again, trying it
out.

Ridge beamed at him and Simon needed. Perfect.

Reconnecting
By Julia Talbot

“The Blue Sky Lodge, huh?” Evan read the online brochure, wondering if Alan had lost his mind.
“I’m not much of an outdoorsman, babe.”

“I know that. I am, though.” Alan snorted a little, and Evan could just picture his wry grin. Sucked
that he had to picture it and not see it in person, but Alan would be on assignment for at least
another two weeks.

“So, how is that supposed to help me?” They’d been tossing around the idea of a vacation, and the
mountains would be nice and cool at this time of year, and not as crowded as the beach.

“They have a spa, babe. Cooking classes. All sorts of shit that’s right up your alley.”

“I thought the idea was for us to do something together,”

“It is.” Alan sighed. “I just thought we’d find a happy medium. You like luxury, I like roughing
it...”

“So, this is your idea of compromise?” That made it better, maybe. The rooms did look pretty
deluxe.

“It is. Hell, babe, I figure we’ll need a couple of hours apart every day.”

“Uh-huh.” He’d sound like a clingy bitch if he didn’t agree, but what irked Evan the most was that
Alan was right. They had varied enough interests that if they went on a vacation that only one of
them chose, they ended up snarling and snapping at each other.

“So, what do you think?”

“I’ll look at the site. Maybe see what kind of shopping there is around.” He was always on the
lookout for regional art to put in his shop when they went away together.

“Okay, babe. I miss you.”

Evan sat back from his computer, closing his eyes so he could really focus on Alan’s voice. “I miss
you, too, babe. A lot. Want you to come home.”

“Me, too.”

God, he’d bet. Alan had been in the swamps of Louisiana for three weeks, working on some oil
survey thing, testing water quality blah-blah. It sounded like hell. Huge bugs, swamp animals, and
no air conditioning. Jesus.

“So, when do I need to let you know about the lodge thing?”

“If you like it, just let me know before I come home, and I’ll book it.”

“Okay.” He rolled his head on his neck. “I guess I’ll see you soon, babe.”

“You will. Love you, babe.”

“Love you, too.”

Alan hung up first. He always did, wanting to preserve his cell battery. It made it easier for Evan,
who always hated to let go.

He opened his eyes again and clicked on the spa section of the Lodge website. Maybe he could
actually convince Alan to relax enough to get a couples massage with him. That would rock.
Maybe be hot.

They could use a little heat. Sometimes they just spent too damned much time apart. He would hate
to go on vacation just to have more of the same.

***

The Blue Sky Lodge had a fantastic view of the mountains, a ski lift that worked in the summer for
picture taking tourists, and private hot tubs. Alan thought it was paradise after spending all his
recent weeks in the swamp.

He wasn’t sure Evan felt the same way. His lover was looking a little wild-eyed. “It’s a little more
out of the way than I thought, babe.”

“Yeah?” He’d let Evan have plenty of time to research, so Alan had assumed that there was plenty
of town nearby. Galleries and shit.

“Uh-huh. It’s pretty, though.”

Alan rewarded that with a smile and a hand squeeze as they made their way into the lobby. They
could to this, right? It shouldn’t seem so weird to be spending time together, but it had been awhile
since he and Evan really had. Weird.

They checked in, got their bags taken care of, and then decided to explore.

“Is this okay, babe?” Evan asked, hand reaching for his. It was a queer friendly place, right? They
could hold hands of they wanted to.

“Yeah, it’s good.” He took Evan’s hand and squeezed. “Look at that tasting menu.” The place had a
bar or two, a casual restaurant and a fancy one. He knew they’d have to do the fancy at least once
for Evan.

Alan would be happy with a burger. So would Evan, really, but the man did like his wine pairings.

They wandered down halls and peered in the gift shop and all before looking at the spa menu, too.
By the time they got back to their room, Evan seemed to have relaxed some. “I like the look of the
spa. Do you want to try a couples massage?”

Ack. That might be too strange. Still, it wasn’t a lot to ask, was it? “Sure. I mean, we’ll see what
they have.”

“Cool.” Evan turned to him spontaneously and gave him a kiss, hands sliding up around Alan’s
neck. Oh, hello. Yes. That felt really good. Really, really.

Alan slid his hands down to grab Evan’s ass, pulling them closer together. They’d barely touched
since he’d gotten home from Louisiana. It’d been painful, actually. So this? This was good. Right.
Hooray.

Evan moaned for him a little, humping against his hip. He could feel how hard his lover was, and it
made him grunt and try walking them back toward the little bedroom.

That failed spectacularly, with him and Evan ending up in a heap on the floor, the sound when they
hit loud enough that Alan figured they were gonna scare the neighbors. Christ.

“You okay, baby?” Evan asked, breathless and laughing.

“I am. Are you?” Shit, Evan’s lip was bleeding a little. They must have hit teeth when they fell. He
wiped off the bright drop off with his thumb.

“Yeah. Maybe we need to hit the shower, though.”

“That’d be good.” That would maybe get rid of the ache that was gonna be the inevitable result of
their fall. Because ow.

They climbed to their feet, Evan helping him up. He kissed Evan’s cheek, and they headed in to
wash up.

Alan figured they’d had a promising beginning. The rest could wait. They were there for a week.

***

Evan woke up feeling like someone had run him over with a truck.

Damn. To think he’d been feeling frisky the night before. Now, not so much. All of the traveling
had caught up with him, and combined with the fall last night, he was stiff as a board. He tried to
get up to go to the potty, but he just groaned and fell back against the pillows. At least the bed was
comfortable.

“Evan?” Sleepy, a little querulous, Alan reached for him, hands warm on his skin. Maybe a little
too heavy on his bruises.

“Ow, babe.”

“Ow?” Alan blinked awake, staring at him. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m a little bruised, babe.” He stretched a tiny bit, everything protesting when he did.

“Oh. Sorry.” Alan chuckled. “I remember once upon a time you didn’t mind that.”

Evan laughed, pinching Alan’s thigh. “That was when I earned it the good way.”

“Yeah, I guess so. We could hit the hot tub.”

“Oh, that’s a good idea. Should I call for room service?”

“Hell, yes.” Alan kissed him before rolling out of bed to go to the bathroom. “Call the spa, too. Get
us that massage.”

“Really?” Evan pondered how embarrassed he might be to have to explain bruises on his butt, but
then he decided that he was on vacation. He didn’t have to explain anything.

“Yeah!” He heard the toilet flush, water running. “Yeah, go ahead. It will start us off right.”

Wow. How cool was that? Evan called the spa first, getting them an appointment for like, one in
the afternoon. That gave them plenty of time to do hot tubs and food and maybe a reward for good
behavior before they got their massage.

“Would you like the hot rock or the deep tissue?” the lady asked, sounding very professional.

“I’d like the hot rock. Deep tissue for my partner.”

“Very good, sir. Shall I charge it to your room?”

“Sure. Can you transfer me to room service?”

“Of course. Have a good day, sir.”

It was a little decadent, ordering waffles and eggs and coffee to eat out next to the hot tub. That
made him smile. He’d have to find shopping before too long, he knew himself well enough to know
that. But things with Alan were going better than he’d expected, and he was going to get his
massage.

Life was really pretty good, bruises and all.

***

Alan grinned and licked cream off his upper lip. God, he loved chocolate cream pie.

They'd had dessert with breakfast, which was too cool. He loved his chocolate. "This is almost as
good as campfire pancakes, babe."

"Oh, that's a very fine recommendation." Evan smiled for him, stretching. "We have time for a hot
tub before the massage."

"Or we could do the hot tub after and do something else now." He rolled toward Evan, feeling
pretty damned romantic. He started to rise up on one elbow, which was when he slipped, his arm
landing in one of the metal plate covers that came on top of room service plates.

Alan yelped, his arm flying out from under him, his head landing on the tray that still sat between
them on the bed. His face slammed into one of the heavy plates that held scraps of bacon and sprigs
of parsley.

Pain bloomed at the side of his face, his eye going watery and blank. He didn't even have the
chance to cuss a little.

"Alan! Oh, my God, are you okay?" Evan moved fast, slapping the tray off the bed and grabbing
Alan's shoulders to pull him upright.

"I thing I rang my bell a little."

"Shit. You're getting a shiner already." Evan scrambled away, and ice rattled in the ice bucket. A
freezing cold washcloth was pressed to his face.

"Fuck." God, that was cold. He sucked in a breath, trying to keep his shit together. That stung like a
mother.

"Sorry, baby. Need to get the swelling down, though. Should I call down and see if they have a med
place in the spa?"

"No. No, it's just gonna be a black eye. God." He felt like such a fool. Maybe he and Evan were just
cursed never to have sex again. That would suck, but it sure was starting to feel like it.

"Oh, Alan. I'm sorry." Evan stroked his shoulder, fingers on the hand not holding the ice warm and
good.

"Why, babe? You didn't do it."

"I know. I just know you wanted this to be a perfect vacation and I fell on my ass and now you
have a black eye and…"

"Stop." He glared at Evan out of his good eye. "We're still on vacation. Let's grab a shower and hit
the hot tubs."

They'd have their massage and whatever, maybe run into the little ski town that was like, five miles
down the way. They had shops and stuff, and Evan could do his art shopping. After the beating
they'd been taking, Alan didn't think he'd want to do a whole lot of outdoorsing. Hiking might be a
bit much with the altitude.

"Sure. Shower sounds good." Evan helped him off the bed, both of them tiptoeing over the plates
and table wear on the floor. The day had to get better, right?

***

"Here, babe. Sit down. I'll get the stuff they gave us to rub into your back." Alan eased Evan down
on the bed, and Evan couldn't help but moan.

Alan winced. "I'm sorry."

"Why? Who knew that I had a trick rib?" The hot rock massage had turned out to be a bad idea. A
really bad idea. It wasn't the masseur's fault, really. It was an old injury that Evan had never even
thought a massage would affect.

Now he knew better.

"That accident just keeps haunting you." Alan brought him a beer and a hot washcloth and helped
him pull his shirt off.

"So does the massage. I'm greasy."

"Do you want a bath? We have the whirlpool thing."

"That would be great, baby."

"Cool."

Poor Alan. He looked so beat up, with that big black eye, and he was so worried. Their vacation
was hardly going according to plan.

Evan sipped the beer, holding himself really still. If he could just not move too much, his rib didn't
slip out of place. Oh, the therapist had put it back. More than once. It just wouldn't stay.

Alan came back, grabbing the hot wash cloth and holding it to Evan's rib. "Bubbles are on their
way. Do you need anything?"

"Just for you to calm down, baby."

"Well, I was going to take you shopping today."

"We'll live without it today, baby." They could go the next day. When no one was as sore. Evan
knew from experience that when he relaxed enough to sleep his rib would slide back. Tomorrow
they could start over.

"I just... Do you want me to order some food?"

"Yeah. Yeah, let's order that tapas thing from the fancy place." That way they didn't actually have
to go to the posh restaurant and eat.

Alan raised a brow. "I thought you would want to go there. Like do the wine pairings."

"Sitting on those hard chairs might kill me. The fact that you were willing to do it makes me happy,
though."

"Does it?" Alan grinned, handing him the menu. "You mark what you want and I'll order."

"'Kay." That was sweet. His rugged geologist hated talking on the phone. Evan marked up a bunch
of little plates and picked a Spanish red that would go well with all of them. To throw Alan a bone,
he ordered a couple of different desserts, too. His man had a sweet tooth.

"You want some coffee, too?" They had started out with some that morning and both decided it was
damned good.

Evan nodded. "Sure. Sounds wonderful."

Alan ordered, then took him to the whirlpool, which was really like a private hot tub. It was
actually really nice. When he slid in, he hummed, his body slowly unclenching. The water was
even great on his bruises.

"Better, babe?"

"Yeah. Yeah. Come on in."

Alan slid in next to him, the lean, hard body propping him up, and it felt so good to touch, to
reconnect.

"This was just what we needed, baby." He leaned, luxuriating in the closeness.

Alan chuckled. "Getting beat down for two days? You have a weird idea of fun."

"Maybe. But we've spent two days together without wandering off, without needing time apart.
We've been touching. Talking."

"Huh." Alan grunted, sounding surprised. "You have a point. So this was still a good idea?"

Evan nodded, surprising himself, too. "It was, baby. I still have high hopes for having sex
someday."

They looked at each other, both of them laughing and speaking in concert. "Maybe tomorrow."

Crossroads
By Chris Owen

"Seriously, if we went camping we could stay a lot longer. This place is expensive. How many
photos can you even take in three days? Two weeks in a pop-up trailer and you'd have a real
vacation. Last chance to change your mind..."

Ricky didn't even roll his eyes this time. He'd given that up about a month back. If there was one
lesson he'd learned through all of this, it was not to let Mike in on the vacation plans until they were
packing to leave.

Mike sighed and apparently gave it up. Given that they were in the parking lot of the Blue Sky
Lodge, it was likely for the best; a good killing would ruin the vacation for both of them, and even
if it didn't end in actual murder, there were worse things than spending time in jail for a big old fist
fight. Right at the top of that list was spending the next two weeks sleeping on the couch, although
it remained to be seen who would be the one on the couch.

They shouldered their bags and made their way around to the front entrance. Ricky watched as a
valet took somebody else's car around the way they'd come from and realized he'd already pulled a
boner. They should have just driven up like they owned the place, evidently. Mike didn't say a
word, though, so maybe that was all right.

They went inside and got all checked in by a pretty girl at the front desk and even made it to their
room without any more idiocy from either of them. Of course, they also didn't say much to each
other, and that wasn't really in line with the romantic vacation ideal.

"Nice room," Mike said, looking around. "Holy cow, look at the size of that window." He crossed
the room and pulled the sheers open. "Ricky. That's a hell of a lot of blue sky."

Ricky bounced on the bed. "Maybe they can work that into the name of the place." He grinned at
Mike when all he got was a snort and a swat for his efforts. "What should we do first? Hike?
Swim? Have a drink or something to eat?"

Mike looked out the window. "We probably shouldn't waste any of it, since we're paying to see it.
Grab your cameras and let's go."

Ricky pointed to his duffle bag, on the bed, and then to Mike's duffle, on the floor. "That's all we
brought, honey. Do you see my gear here?"

For a moment Mike looked horrified, like they'd put the cameras and shit on the top of the car and
driven five hundred miles before remembering they'd left them at home. Then he looked confused.
"Why didn't you bring them?" he finally asked. "How are you going to take pictures without your
cameras? You didn't bring any of them?"

"Not even a cheap-ass point and shoot." Ricky stood up and moved to the window. He looked at the
view and rocked back on his heels, pleased with himself. "This isn't about photography, Mike. It's

about a vacation. You and me and being somewhere pretty. Some place with good food and a hot
springs and hiking. Oh, and massages." He nodded.

Mike's eyes narrowed and his big shoulders seem to square up. "You dragged me up a mountain so
you can sit around and relax?" It had been a while since Mike had inflated like that at Ricky, but
longer still since it had been intimidating.

"Hell, yes. And so you can, too. You need it, man. Look at you -- when the idea of a vacation is
making you mad it's time to chill the fuck out. You didn't even look around and see how nice the
lobby is. Trust me, if the lobby is that flashy, the rest of the place is going to be gorgeous."

Mike turned on his heel, went to the bathroom and locked the door.

Ricky stared after him for a long moment. He knew what that meant -- no way was he going to
move the big idiot. Mike was settling in for a long sulk. With a deep sigh Ricky opened his duffle,
took out the ring box he'd hidden at the bottom and put it in his pocket. "I'm going to explore," he
called. "Just so you know. Don't stay in there all damn night."

He made sure to close the door quietly behind himself and went to find the bar.

***

It was almost four hours later when a shadow crossed his face and a hand covered his glass. "No
more for you," Mike said.

Ricky protested but Mike was talking quietly to the bartender and signing the bill, and neither one
of them paid Ricky a single bit of attention. The guy he'd been talking to melted away into the
atmosphere and Ricky found himself being urged to his feet by Mike's hand on one of his elbows.

"Stop manhandling me, you big ass. I'm perfectly capable of walking, and more to the point I'm
capable of deciding if I even want to. And I don't. So you just screw off and go be grumpy
somewhere where I ain't." There. That's exactly what he was supposed to say.

Unfortunately, what came out was a slurred mess and Mike was still managing to steer him out of
the bar, and right on out through the lobby to the outdoors where the sun was gone and evening had
settled in.

"Where are we going?" That, at least, came out right.

"Just to the car. And back. And to the car again. You need to walk this off a little."

"You need to walk, too. Right off a short pier."

Mike snorted and upped the pace of their march. "God, you're a pushy idiot."

"You're the one fucking up a vacation by being an ungrateful bastard." Ricky stopped walking long
enough to be jerked forward and into motion once more. "God damn you."

"You said you wanted to come and take pictures. You lied to me." Mike's voice was low and slow.

"No, I said I wanted to come here and enjoy the scenery and relax. If you decided that meant 'take
pictures' that's your fucking problem. Most people would jump at the chance to have a long
weekend here. You're not even fucking paying for it; I am. It was a God damn gift, you ass, and one
I'm sorry I gave you. I had hoped that spending time with me instead of me being busy with the
camera would be a bonus, but no. You locked yourself in the fucking bathroom like a brat."

Mike had the decency to look ashamed of himself. "I was mad. You led me to believe something
and it wasn't true."

Ricky reached his limit. "I did not, and fuck you." He swung wildly, trying to land a punch on the
side of Mike's head, but he wasn't exactly in fighting shape.

"Hey!" Mike caught his wrist and held his arm tight. "What's with you, anyway? I know I was
maybe a little difficult, but this reaction is over the top. Getting drunk, hitting?" He sounded baffled
and, damn him, worried.

"You acted like a spoiled child and a selfish jerk," Ricky accused.

Mike apparently didn't think he had grounds to argue the point, but he grimly got Ricky walking
again.

Ricky went on. "You know what? I thought this was going to be a good thing for us. Something
really special. But all I know now is that you don't want to be here and you don't want to be here
with me, so you might as well go home. I don't care. Look, there's the car. You just leave then, why
don't you? I'll stay here for my three days and take a bus back. Go on, get."

"You don't mean that," Mike said with a sigh. "You're drunk."

"I'm drunk and pissed and I do mean it. I thought we'd hit that point where it was either get married
or move on and I guess I went the wrong way. Go home, Mike. Lock yourself in the fucking
bathroom. God." Ricky was struck by the sudden urge to hit Mike again, so he turned his head and
spit instead.

The silence stretched out long enough for even Ricky to notice it, and when he looked at Mike, he
almost started to sober up. Mike was looking at him with wide eyes, and his lips were slightly
parted like his jaw had dropped and he hadn't quite managed to close his mouth again.

Ricky glared at him. "What?"

"You said something about married." Mike blinked twice, really fast. "Is that what this trip was
about?"

Ricky started to say "Hell, no!" at him but stopped himself from outright lying. "What if it was?
Said I went wrong, didn't I?"

Mike let him go and Ricky didn't fall down. "Married. Huh." Mike started pacing, back and forth in
front of a jeep, a big shiny SUV and their little car. His entire mood had shifted in an instant and
that made Ricky nervous.

Ricky watched Mike for a moment or two, standing silently and mentally cursing himself for
running off at the mouth, then decided that the bar was a better place to be. He didn't get very far,
however.

"Rick." Both hands this time, on Ricky's elbows. "Ricky, look at me."

Ricky was turned around and he looked at Mike, the well-loved face too close to really focus his
eyes on. "Drop it, Mike." Ricky was suddenly tired, fed up with the whole damn mess, their whole
damn lives. "Just let it go."

Mike kissed the tip of Ricky's nose. "Come on. Back to the room. We'll talk after you sober up."

Ricky let himself be led back up through the parking lot, around the front of the lodge and then
inside. No one seemed to pay them any mind as they went through to the elevator and he wondered
if drunken fights happened very often.

He doubted it.

With a sigh he leaned on the back wall of the elevator and didn't move until Mike pulled him out
and took him down the hall to their room. And then, from there, it was just a step through the door
and into the silent room. His duffle was still open on the bed, Mike's was still closed on the floor.

"What did you do for hours and hours?" He could feel the weight of the ring box in his pants pocket
and he wanted nothing more than to get rid of it without Mike seeing.

"I went for a hike. There's a real pretty hot spring you need to see tomorrow." Mike picked up his
bag and started unpacking. "Do you really want to get married?"

Ricky shrugged one shoulder. "I thought so." He sat on the edge of the bed and watched Mike
putting his stack of T-shirts in a drawer. "But not if a weekend at a resort with me has you acting
like a ten year old."

Mike nodded and opened another drawer. "Yeah. I think... I don't want to break up. I don't think it's
an either/or situation. Is it?"

Again, Ricky shrugged. "I guess not. I don't want to split up, either. But the stasis isn't good."

"We're in a rut." Mike nodded and took his shaving kit to the bathroom. "Ruts happen," he said
when he came back out. "But we can find a way out of it if we work together, right?" Mike picked
up Ricky's bag and started putting his clothes away.

"Working together would mean not hiding in the bathroom," Ricky pointed out.

"And not getting drunk in a hotel bar."

Ricky nodded. "You didn't even come looking for me."

"True." Mike put the rest of Ricky's things away and tossed both duffle bags in the closet. "Are you
getting sober?"

"Slowly. No headache yet."

"Gonna throw up?"

Ricky thought about it and decided that no, he was okay. "Not if I eat." He stood up. "Let me take a
shower."

"Sure." Mike picked up the stack of lodge information on the dresser. "I'll take a look at the
menus."

In the bathroom, Ricky slipped the ring box into his shaving kit and buried it under assorted crap.
He'd deal with it properly when he had the chance, later. He brushed his teeth and stripped off his
clothes, leaving them in a heap on the floor without bothering to fold anything, then stepped into
the shower.

He'd rinsed his body and scrubbed his hair clean when a breeze told him the bathroom door had
opened. "Almost done."

"No rush." He heard Mike's belt being undone and then fabric hitting the tile with a thump and
rustle. "How's the water pressure?"

Ricky rolled his shoulders. "Perfect. Like everything else here."

Mike joined him, his hands resting on Ricky's hips to shift him to the side so they could share the
spray. "Good enough."

"Want me to step out?"

"Nope." Mike held him where he was. "I want you to stay. Right here. I want you stay with me.
Childish antics aside, I need you to know that I'm in this for real, Rick."

Ricky was glad that he was still sort of drunk, and even more glad that he was in the shower. No
one could tell shower water from anything else, or expect him not to blink water out of his eyes.
"Okay. I hear you."

Mike leaned forward and kissed him on the mouth. It was a gentle kiss, one of the most tentative
things Ricky had felt in years, like Mike was scared.

Ricky closed his eyes and leaned back. "Don't be scared," he whispered. "Not of me. Not ever."

Mike's mouth covered his again, harder. Like he meant it.

Ricky let him in, and when Mike's fingers curled tight on Ricky's hips, Ricky moaned softly. No
fear, no backing down. They knew how to communicate -- or had, once. They could get it back.

It took almost a minute for them to get to where they both seemed comfortable with just kissing,
but once they had that -- the feel of their mouths, the heat from water and breath -- they moved
faster. Hands wandered, first with curiosity and caution and then with intent. It would take more
than a fight to stop their bodies from reacting, and sometimes it was the fight that started things
going, anyway. All that energy and emotion needed an outlet.

With Mike's hand on him, Ricky started to feel safe. Safe that his legs wouldn't give out, and safe in
knowing that even if they did, Mike wouldn't let him fall. He gave himself over, thrusting into
Mike's fist and swearing when Mike's palm rubbed at the head of Ricky's cock. "Lower."

Mike laughed softly in Ricky's ear, but he lowered his hand and jacked Ricky off the way Ricky
liked. Tight at the base, looser at the top, and the pad of Mike's thumb rubbing just under the
crown. Ricky went up on his tip toes.

"Easy," Mike whispered. He kept stroking, one of his legs moving so he could straddle Ricky's
thigh. "God."

Ricky moaned again and clamped his hands on Mike's ass. They humped together, Mike mashing
his balls on Ricky's leg and Ricky's hips shoving hard. Ricky was moving faster, too fast for them
to shoot together, but it was a near thing.

With a gasp Ricky came, his prick throbbing, and he held Mike tight to him. A moment later Mike's
cock gave a jump and they both went still.

Hotels never lacked for hot water, but eventually, no matter how good the kisses, Ricky needed to
move. They didn't say much, but drying off was a shared experience, and getting dressed again only
took a few minutes.

Sober, finally, Ricky was unsurprised to find that he was starving.

"Come on, then." Mike offered him his hand and Ricky took it. "I hear they have good food in this
place."

"So I hear." Ricky looked down at himself. "Do I look okay for eating in the dining room?"

"Sure. You look great." Mike even seemed to mean it. He held Ricky's hand all the way down, and
until they were seated, and he asked Ricky about what he was going to order. He declined the wine
list with grace, and it wasn't until they got their appetizers that Ricky realized they were having a
dinner date.

Ricky thought about the ring box in the bathroom. Not now. They weren't there, and now he knew
it.

But maybe someday, if they worked together.

Vacation, Jarheads Style
By Sean Michael

Dick climbed out of the SUV they'd rented and did a slow three-sixty. It sure was pretty out here
with all the snow, especially with the way the sun was glinting off of it, making everything shine.

Rig was curled up in the back seat in Rock's lap, sound asleep. Rock wasn't, though. The big man
was grinning to beat the band. Rock loved to ski.

He still wasn't quite sure how they'd convinced Rig to take a week up here in the mountains where
it was cold and snowy. Maybe it had been the promise of a roaring fire and a hot tub with a view.
Maybe it was just that their cowboy loved them both to death and would even brave the fucking
snow for them.

"I'll get us checked in."

Rock nodded. "I'll bundle up the cowboy."

Dick just grinned. He swore Rig had bought the biggest, puffiest winter coat he'd ever seen. It had
needed its own suitcase; hell, it needed its own zip code.

He closed the door and headed for the inviting chalet. The cold cut out as soon as he was through
the doors, a roaring fire at the far end of the room seeming to cheer the whole place up.

A cute guy with a friendly smile was behind the front desk and Dick pulled out his wallet to find
his credit card. "Reservations for Richard Main."

A couple of clicks, then the guy nodded. "You're in the west suite. That's my favorite room."

"Yeah? How come?"

"Hot tub, sunsets of joy, and the smells from the oven come up in there -- cookies and bread and
cakes..."

"Oh, that sounds perfect." He grinned and passed over his credit card. "I hear the food's really good
here." Actually, he'd heard everything here was good, food, skiing, staff.

"It is. Food, lodging. The sports are a ball. Would you like some champagne or hot buttered rum
sent up as you get settled?"

"Can we have both?" If they didn't drink the champagne now, they could save it for later.

"Of course, sir." Rock and Rig came in, carrying suitcases, Rig blinking a little slowly.

Dick grinned at them, waved. "We're in the west suite -- best in the place."

"Good deal. Afternoon, sir. Pretty place here." Rig nodded at the desk clerk.

"Thank you, sir. Would you like someone to help you with your bags?" The man handed him three
keycards.

Rock snorted. "We're good, thanks."

Rig nodded, waved. "Upstairs, Marines."

Dick grabbed one of their bags from Rock and led the way the front desk clerk had indicated. The
place was warm and clean. He'd bet the room was awesome.

He got them up the stairs and the door open. The suite was stunning -- all windows and bed, along
with a big couch and a huge bathroom. Perfect. "Look at this!"

Rock chuckled. "Very nice."

Rig grinned, suitcase sliding into the closet. "You did good, Pretty."

He beamed. "Thank you! Do I get a reward?"

Rock chuckled. "Horn dog." Well, he wasn't going to argue with that -- it was the truth. He took a
quick kiss from Rock.

Rig settled on the sofa, leaned back, legs sprawled. Dick suggestion that they go hit the slopes to
wake up after their long flight died on his lips. Those jeans had to be illegal someplace. There was
the tiniest, teeniest hole up near Rig's balls, the denim going pale. Dick licked his lips and groaned.
It didn't take Rock long to zero in on what he was looking at.

"I'd say that's about the best thing I've seen all day."

"Uh-huh," Dick agreed.

Rig's head was thrown back, eyes closed. "Good view, y'all?"

"The best." Rock moved right in next to Rig, hands all over those tight jeans.

"Mountains?" Rig hummed, arching into Rock's big hands.

"Mountains, peaks, valleys." Rock slid his hands over Rig's cock and balls as he spoke.

Dick just grinned and admired the foreplay.

"Mmm..." The long, lean body looked so fucking hot, spread out, offered to Rock's huge hands.

The knock at the door made Dick jump about three feet off the ground and he laughed. "Shit, I'd
forgotten about the drinks."

Rig looked up, grinned. "Well, hop to it. We can use a drink. No one's driving."

Shaking his head, he went to the door and let room service in. The kid was about twelve -- man had
he ever been that young? -- and eager to point out the complimentary sweets that were also
included on the tray.

Champagne, mugs of hot buttered rum, chocolates, even little cookies. Score.

"Thanks, man. Do we have to sign anything?"

The kid handed over the little book. There was a spot for him to put in a tip amount and to sign it,
so he did, and closed the door as the kid bounced out.

"Champagne or hot buttered rum?"

"Hot buttered rum, please." Rig tugged his boots off, then came to help him.

Not one to miss an opportunity, he grabbed onto Rig's arms and tugged him into a kiss. Rig laughed
for him, tongue fucking his lips slow and lazy, but deep. He groaned into Rig's mouth, loving the
taste, the feeling of that tongue.

Rock moved up behind Rig, pushed him in closer. He felt Rig's full body shiver, felt that long body
start to rock, rub against him.

Fuck, he loved this. He loved how it didn't matter where they went, this stayed the same.

The heat started slowly, Rig almost dancing between them, not in any hurry at all. Rigger on
vacation was pure sex, pure happiness.

"We've got too many clothes on."

Rock started chuckling.

"It's cold out there, Pretty. There may be no nakedness this whole trip."

"It's warm in here, though!" No nakedness would be a very wrong thing.

Rig and Rock both cracked up, Rock's muscled arms supporting their cowboy.

He punched them both in the arm. "Let's have hot buttered rum and cookies and then maybe I can
talk you guys into getting naked."

Rig swept up a mug and a piece of chocolate, headed back for the sofa. Of course, Rock just
brought the whole tray. Laughing, Dick followed and grabbed a cookie as he stretched out on the
floor at their feet.

All in all, it was a pretty good start.

***

Whirlpool tubs were a magical thing. Rig leaned back into the water, let his feet float up. Rock was
napping and Dick, the energizer bunny, was out on the slopes, doing some moonlight skiing. He
was floating.

He heard the door to their suite open, Dick's voice floating out to him. "Man, it is cold out there!"

He chuckled. "You noticed. That white stuff falling out of the sky? Snow."

Dick came bounding in. "Really? Is that what that is?" He grinned, his cheeks red as anything.

"Mmmhmm. Awful stuff." He had had a couple three of those rum drinks, was happy as a pig in
shit. "Water's nice."

"Cool." Dick started stripping. Just as he was bending over to pull off his socks and the ends of his
longjohns, Rock came up behind him and goosed him.

Dick shrieked and thumped Rock on the arm, both of them laughing. Rig chuckled, added more hot
water. Climbing into the tub, his Marines joined him.

Rock groaned, arm going around his shoulders. "Fuck, this is the life."

"It so is. Good nap?" He draped his legs over Dick's lap.

"Yeah. Bed's quality. Nice and big, too."

Dick started rubbing his feet. "You should have come out with me for a run or two. The slopes are
amazing."

"They'll still be there in the morning."

Rig nodded. "I was having a soak, baking my bones."

"Thanks for coming with us to the cold." Dick smiled over at him, face still red from the cold. "The
skiing really is amazing."

"I'll give it a try tomorrow." Maybe.

"Yeah?" Dick's face lit up. "It'll be fun!"

"You think so, Pretty?" He'd humor the kid.

"I do. They've got instructors and everything, though I'd kind of like the job of being your
instructor." Dick waggled his eyebrows, leering.

Rock snorted. "You try and do any of that on the slopes and you'll get arrested, and freeze off
important parts at the same time."

"No freezing parts. I am absolutely opposed to parts freezing." In fact, he was pretty sure that cold
weather was something for Yankees and Eskimos.

"Don't worry," Rock reassured him. "You've got that coat for keeping things warm. I think all three
of us could fit in it with you."

He stuck his tongue out. He'd been good, damn it. He hadn't been bitching about the weather.
Laughing, Rock leaned in and grabbed his tongue between warm lips. Dick made a sweet noise, the
hands on his feet sliding up his legs.

He met Rock's eyes, the bright blue smiling at him, shining at him. Rock sucked his tongue for a
minute, and then turned it into a kiss. He hummed, melting into the water, fingers trailing down
Rock's belly. Dick's fingers were doing some trailing of their own, slowly working their way up his
legs.

Vacation sex fucking rocked.

No question.

No comment.

Rig floated closer, letting Rock settle them together. Rock's kisses became more intense, his Blue's
fat cock nudging against his ass as Dick's mouth found his neck.

"Blue." He moaned the word, his body rolling, slow and gentle, everything in him easy.

Dick shifted enough that their cocks rubbed together, and there they were, the three off them
rubbing and kissing and feeling good.

"Yeah, that's it." Rock's voice rumbled against his back.

"Mmm... My boys." Hot motherfuckers.

"All yours," muttered Dick, tongue working magic, fingers playing with his balls.

Rock's fingers found the ring in his nipple and tugged on it. His eyes crossed, a deep moan growing
inside him. Dick rocked against him, the water making them all roll together, Rock's prick sliding
along his crack as his and Dick's cocks bumped and rubbed.

His hands slipped down Dick's back, nails scratching the area right above that muscled ass.

"Fuck!" Dick jerked against him, pushing him back into Rock.

"Mmm. Hey there, baby green," he teased, the old nickname making him smile.

Dick chuckled, but the sound was breathless, his Pretty's eyes a little glazed and full of heat.

"So fucking pretty." He took Dick's mouth, tongue sliding in to fuck those parted lips.

"I've got the best view in the fucking world," murmured Rock as he and Dick continued to kiss. Rig
let Rock move him, let the fat cock slide against his ass and tease him.

"Finally got everybody naked," muttered Dick.

Rock laughed and swatted Dick's ass in the water.

"He's obsessed with that whole naked thing, Rocketman."

"Works for me." Rock grinned and bit his ear, tweaking his nipple ring again.

"Blue." His toes curled and he rolled up, electricity shooting down his spine.

Rock chuckled. "Get his other nipple, kid. He's still kind of coherent."

His Pretty took direction well, moving to take his other nipple in that hot mouth.

He grunted, his hands grabbing onto Dick's ass and squeezing hard. He couldn't think, not like this,
not with the water and the tugging and the sucking. "Please."

Rock's hand slid between them, wrapping around his and Dick's cocks. His Blue started working
them and it was so fucking good. His hips jerked and Rock's cock nudged his hole. He bore down,
letting the tip slip inside, stretch him.

Rock's rumble increased, become almost a growl. "So fucking good, Rabbit."

"Fuck, yeah. Blue. Blue, in."

Rock thrust and Dick helped him push back instead of float and just like that, his Blue was buried
in deep.

"Sweet fuck..." He gasped, his entire body convulsing for a second. "Yes."

"Fuck yes." Rock thrust into him again.

Dick just moaned for them, his sweet noises starting up.

"Fucking made for this." He grabbed Dick's neck, brought their mouths together in a hungry kiss.

Dick kissed him back, tongue thrusting in the same rhythm Rock was jerking them off with. Fuck.
Fuck, yes. His heart was fucking going to stop, it was so hot.

They moved together like a fucking dream, all three of them working for the same sweet fucking
goal. He squeezed Rock's prick, bounced on the fat cock. Beautiful son of a bitch.

Dick was making his sweet porno noises, their soundtrack fucking complete as Rock's low groans
joined them. The water splashed around them, the heat and cool maddening as all fuck.

Hand tightening around their pricks, Rock matched the speed increase of his thrusts.

"Gonna... Y'all." So fucking close.

"Come on, Rabbit. Come on my fucking cock."

Dick was the one who cried out at that, body jerking. Someone tweaked his nipple again and he
was flying, rocking hard between them as he came. He could feel Rock joining them, filling him
with heat.

Then they all settled, floating there as they worked a three-way kiss.

Fuck, this was nice. Lazy. Easy. Warm.

"Happy vacation," murmured Dick.

"Fuck, yeah." He nuzzled Rock's jaw.

"Uh-huh. Gonna be a good one."

Like any of them weren't.

Life was good.

***

Rock finished his run down the medium hill and turned to watch as Rig came down with Dick
following fairly close behind. Damn, that winter coat really was the biggest piece of clothing he'd
ever seen.

Their own personal cowboy was skiing, though, not doing a half bad job of it at that, and if that's
what it took to get Rig enjoying himself on the slopes, Rock wasn't going to bitch. Or laugh. He
hadn't even bitched when the little twink teaching Rig how to ski had flirted like he actually
thought he had a chance of getting into Rig's pants.

Rock gave a loud whoop as Rig came to a stop close by, Dick ending up next to Rig. "Way to go --
you didn't even fall when you went over that bump."

Rig's cheeks were ruddy, eyes dancing from underneath the brim of the gimme cap. "Skis three, Rig
two. I'm catching up."

"You're doing fantastic!" Dick gave Rig a hug from behind which looked like it was threatening to
put their cowboy in the snow, but the kid made sure that didn't happen.

Rock grinned as he met those grey eyes. "You want another go to even the score or you want to go
sit by the fire and warm up for awhile?"

"Oh. You two go on up. There's a cup of coffee with my name on it."

"I don't know about the kid, but I'm starving. Skiing's hungry work."

"Yeah. We can go back out after we warm up. I hear the hot chocolate here is almost as special as
you." Dick winked at him and Rig, repeating what the ski instructor had told Rig.

"Uh-huh. Less clumsy, I bet." Rig grinned. "Come on, y'all. Let's go feed Rocketman and caffeinate
me. I'm ready."

They headed for the main chalet, leaving their skis with the rental place before going inside where
it was warm, the fire in the big fireplace crackling away. Rig let Dick help with the coat, the gloves,
the hat, the man's lips shivering.

Rock knew exactly how to help with that. He leaned in and put his lips on Rig's, breathing into the
kiss. Rigger's eyes went wide, then stepped closer, right up against him. He gave Rig a real kiss,
one that went on long enough some of the folks in the chalet started cheering for them.

"Blue..." Rig blinked at him, cheeks red from him this time, not the cold.

He grinned and slid his arm around Rig's shoulders, leading his Rabbit to the couch next to the fire,
currently unoccupied.

Dick hung up their stuff and joined them just as a waiter arrived. "Can I get you guys anything?"
The admiring glance took them all in this time.

"Coffee for me, please."

Dick looked at him, one eyebrow lifted. "How about hot chocolate?"

Rig sighed, rolled his eyes dramatically.

"No coffee. We'll have three hot chocolates." Rock gave the kid a wink. "You have something for
lunch we can eat out here?"

"The chef does a wide variety of sandwiches."

He nodded. Rig would eat that. And then dessert.

"Roast beef?" Dick asked, sounding hopeful.

"Sure. We've got Roast beef with homemade horseradish and thin-cut fries."

"Sounds great. Make it three."

Rig was leaning on him, eyes on the fire. Rock could see the little, lazy smile, the happiness in
Rig's eyes. This had been a good fucking idea, despite Rig's protests about the cold.

"This is nice, huh?" Dick stretched out, looking happy, too.

"Uh-huh."

"You guys try the slopes?" Two lean, smiling men grinned down at them, all dressed to go out and
play.

Rock nodded. "Yeah. It's a great day out there."

"We're heading up for a few runs. Want to come along?" The question seemed mostly directed
toward the kid.

Dick shook his head. "We're good. Maybe we'll meet up with you later."

"If you change your mind, honey..." That look was very admiring.

Rig's eyebrow arched, one leg landing on Dick's lap in a definite possessive move.

"I won't." The kid gave Rig, and then him, a look of pure love. Dick was theirs, through and
through.

Rig nodded to the couple, leaning harder against his shoulder. It was pretty damn hot, watching
their cowboy rumble a little.

Looking a little disappointed, the two guys left and Dick snuggled up against Rig. "Love it when
you go all Rocketman on me."

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about..."

"Uh-huh." Dick gave Rig a quick kiss.

Rock just grinned at them. At his fucking men. The public kisses still made Rig all fluttery and red.
Made Rock chuckle, really. Of the three of them, Rigger just couldn't get used to being touched
with other people around.

Their sandwiches and hot chocolates were delivered, and Rock's stomach growled; they smelled
amazing. There were little peppermint sticks in the mugs, swirling around, slow and lazy, and Rig
dived into the drink, swallowing deep. Rock went for his sandwich first, while the kid popped a few
fries into his mouth.

It was damn good, still, watching Rig come up out of his drink with a little chocolate moustache
made him want to be somewhere a whole lot more private. Rig's tongue cleaned that pretty upper
lip. Rock couldn't stop the rumble that rose up from his belly.

"I think we need to eat quickly," Dick noted. Smart kid.

"I'm not hungry." Rig dipped back into the hot chocolate again.

"You need to eat, Rabbit." He was going to start growling in a minute.

"Let's take this stuff to our room. We can feed each other, after." Dick had pretty good plans.

Rig nodded, stole a French fry. "I could handle that."

"It's a plan." He grabbed his and Rig's plates. "You take my hot chocolate. You got the room key,
kid?"

Dick was right behind him, all horny grins. "You know it."

"You know that every man at this place is jealous of me, don't y'all?" Rig noted.

Rock chuckled as Dick piped up. "Nope -- they're all jealous of me."

"Bullshit." Rig took the stairs, letting them watch that ass.

"Is not!" Dick argued, watching as hard as Rock was.

"I'd say it was me they were jealous of, what with me having two guys younger than me on either
arm, but I'm a stud..."

"I'm not that much younger." Rigger was chuckling now, shaking his head.

"Spring fucking chicken, that's what you are." That had the kid laughing, too.

"I did say bullshit already, right?"

"Uh-huh. I think you should put your mouth to better use, frankly." His own lips were twitching
and he winked at Dick.

"Oh, I don't know, man. I think I'm giving up blowjobs for Lent."

The fuck Rig was! He growled a little, and Dick started laughing. Hard.

Dick managed to contain himself enough to speak. "I don't think we're even in the same ballpark as
Lent."

"No? Too bad. I hear Mardi Gras is fun."

Like his Rabbit would be comfortable around all those people.

"No blow jobs would not be fun." For any of them. Rock was fucking sure of that much.

"No?"

Dick got the door open, Rig almost finished with one of the cocoas. Rock put the sandwiches down
and took the mugs from Rig's hands. The kid already had his stuff on the table, the door locked.

Those grey eyes met his, warm and happy, laughing. "Hey."

"Hey, Rabbit." He took Rig's mouth, tongue pushing in deep. His cowboy opened up to him, one
arms draping around his neck as the best mouth in the history of the planet made his knees weak.

Dick leaned against them, fingers sliding over him, over Rig, tongue playing over the sides of their
mouths. He let Dick into the kiss, but only for a little bit, then he wanted all of the attention of that
beautiful fucking mouth on him. He sucked on Rig's tongue, his hands finding that little cowboy
butt and squeezing. He loved how Rig wiggled, one leg draped around his hip.

He barely noticed when the kid stopped leaning against them, but he sure as hell fucking noticed
when his cock pushed out of his jeans and met Rig's. A second later, Dick's mouth was on him. He
groaned, then Rig chuckled into his lips, teeth teasing his bottom lip. Then Dick did that thing
where he took them both in, his cock and Rig's pressed tight together.

"Oh. Oh, fuck. Pretty..." Rig grabbed hold of him, those eyes rolling.

Rock didn't say anything at all, just brought his and Rig's mouths back together as Dick worked
them so fucking good. He could feel Rig's prick, sliding beside him, the motions rough and a little
jerky. Rig usually sucked, usually used that mouth to its best advantage. He liked feeling the man
on the other side. Dick's moans added another sensation to the whole thing, the kid's hand hot on
his ass.

Rig tasted like mint and cocoa and fucking male. Like sex.

The suction around their pricks increased and he started moving his hips, pushing deeper as Rig
pulled back. They soon had the rhythm, Dick slurping and moaning and fucking sucking to beat the
band.

"Jesus." Rig's head fell back. "Fuck. Don't stop."

"He won't."

Dick's hum of agreement nearly sent him over the fucking edge. Rig arched, bucked against him,
hips rolling. Hell, yes. He pushed his hand up under Rig's shirt, found the ring embedded in that
sweet little tittie and twisted it. He felt that cock pulse against him, felt the kid start to swallow.
Fuck yes.

He drove his hips back and forth, fucking Dick's mouth a few times before it all became too much
and he came, too.

"Fuck..." Rig was swaying, blinking at him.

He held on tight, keeping his Rabbit upright until Dick let them slide out of his mouth. The kid
tugged and they went to the bed all together. On the way, Rig snagged his hot chocolate with a
wink.

Rock laughed and threw himself on the bed, holding out his arms for his lovers. It didn't really
matter which one of them people were jealous of, they all had it good and they fucking knew it.

"Best vacation ever," he declared as he was pounced from both sides.

And the snow had nothing to do it with it.

End.