The Six Fingered Cowpoke

by rhombus

July 2009. Natalie and Jared drop the charges against Kyle. But what do they want in return? AU. Total crackfic.

The Six-Fingered Cowpoke

---

"...and then initial here." D.A. Hanen's tone was clipped, but Kyle didn't care. Everything sounded pleasant to his ears now that the charges were dropped against him. He didn't know what he would have done without Roxy. Or Stacy's money, which paid for Adam, so he didn't have to rely on some wet-behind-the-ears public defender who didn't know his ass from a hole in the ground.

"And that's it?" he asked, trying to keep himself from bouncing out of the chair with excitement as he finished up the paperwork.

Adam smiled down at him, his eyes dancing. "That's it!"

Kyle smiled back. Adam was such a flirt. Though the guy wasn't exactly his type, Kyle could picture himself going there, if only to show a bit of his gratitude. He planned on getting really, really drunk later and maybe he'd see if Adam wanted to join in the festivities.

In any case, his number one priority for the evening was getting laid—and laid well. Victory sex was definitely on the docket.

He allowed himself, for the merest of moments, to think about searching the police station for that perfect someone to take care of his needs, who would be the reddest cherry to top his sundae, who would make everything more special just by being him, before stamping down those asinine thoughts in favor of something more realistic. Like hitting up the gay bars. It had been far too long since he'd gotten any, thanks to his stupid legal troubles. But now that it was all taken care of, the world was his oyster... so to speak. Sea cucumber? That was better.

The D.A. was still standing over him, and it gave him the sudden urge to talk to her, to get some kind of closure, so he could finally be on his merry way toward the crossroads of Drunksville and Sexytown.

He pushed himself out of the squad room chair and said, "I—I don't know how to thank you for this."

D.A. Hanen picked up the forms and began walking away. "Oh, don't be thanking me." She gestured toward the other side of the squad room. "Thank them."

Kyle turned, confused, only to be met by more confusion as Natalie and Jared Banks stared back at him. Natalie wiggled her fingers at him, a deceptively sweet smile on her face.

Adam's voice distracted him. "I'll send you a bill." He reached out his hand for a shake. Kyle took it, relieved for the momentary diversion.

"Yeah. Thank you!"

But Adam walked away saying nothing more, leaving Kyle to his apparent saviors. He reluctantly walked over, a sigh heavy on his lips.

"So I guess I have you guys to thank for this."

Jared pushed up his shirtsleeves and jutted his head out, as if he were expecting something from him. "Go for it."

Kyle chuckled, allowing his freedom-high to trump any discomfort at having to share space with his victims. "Thank you."

"You don't think this is free of charge, do you?" Natalie glared at him, her hand on her hip.

"I—I can't pay you. I don't have any money."

Jared barked out a laugh. "No. We don't want money."

"Then what do you want?"

"You," Natalie said, pursing her lips around the syllable.

Kyle shook his head, furrowing his brows. "...whuuuut?"

Natalie stepped closer. Her finger trailed down his cheek then rubbed along his bottom lip. "You heard me." She leaned in, pressing her body up against his, which wasn't exactly accomplishing what she hoped, he imagined, unless she was trying to give him the heebies. She poked him hard in his chest, then swirled one manicured finger around an unimpressed nipple. "You... and me. And a lot less clothes."

Kyle couldn't stop himself from laughing. His whole life as of late had just been... surreal. And this was the universe's idea of a cruel trick. Had to be. Punishment for all his many misdeeds. Instead of letting him find some nice, handsome man to share his bed for the evening, the gods kept throwing horny, desperate women at him.

First Gigi Morasco, and now Natalie? He couldn't figure what was with these females being all over him, saving divine retribution. He definitely hadn't been encouraging their advances, but he guessed he couldn't blame them. He knew that guys and girls alike couldn't resist his Southern-fried bad boy charms.

He didn't even try to stop the condescending smirk from pulling at the corners of his mouth. "I'm sorry Natalie..." He gently pushed her back, reestablishing the borders of his personal space. "But as gorgeous as you are, you're not really my type."

Jared sidled up behind him, placing a possessive hand on his shoulder. Kyle felt warm breath against his hair as Jared leaned down and whispered into his ear. "How about me, Kyle? Would I do it for you?"

Kyle swallowed, his smirk falling. He tried to keep images of Jared's mouth, so close to his skin, out of his mind. What the hell was going on?

"Natalie told me about your little strip show. It got me interested. I wanted to see it for myself." His hand coasted along the back of Kyle's collar, then slipped under his shirt, just briefly, making the hairs on Kyle's skin stand at attention. "It sounded pretty hot."

Kyle closed his eyes and inhaled through his mouth, his confusion battling with his natural instincts. It wasn't helping matters that priority number one still skated at the forefront of his mind.

"But, I mean, you obviously like women." He gestured at Natalie. "And—and their ample offerings." His hands unconsciously stopped at chest level, his palms cupped. Natalie rolled her eyes at him and slapped his hands down.

Kyle turned his head toward Jared, who quirked an eyebrow, then leaned in close again, resting his forearm on Kyle's shoulder. "Oh, Kyle. Prison taught me many, many things." His other hand moved down Kyle's back, then pinched one cheek lightly. "Like what to do with a little guy like you."

"Uh," Kyle started, but couldn't find the words to finish. Instead he shoved his hands into his pockets and swiveled on his heels, facing Jared. He stared up into that cocksure face, trying to find some joke in it, some lie. All he saw was... hunger.

"You're playing with me, right?" he finally managed to spit out.

He felt Natalie come up behind him. "That's the plan, Stripper Boy."

"No. You guys are messing with me. I don't know why, but you are. This is ridiculous."

Natalie crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. "You don't believe us? Show him, Jared."

Jared, keeping one arm firmly on Kyle's shoulder, pulled his phone out of his pocket, quickly fiddled with the buttons, then angled the screen toward Kyle.

"Here we are with our very good friend Chuck Wilson, down at his ranch in Texas."

Natalie's hand was like a snake on his other shoulder. "He's a real cowboy; but you made a pretty good show of it yourself, Kyle."

"Oh my... God." Kyle's mouth dropped open as Jared scrolled through the pictures. He couldn't stop the strangled noise from escaping his throat when a particularly filthy image came up.

"Ah, yes," Jared said. "Chuck taught us this move. The Six-Fingered Cowpoke. My Sparky's quite the talented rider, wouldn't you say?"

He scrolled through to the next photo.

Kyle inhaled sharply. "Holy..."

Jared. Sucking dick. And by the look on Cowboy Chuck's face, doing a pretty damn good job of it.

"Like what you see?"

Kyle dipped his shoulders and scooted out of the pair's grip. This was insane. He was dreaming. He was not getting propositioned right now by a happily married couple who were, aside from a bit of baby-swap-abetting, considered upstanding citizens. The elitist of the elite. Not to mention the fact they hated him.

Not even at his most charming would he be able to wipe his slate clean in their eyes. Or, so he thought, at least.

"Why me?" he said, hoping he didn't sound as flustered to them as he did to himself.

Natalie smirked at him. "You owe us." She looked like the cat who swallowed the canary. He felt like a half-swallowed canary. Inappropriate images fluttered through his mind at that thought, thanks to that damn phone of Jared's. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm down. This had to be a dream. Which meant that the charges weren't really dropped against him. He'd wake up and it would be his trial date, and he'd be sentenced to prison, where he'd meet guys worse than Jared who knew how to handle "little guys like him."

A hand on his arm brought him back to the here-and-now. Jared was pinching him again, as if he could read his thoughts. A gentle reminder that this was real. This was happening. Apparently whether he wanted it to or not. He... wasn't so sure how he felt about it, to be completely honest, which admittedly was not something he was used to being lately.

Natalie stepped closer, intent on ignoring personal boundaries. "We just sprung you. Aren't you just the least bit grateful?"

"Yeah." He cleared his throat. "Yes. Of course."

"And don't you wanna celebrate?"

"That was the next step, yeah."

"So what's stopping you, Kyle?"

"Too many—too many people in the mix."

"Aww, our widdle innocent stripper's not into three-ways? Or, you've just never had the opportunity?"

"Both," he squeaked out, embarrassed by his uncharacteristically high voice.

Jared's strong hand landed on his shoulder, making him jump—but only a little. "Trust us, Kyle. You're gonna like it." His mouth was back at Kyle's ear. "A lot."

Kyle darted his eyes back and forth. He felt like he was being circled by a pair of hungry wolves. And he couldn't believe they were talking about this right out in the open, in the police station of all places. He guessed it helped that Natalie's uncle ran the joint, but still, he very much doubted that Commissioner Buchanan had any idea what kind of... eye-opening stuff his precious little niece was in to in her private life.

"I don't trust you," he finally replied. He thought he noticed a familiar head of hair out of the corner of his eye. He glanced quickly over his shoulder and was rewarded with instant confirmation. Yep. There was Oliver, pretending to read an open file, but doing a piss-poor job of hiding his true intentions. He kept sneaking highly conspicuous glances toward the three of them, biting his lip, furrowing his brow, shifting ever so slightly closer, as if trying to hear their conversation better.

Suddenly, things seemed clear. He knew what he wanted.

"I don't trust you," Kyle repeated, before continuing, "but I'll go along with this. As long as you do one thing for me."

"What's that?"

"Jared." Kyle quirked his lips into a half-smile. "You need to grab my ass. Right now. And not care who sees it. And I mean really grab it. Like you wanna rip it off and take it home with you."

Much to his surprise, Jared did not hesitate. His eyebrows shot up as that strong hand grabbed hold, clamped down, and stayed there.

"Good enough?" Jared whispered into his ear.

Kyle closed his eyes. He couldn't help but smile when he heard the sound of paper hitting the floor behind him, followed by desperate scrambling and a familiar voice apologizing profusely and awkwardly.

He nodded his head. "I'm in."

Because isn't this what he'd wanted? A night to just go wild in his new found freedom? He didn't even have to go search it out. It came to him, in the form of a very dirty, very flexible two-pack, if those pictures were anything to go by.

And if dropping the charges against him weren't enough to be grateful for, making Oliver squirm did the trick. He really did owe them now.

"Let's go." Natalie tugged him by the arm and dragged him toward the hallway. Kyle managed to whip his head around in time to see Oliver gaping at them, his mouth slack, his eyes tiny slits. Grinning, Kyle winked at him before allowing himself to be carted out of the room like a piece of luggage.

They ended up at the Angel Square Hotel. Kyle started for the stairs.

Jared stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Where do you think you're going, slugger?"

He gestured toward the ceiling. "I have a room upstairs. I thought that's where—"

Natalie cut him off. "Yeah, we know all about the room you're blackmailing out of Roxy. That's not where we're going."

"Oh." Kyle sucked in his lower lip and avoided their gaze, feeling like a kid who just got scolded by the librarian and her hot husband.

He followed them to the office behind Roxy's desk, where, at the back of the room, Jared opened the linen closet and began removing shelves. Kyle's eye widened in confusion. Were they gonna try to fit in there? This was madness. He was starting to think that agreeing to a threesome with people who kind of hated him was not the smartest move in the playbook.

He took a step back, but ran smack into Natalie, whose piercing gaze was like lasers burning through his skull.

She pointed back toward Jared, who was now standing in front of an open entryway. He slowly walked forward, peering down the stairs that led to... somewhere.

"What is this, some kind of sex-dungeon?" he joked.

"Yes," Jared replied, straight-faced. "That's exactly what this is."

Jared started down the stairs first, Kyle following, though he wasn't quite sure why anymore. His legs were doing all sorts of things his brain wasn't exactly sold on. They entered a room with thick, concrete walls, but the floor was carpeted and soft, and the bed looked normal, squishy and comfortable even, with a dark purple duvet and mounds of pillows set up against the padded headboard.

Turning his head from side to side, he let out a short whistle. "This is nice."

"And sound-proof," Natalie said. "I borrowed a few tips from my sister."

Kyle's brow creased. Then he remembered. "Jesus. Didn't she lock you two up in this place? Why would you ever come back here?"

Natalie stepped in front of him, pulling his jacket off of his shoulders slowly.

"She locked us up somewhere else. And then we had this place built. To help us get over that traumatic experience."

Kyle swallowed. "Does anyone—does anyone know about this place?"

Jared sneaked up behind him, his breath hot on Kyle's ear. "You thinking of screaming for help, Kyle?"

Kyle's whole body tensed. Jared laughed.

"There aren't any locks on the door." Jared's lips caressed his neck. "You don't have to worry about that."

"Oh." Kyle released the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "Okay."

Suddenly he was spinning, being pulled toward Jared, his lips consumed by Jared's hungry mouth while a pair of small hands slipped around his waist, unbuckled his belt then slid up under his shirt, scratching his skin. His dick twitched into life, pleased with all the attention his body was receiving.

He was spinning again. Now Natalie was in front of him, ripping his shirt over his head. Her eyes burned with blue fire, and, Jesus, she looked kinda hot, too. She pulled his head down for a kiss and he didn't fight her, but he wasn't exactly responding enthusiastically. It was different, the lips softer, flavored, but not entirely unpleasant, especially when her manicured nails scraped down his chest, over his nipples. While he tried to get used to the strange sensation of being kissed by a woman, Jared grabbed hold of his pants and tugged them down. Unconsciously, Kyle stepped out of them, kicking his shoes off in the process.

Wearing nothing but his socks and boxers, he was spun once more, and Jared was back at his mouth, his chin, tilting his head up to get access to his neck. He was so much taller than Kyle, he was practically bent at a ninety-degree angle to manage it. Apparently deciding it was too much trouble, he instead grabbed Kyle under the arms and lifted him, straining, until Kyle decided to take pity on him and help out by wrapping his arms around Jared's neck and pulling himself up.

Kyle felt a rush of heat consuming his insides as Jared carried him to the bed, practically throwing him down on it and then covering Kyle's body with his own. Kyle started grabbing at Jared's shirt, pulling it over his head. His hands roamed the toned expanse of Jared's chest, enjoying the feel of the muscles as they twitched under his touch.

Before Kyle was fully satisfied with his exploration, Jared grabbed his hands and pinned them over his head on the mattress. That's when Natalie appeared in his vision again. She had her fists around a few scarves, pulling them taut, then releasing them. Kyle looked up and noticed the looped handles attached to the headboard for the first time. Jared leaned up, allowing Natalie room to dip under him and, straddling Kyle, she bound his hands and left him splayed out. When she was done, she caressed his face, then turned and kissed her husband, hard, while Jared began ripping her clothes off impatiently. Soon enough they were both more naked than he was.

Kyle leaned his head back and closed his eyes, taking deep breaths. He couldn't believe he'd allowed himself to get here, but now that he was, he may as well enjoy it, since he was tied down and at their mercy.

He felt something soft graze his face. He opened his eyes to darkness. One of them was tying the final scarf around his eyes as a blindfold. A sudden fear took him, but it was soon replaced by arousal as his boxers were slid down his body, his socks removed, and a warm mouth made contact with half-hard dick.

It didn't stay half-hard for long.

The mouth worked him over expertly. He felt a finger press up against his ass, venturing down into the crevasse, before finally poking at the hole.

A voice, low and dark and smooth, was at his ear. "She's good, right."

The finger slipped in, small, dainty. The manicured nail was careful not to scrape up too roughly against the walls.

Jesus Christ, it was Natalie. That rich bitch Natalie Banks was sucking his dick, one slender finger up his ass, a woman was doing this to him, and he was enjoying it. God, was he enjoying. Of course he was. Didn't matter who was doing what—it was the what that mattered. Fuck, a—a—a god damn mogwai could be sucking him off right now and he'd be hard as a rock.

His dick was straining, so close, so close to release it was almost painful, when suddenly the warm mouth retreated, the finger following close after, leaving him quivering and whimpering. He opened his eyes against the blindfold, uselessly trying to see beyond the fabric.

"What's—what's going on?" He thought he heard a tell-tale clicking sound a few feet away. "Are you..." He swallowed, trying to find his voice. "Are you taking pictures?"

Suddenly he felt soft hair against his face; Natalie's throaty voice trembled along his earlobe. "Don't like being caught with your pants down, Kyle? Having your hands tied, completely powerless? Try being blackmailed for protecting your sister. You wanted to fuck us over? Consider us even."

"You're gonna blackmail me?"

"With the pictures? Nah. You don't have to worry about that. These are... for our personal use."

He listened as dual footfalls headed toward the door.

Shit. Shit shit shit! They were just gonna leave him here, for God knew how long. He didn't care how embarrassing it would be—he desperately wished for Oliver to storm in, guns blazing, like when he'd rescued him from Schuyler. Though, if Schuyler had been planning to do what Jared and Natalie had promised before reneging... he wouldn't have minded being bent over that desk so roughly. And he wouldn't have needed Oliver's assistance, that's for damn sure.

But he needed it now. Shit, he needed it now. And now was definitely not the time for his raging libido to fantasize about rough foreplay and Schuyler fucking Joplin and desks and Jared and Oliver and... Shit. They'd worked him up good. He was too horny for his own safety. All thoughts of self-preservation were trumped by his aching hard-on.

The door opened; he could hear it swooshing closed. His heart pounded against his chest wildly.

"Wait!" His lungs constricted with each desperate pant. "Please. Please. We're even... we're even. Just... lemme go."

"Oh, we're not done with you yet. Not by a long shot." Jared. Directly above him. Suddenly on top of him, pulling his wrists tighter against the restraints. He felt the fabric digging in to his skin, burning. It only made his dick twitch harder. Then Jared was kissing him, kissing him hard, his teeth nipping at Kyle's bottom lip, at his tongue. And he was kissing back, because God damn it if this wasn't the hottest thing that had ever happened to him, even if it was the scariest, too. Maybe those two things were intertwined, and the danger was making him hotter, harder, more desperate.

"Yes," he panted against Jared's scruffy chin.

"You wanna be untied now?" Natalie's voice, sweet, almost a coo in his ear, but laced with danger.

He shook his head. "Don't care; don't care." He really didn't. He was too far gone to give two shits about anything except the feeling of Jared on top of him, grinding against him, Jared's hands moving up and down his strained arms, making every inch of his skin tingle under the contact.

"We need you upright," Natalie said. Her fingers worked quickly, freeing him from his restraints. His emancipated hands ripped the blindfold from his eyes then settled quickly in Jared's hair, roaming, tugging, pulling his head down closer, pushing him deeper into his mouth.

"We need you upright," Natalie repeated.

Kyle released Jared's head and allowed himself to be pulled up by strong arms. He perched on his knees, Jared in front of him, Natalie closing in behind him. Their two heads met against his cheek and they kissed with such passion he could feel the energy of it crashing against him. Leaning his head on Jared's shoulder, he let himself relax for a moment and tried to let the tenseness in his lower body subside, while Natalie and Jared grabbed at each other, locking him tight in between them.

After a few moments of basking in the surrounding warmth, he felt a masculine hand on his chin, lifting his face.

"Pay attention, Kyle."

While he watched, Natalie lifted one heavy tit onto his shoulder from behind, which wasn't really doing anything for him... that is, until Jared leaned his head down and pulled the nipple into his mouth, then used his tongue to drag the bottom of the hardened, wet bud along Kyle's skin. He silently promised himself to never find breasts sexy again. But, oh God, he'd have to wait to keep that promise, because right now the combination of Jared's mouth and Natalie's chest on his shoulder was doing things to him. Very, very good things.

He rolled his hips into Jared's, rubbing their erections together. That seemed to arouse Jared's attention from his current task. He popped the nipple out of his mouth and planted his hands firm on Kyle's shoulder. "Turn around," he said.

Kyle obliged. He didn't know the first thing about ménage à trois-ing, so he figured he'd be better off following his partners' leads, as they seemed to be quite the seasoned experts at this sort of thing.

"I'm gonna fuck you in the ass now, Kyle."

Kyle tilted his head back and nipped at Jared's neck, a silent consent that made Jared smile. He probably wasn't expecting such open compliance. Kyle liked knowing he could still surprise someone, even in this power struggle where his own stake was nonexistent.

Natalie caressed the underside of his cock, her hands moving gently and effortlessly as if she were gathering yarn. He brought his hands to her shoulders, steadying himself, as Jared's finger slid down his crack, gently opening Kyle up, moving his finger like a whirlpool, stretching and dilating the sensitive hole, making Kyle squirm and gasp.

He dropped his forehead onto Natalie's as Jared pushed in, the whole length of him in one slow, steady thrust, until he was fully submerged, slick and long, longer than Kyle was used to. His insides melted like boiling magma and a fever screamed inside his head.

Jared grabbed him around the waist and then they were descending, landing on the mattress with a bounce. An involuntary and low-pitched oonf! escaped Kyle's throat as the force of their fall knocked Jared even further in. They lay flush on top of the other, Jared's hands roaming his sides, gripping him, keeping him down, his feet planted on the mattress to give him the leverage he needed to pump into Kyle. Every third or fourth thrust would make contact with the sweet spot, sending jolts of pleasure through Kyle, making him moan.

He barely noticed Natalie crouched over him, barely touching him, her fingers like ghosts. Then he heard the tear of a wrapper, felt the familiar sensation of latex on his skin.

"Wh-whu?" He couldn't manage much more than that in his current state of confused arousal.

"You gotta pay it forward Kyle. He fucks you while you fuck me." She rolled the condom down the shaft, reached behind Jared for the lube, then popped open the lid.

"Jesus! Nat... I... gay..." Forming coherent sentences was something he'd recently given up, like a bad habit.

Natalie continued slathering his dick with lube. "An ass is an ass, right? Trust me, Stripper Boy. You won't even know the difference."

He held his breath and watched as Natalie, her back to him, grabbed Jared's hand off his chest and aimed it toward Kyle's hardness, coating two fingers with the lube it found there. Then the fingers roamed to her smallest opening, circling it, teasing it open. Kyle closed his eyes. It felt too intimate to see, too intimate between the two of them.

His eyes snapped open when he felt Natalie's hand on the base of his cock, angling it toward her. Looking over her shoulder at him, she nudged the head in, then gently rocked back and forth, applying pressure, gliding down the shaft slowly until she was almost all the way down. He gasped and panted at the feeling of being surrounded, full, totally immersed in sex, but it was a mixture of pleasure and discomfort.

Because Natalie was wrong. He knew the difference. It wasn't as good anymore. He didn't want to be with a woman. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine himself with someone else, someone with straight hips and a hard body and a big, thick cock. He tried picturing Oliver first, but no... he was too heavy. He knew how Oliver felt on top of him, even if it had been years. He was having the same problem imagining Jared there. He needed someone different, someone he couldn't remember so clearly, someone who could easily sub in.

His mind scrambled, trying to pick through random past encounters, but it kept circling back to one person, someone who had no right invading his thoughts at the moment.

Schuyler Joplin. Shit. That wasn't going to work. Straight guys were just as useless to him as women. Except—he remembered something. Schuyler pinning him to that desk, their bodies flush, and he was furious, breathing heavily, but Kyle had felt something poking against his legs, against his ass. Schuyler was all hot with anger, but he was apparently hot for Kyle, too. Kyle had ignored it at the time, too angry and scared to let himself enjoy the contact, but as it came back to him now, he could feel the heat coursing through him again, setting his skin on fire.

It worked. He felt Schuyler move above him, rocking back and forth, squeezing his dick tight, so tight, and it felt amazing. The throbs circled out to the rest of his body, like someone had just dropped a boulder into a pond. He grabbed hold of slightly rounded hips and shoved them down, settling in deeper. Schuyler gasped, then mewled like a horny sex-kitten.

Jared was still under him, holding him tight by the chest with one hand, while the other snaked in front of the conjoined trio. He steadily rolled into Kyle, setting the pace for all three, and Kyle felt himself caught up in the waves, letting himself be tossed forwards and backwards by the surging bodies surrounding him.

He felt Natalie-as-Schuyler clench around him, and then convulse. He grabbed the hips tighter, helping the amalgamated vision above him ride through the orgasm.

He was close again, and it was even more painful this time, in that good-good way, he was about to burst when the body above him slowly retreated, rolling off the soiled condom, leaving him bare and gasping and twitching, needing contact, needing it more than he needed oxygen. He reached for himself to finish off the job but a pair of delicate hands stopped him, before trading him over to Jared's stronger grip.

And then suddenly the world was tilting topsy-turvy, and he was slammed onto his stomach, fingers tight around his wrists, Jared still stomach-deep inside him. Kyle gasped and moaned, feeling everything in him pulsing, throbbing, ready to explode, but being held off, torturing him a little bit, almost as if each moment he was being inched closer and closer to the slowest death. Oh God. He'd never felt so charged, so aroused, so frustrated.

"Please," he begged, whimpered, groaned. Over and over again—"Please, please, please!"— hoping his stuttered, throaty supplications didn't fall on deaf ears.

Jared's right hand left his wrist and squeezed beneath his body, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Strong fingers gripped him around the base, tight, tighter than anything, then slowly slid up, too slow, too agonizingly slow. He jolted at each torturous movement, gasping, panting, needing more, feeling so close, but unable to get there. He managed to work his free hand underneath his body and clamped it down over Jared's, trying to guide him, but it was his weaker hand versus Jared's stronger.

He felt Natalie shift on the bed next to him, heard her reach across for something, heard the familiar sound of the phone-camera snapping shots.

The pace built, slowly, but steadily, and it was good. It was really, really good. The pain was full-on pleasure now, filling his body, making him sweat and moan and sigh. He let go of Jared's hand on his dick and balled his fist around a handful of sheets. Jared's thrusts slowed to meet the pace of his hand and it was melting Kyle. He felt like sugar on a taffy-pull, all stretched and pliant, malleable and floating, his bones gone semi-liquid. Except the one that was hard as diamonds.

He pushed back against Jared, trying to quicken the pace, used to being in charge, but Jared was having none of it.

Jared's hand moved up the shaft to the head, gently rubbing it, his thumb gliding in circles as if it were polishing delicate china. Then the entire hand suddenly retreated, leaving Kyle pulsing and desperate.

"Who's the donor, Kyle?"

"The what? What? God, don't stop. So good."

"The donor. Whose—blood—saved—Shane?" Jared punctuated each word with a quick thrust. So deep. So good.

"Sh-Shane? Mor—ahhhhhhh—uuhm. Mor-morasco?"

"Yeah."

"Some... nggh... some lady... coma... Parker? Alli—haaaaaa—Allison something."

"Allison Perkins?" Natalie's voice. Sharp. Accusatory.

"May—maybe. I—I think so. Oh-good-God-do-that-again," he groaned, desperate for climax.

"Finish him up, Jared. We got what we came for."

Kyle breathed out, relief flooding through him. Jared curled his hand around Kyle's dick again, increasing the speed and pressure of his strokes, pulling on Kyle, tugging him over the edge, and Kyle came quickly, convulsing so hard he felt like his whole skeleton and all his organs were gonna shoot out of his body.

He rested on the bed, limp, as Jared finished off inside him. He was tired, a pleasant glow enveloping him like a warm, cotton-soft blanket, and he let his eyes droop shut, his whole being cushioned on an airy, dreamy cloud. Jared pulled out, carefully, and Kyle turned on his side, reached for him, attempted to guide him to his back so he could rest his head on that firm, sweaty chest. But Jared pulled away. Kyle whimpered softly, but didn't fight it. He pulled a pillow longways under his head and arm instead and snuggled down into it.

Jared leaned down and patted him on the head. "We'll do this again sometime, maybe."

"Yeahhhhh," he whispered, unable to find the energy to clip the word, letting it extend until it faded on its own.

"You can find your own way out, right?" Natalie's voice was distant, muffled.

"Mm-hmm," he murmured, smiling.

He fell into his usual routine after a body-breaking romp. He imagined a broad, hairy chest beneath him, strong arms around him, blue eyes gazing down on him sleepily, filled with a quiet, secret love. He grinned into the pillow, clutching it close, and drifted into a very deep and very satisfied sleep.