25

Sam knew that it was Spencer walking in his direction. He was going to just sit and pretend he didn't know or care but instead thought it more amusing to put his hands over his face in a protective gesture. He peeped out from between his fingers as he sensed that Spencer had sat down in front of him. At first neither of them spoke. Sam was still half way through a serious sulking session and wanted to be left alone… at least not interrupted by the Bitch Dr. And Spencer could think of a thousand places he'd rather be than sat there looking at Sam peering back at him. It was not the best situation either of them could think of.

'We have to decide what's going to happen.' Spencer finally spoke. Though he'd already made his decision. It was persuading Sam to agree which might be the problem.

Sam's hands moved from his face and dropped to his lap. 'Happen? You're going to fuck off back where you came from, that's what's going to happen.' He spoke in a low growl of a voice which Spencer thought more childish than threatening.

'He's playing us.' Spencer gestured over his shoulder. 'I don't care what he says of thinks he wants because he thrives on seeing us fight. He loves it when you bitch and I defend. It's a game to him.'

Sam gave Spencer the narrow eyed treatment. 'I hate you. I've tried to like you and I've tried to convince myself that I don't hate you, but there's no other way to describe it. I would happily see you dead.' Now Sam made a hissing sound from between his teeth. 'But he's going to slaughter me if I kill you. And anyway, you gone killed yourself any way.'

'Floyd can sniff out a lie.' Spencer started to say.

'Usually. He's not really been concentrating recently has he? He'd know how much I loath you if he was. He'd not have that stupid smile on his face because he'd be able to tell that I would rather eat shit than have to be nice to you.'

'He's playing us.' Spencer said again. 'And we need to play him back.'

Sam raised an eyebrow at this. 'What exactly are you suggesting? You want to fuck me?'

There was a small snort of a laugh from Spencer. 'Sam really, no offence, but you are the last person I would want to bed with. Really you are.'

'Reasons? Give me reasons.' Sam stood. 'Come on, tell me what part of me isn't fantastic and then I'll consider what you've said. But until you give me a reason I'm going to assume that you came out here to fuck me.'

Spencer didn't bother standing. He didn't even bother looking up at Sam. 'Your attitude stinks. You are too short, too thin, I don't like the shape of your mouth, you a are drug and alcohol abuser, you are immature, infantile… I would go that far… you are too young. You are an imperfect child. You need counselling to help you to recover from the horrors you've suffered. I pity you. I feel sorry for you. I understand why you are like you are. I think you will grow – if that were possible – to be a serial killer who doesn't even have the sense to commit his crimes in a place where they have no death penalty. You would die by lethal injection, or be lynched or…'

'Oh you're nice, you are.' Sam sat back down again. 'Floyd likes us to stay skinny. Haven't you noticed your own scrawny body recently? He likes his fucks to too look under developed.'

'… but I think I almost understand you, but I don't actually like you.' Spencer finished what he was saying. 'However you don't need to like who you are working alongside to have a good business relationship with someone. You can really hate the work ethics of another person but yet still somehow fit together well as a partnership. This I think is how we are going to have to deal with this. As a business. I don't have to like you, and you don't have to like me, but to get any peace we need to please and pleasure Floyd.'

Sam actually looked vaguely interested in this idea. He had no idea what Spencer was on about but he was still sort of interested. However there were far more pressing things on his mind. 'You know there's nothing wrong with my height and there's absolutely nothing wrong with the shape of my mouth! It's a great mouth, but apart from that I'm fucking drop dead gorgeous. Floyd cant keep his hands off me.'

'Maybe if you didn't rub yourself on him like a desperate animal he would be more willing to accept your requests.' Spencer remarked. 'There is nothing nice about desperation.'

'No. You are right. There is nothing nice about it. So why are you here if you're not desperate to sort me out?'

Spencer shook his head. 'I'm not. Not to sort you out Sam, but you infiltrated my relationship with Floyd. You've stomped your way in and dug in your hooks and now I don't think I'm going to be able to get rid of you. So we are going to have to learn to play Floyd at his own game.'

'But my nose is OK?'

'When it's not dripping or red… yes. It's passable. Can we please get on with this so that we can relax and make the man who we both profess to love, happy?'

'Then what is it you want? What can I possibly do? I'm a dirty junky drunk runt with a deformed mouth who throws childish tantrums. How the hell could I help and why would I want to help?'

Spencer moved in a bit closer to Sam. The smell of roses was lovely… it wafted up Spencer's nose and into his brain, calming and comforting his mind. It made his heart leap and blood suddenly flow to all of the wrong places. 'Sam… help me.'

This was something new to Sam. Spencer requesting help? But it wasn't just that… there was an odd look in Spencer's eyes. Almost like he was getting too hot. Sam flinched back when Spencer raised a hand, but it just rested on the side of Sam's face, much like Floyd had rested his there not so long ago. 'Whatever it is your body is throwing out at me, you must stop. Please Sam. This is not going to work if you do this.'

Sam shrugged. As far as he was aware he wasn't doing anything. Just oozing with nice smells. 'Stop pawing me. Save it for Floyd. I'm not interesting in what you have to offer, unless that offer is money. Then I'm all yours. Do with me as you will sweet lover man… come over my face… up my arse… let me lick your soft juicy places and…'

'I've no money, so you may as well stop with the sales talk. What we need to do is go and show Floyd that… well…'

Sam's face lit up. 'You're surely not suggesting what I think you are. Not sweet, delicious, innocent Spencer! Surely not!' But Sam thought whatever idea he was brewing in his own head was brilliant! Whether it was the same idea which Spencer had didn't matter. 'But it would sort of iron out things don't you think? It will show each of us that we are both needed and they'll be absolutely no need to try to kill each other afterwards. You, Spencer are a fucking genius, I just never thought I'd hear you say something like that.'

'As I said, desperation is never a nice thing, and I'm desperate. I wanted to be with you both. I wanted this and now I've got what I wanted I need to make sure I can keep it. I'm not as innocent as you might want to think.'

'You've had threesome's before?' Sam's eyes went wide when Spencer nodded. 'And you enjoyed it? You liked it? Was it backroom fucking or some hotel?' Sam hunkered down again. 'Tell me all about it. I need every detail. We need to decide who is going to give and who will receive. We will be over Floyd like a fucking leach and he wont know what's hit him! But I do have to ask why you want to do this with me.'

Spencer stood up and looked over at the huge house sized tent. It had an odd reddish glow around the front of it where the sides were pulled up, letting in the light from the fire and reflecting off the red and orange cushions and bottles. 'Because I would do anything to please him, Sam. Anything. I want to make him happy and I don't think that he is right now. He's in pain and he's feeling a bit lost don't you think?'

'So you gonna fuck me?'

'No.'

'You gonna do what then? Fuck Floyd?'

Spencer wrapped an arm over Sam's shoulder and spoke quietly into his ear.

o-o-o

Floyd watched the pair of them return with interest. He was kneeling and sipping from a small blue bottle. Spencer hunkered down in front of Floyd and gave him a small kiss on the nose. 'I think I need to look at your leg.' He removed the bottle from Floyd's hand and tossed it aside.

'My leg?' Floyd's hand went to his thigh and shook his head slowly. 'Nothing to see Babes.' He looked behind him to see what Sam was doing. He appeared to be re-arranging the cushions, but he looked quickly back at Spencer when he felt fingers on his belt. 'What you doing?'

'I want to see your leg. Until I see what's wrong I'm not going to stop nagging you, so you may as well get it over with now. If there's nothing to see then what's the problem with showing me?'

'It's just where…' He placed a hand over the hand which had expertly unbuckled his belt and was now moving down popping buttons open. '… where Taki got me… it's OK.'

'Then drop your pants and show me. I've not done what I've done just so you can die on me.'

And thumbs were slipping behind the fabric of Floyd's jeans and pulling downwards. 'Fine… fine… look then.' He went to stand, but hands belonging to someone behind him pressed down on his shoulders.

'No need to stand.' Sam said as he assisted in pushing the dark denim further down.

Spencer at first attempted to ignore the fact that Sam was doing something behind Floyd. He could see those slim pale finger digging into Floyd's shoulders and he could see the look on Floyd's face, but that look changed as Spencer moved in and kneeling up demanded something from Floyd for himself. He put hands on Floyd's head and wound hair around his fingers.

It might have crossed Floyd's mind at some point that this was strange. It might have crossed his mind that his was something he'd never have guessed would ever happen, but there it was, happening. Both of his boys… co-operating as it were, in a way which made any pain in Floyd's leg disappear. Actually the whole world disappeared and he would have screamed with delight had not some of that delight been the effective gagging he received via Spencer. There was a feeling that he was going to lose control. Totally lose all control and bite and scratch and punch and scream, but he managed to keep that back, at least for now…

Sam breathed hot greedy breaths on Floyd's neck as he showed Floyd just how much he'd learnt from him. One hand wrapped around Floyd's middle pulling him back tighter and the other giving relief to Floyd.

Spencer thought he was going to fall over backwards and ruin the whole adventure but he kept where he was and felt Floyd's hands on his back, on his arse… investigating and then pulling Spencer forwards as he moved back to keep in rhythm with Sam.

In one glorious and well timed shudder they seemed to finish within seconds of each other. Spencer thought it was Floyd who lost it first, closely followed by himself and then Sam howling at the demons and clawing at every available bit of skin Floyd had exposed. Spencer thought that his own arse was ripped to shreds and would have trouble sitting on a bike for a few days. Floyd seemed to just collapse sideways as Sam flopped back onto the cushions he'd lain out ready.

'My dearest god…' Floyd muttered, licked his lips and then scrabbled for a post coital smoke. Spencer took it from his hand before he could put it between his lips and sat back carefully. He needed to remind Floyd to cut his fingernails.

There were so many questions Floyd wanted to ask. Questions like: What the hell was that? And: How did you know to do that? And: Oh I think I'm cured of all ills forever and obviously: Sam and Spence? What he said was a mumbled garble of nothing. Words seemed to form in his brain and then just collapse and become nothing when they passed over his teeth and lips.

Spencer lay back and with one hand smoked the cheroot and with the other he re-adjusted his clothing. Once he'd gotten used to the idea that it was Sam and not some twink stranger it hadn't been too bad. He grinned around the cheroot. Not too bad? It had actually been a hell of a lot better than that! Spencer glanced over at Sam who had his pants down around his knees and was just laying on his back with a glazed look on his face and drool running down the side of his face. Had Spencer not been able to see the rise and fall of that sunken chest he'd have thought Sam had screwed himself to death. A look at Floyd saw the man who had been the mark in this case laying also on his back with a cheroot slowly burning down in the corner of his mouth. Spencer moved… but not to Floyd. He moved over and placed a hand on Sam's sticky sweaty stomach. He didn't say anything, and he didn't think he could say anything and as Sam still seemed to be gazing off into dreamland, Spencer lay on the cushions next to him. Floyd wanted them to get along with each other? Well… was that just not proof that they could compromise and do what Floyd wants?

o-o-o

The rutting session which Spencer hoped would stop the bitching sent the three of them into a long sleep. Spencer's was full of snippets of odd partial memories of things from the past. Sam's was a dream about everlasting and beautiful love. Floyd's was a bit of a nightmare.

He dreamed that his boys ran off with each other and left him alone in the cold dark wastes of somewhere in a Nordic country. The weird lights played in the sky behind him and his Spencer and his Sam were going hup hup go faster, go faster! And they slapped the reins and dogs ran off dragging a sled behind them… with Spencer and Sam screwing each other and waving goodbye and singing mmmbop… and moving away past the tall ever green trees and away… In his dream he wrapped his arms tightly around himself and tried to walk, but his legs were broken, or not working and he fell on his face. He clawed at the snow which was stopping him from breathing and trying to drag his useless body over the cold wastes to get his boys back…

'Floyd!' Someone was shaking him.

'What's wrong with him… Shit… is he crying?'

'Floyd!' It was Spencer and Spencer was rolling him onto his back and patting him on the side of the face. 'Wake up… you're having a nightmare…'

Floyd's eyes snapped open. He grabbed Spencer's hair and pulled him forward. Stupidly Spencer thought it was for a kiss and smiled at Floyd's sweaty face. 'Don't… just don't you ever fucking do that.'

'Do what? You were having a nightmare. I just woke you.'

'Don't go on a sled being pulled by dogs. Don't… if you do, I think my legs will break.'

Spencer moved back onto his hunkers. 'Weird dream?'

'You don't know the half of it, but just don't do that huh? Would really piss me of if I had to drag myself half way across Norway just so that I could slaughter you in a fury filled rage. Don't ask. Northern lights can be seen in other places. Norway is officially off our holiday location list.' Floyd looked over at Sam and put a hand out for him. 'You too. Goes for the pair of you… but now I'm thinking…'

'Please don't think, Floyd. It gives you nose bleeds.' Sam said as he grabbed hold of Floyd's hand. 'So any decisions on what's going to happen next, cos much as I love living in this black hole and as much as I adore being in this very elaborate tent thing… I'd rather have bricks around me and a toilet I didn't think was going to bite my arse off when I sat on it.'

'It's something we need to talk about, but firstly I need coffee.' He looked down at his lap. 'And I need to get dressed properly again.' He thought about saying thank you but it felt too late to say anything now. He also wanted to ask if Spencer and Sam had been screwing behind his back, but again thought it was maybe the wrong time to ask. It was something he kept there in the forefront of his mind though.

They sat in a circle of three and nibbled on fruit and drank very strong coffee. There was for the first time in such a long while, no bitching, no sniping and there was also no snot and tears. It was pure joy. It was how life should always be.

'Now you've got me thinking that I'd only every possibly be happy if we went to Norway.' Sam suddenly said as he sipped on his coffee.

Floyd ignored him. He was trying to wind him up and today it just wasnt going to work. 'Spencer? Any ideas? Anywhere in the world… anywhere but Norway or Vegas. I think those two places should be avoided.'

Spencer shrugged. 'Somewhere with good medical care.' It seemed sort of important.

'A desert island!' Sam piped up. 'I envision a cove with high cliffs behind us in a crescent shape and a long shallow sea in front of us. A brilliant blue which hurts your eyes to look at if you stare at it for too long. I can see boats which come in and sell – or give food, but there's water on the island which we can pump to the small house which is half way up the cliff and sitting there like it's been magically glued to the rock but is actually carved out of the cliff face. There are no pirates, no dangerous animals, lots of fresh food to hunt and not another person to be seen except for on the days they arrive with our food.'

'Where is this place?' Floyd looked mildly interested.

'No fucking idea, but wouldn't it be lovely? Just us.'

'Fantasy.' Spencer said. 'I'd like to stay in The States if that's fine with you. My mother…'

'Muah…' Sam let out a moan. 'What about if Floyd decides?'

Spencer spat coffee back out of his mouth and into his mug. Some dripped out of his nose and he then proceeded to have a long coughing fit. Floyd took the coffee from Spencer's hands and looked into the liquid half expecting something nasty to be there. 'You don't want me to decide?' He placed the mug to the side assuming that Spencer had finished with it now he'd blown his nose into the drink.

'Floyd, for all I care I would stay here forever. As long as I'm with you…'

'And me.' Sam interjected.

'As long as I'm with the pair of you I don't mind.'

'Good…' Floyd looked at Sam, but took Spencer's hand. '… Because I was thinking of doing something different for a change, but it would be up to The Big Them as to whether Sam will be permitted to.'

'Do what? Go where? What're you thinking?'

'Was thinking of hanging.' Sam's hand went to his neck, but Floyd ignored him and carried on. 'I feel that we need to be somewhere fresh and new. Away from the old chains.'

'Hanging what, in particular?' Spencer whispered.

'The best fuck I've ever had… sorry Spencer but it's true… was once many fucking centuries ago when I was at a hanging. They strung the villains up and the crowd had gathered and some young rake who knew me well was there in front of me. I put an arm around him and slipped my hand down his breaches. He was as hard as I was. I gave him relief and then we swapped places. And damnit… that was fucking wonderful… watching those men struggle and then twitch and swing and sway… It's the best… And I want you both to experience something that fine.'

Spencer didn't look so sure about this proclamation. Maybe the three way had not been the brilliant idea he'd thought it had been, but Sam was grinning like a loon. 'Wow…' He prodded Floyd on the arm. '…you never told me that before.'