38

Now that Floyd had removed most of the roof from on top of Spencer is was easy to see – Spencer was trapped. No way he could get him out. Floyd's arms ached from the dragging and pulling and his fingers were bleeding and now there was a fresh flow of blood coming from his neck. He explained the situation to Spencer. 'You're fucked.' He told him that it was going to take forever to dig him out… Spencer went horribly silent on him. He didn't seem to be arguing the fact that one man… one very injured and maybe even right at this moment bleeding his last lot of life out couldn't remove the larger pieces alone. Floyd would have loved to have gone to Sam and told him to get working with him, but Sam was now curled up and crying again. Floyd would have liked to have been able to do that too, but no, Floyd had to dig Spencer out.

'Babes, give me a few. I need a drink and to rest a while.'

'Don't leave me here.' Spencer spoke back. It wasn't a request. It was a demand. The boy was so fucking demanding sometimes that it did Floyd's head in.

'Just a few, Spence.' A few what? He didn't actually say. It would give him leeway to abandon the rescue Spencer project for a few hours. He moved away from the rubble before Spencer could question him further. He picked up the sword and ran his tongue along the flat of the blade. 'I love you.' Floyd whispered to it and in Floyd's head it issued a declaration of undying love in return. Floyd wrapped the sword carefully in rags from his bag and put it somewhere where he'd not be able to forget it, but wouldn't keep being distracted by it either. Now it was to Sam he went and hunkered down next to.

'I've an idea.' Floyd stroked a finger down Sam's arm.

'You going to drop dead?'

'Such a nice dog.' Floyd smirked in return. 'I was sitting there on that rubble and looking at you. You're filthy. If you help me… help me remove the rubble from on top of Spencer, maybe we'll find that pump. You can have that wash you so need. I'll even wash you myself. You'd like that? I don't think there's soap, but there's water. Help me and I'll help you.'

'You are a liar. You don't want me to wash properly anyway. You love the smell of shit. You stink of it yourself most of the time.'

'Get your arse over there and help me.'

'Or?'

'Or no water. Simple.'

Sam's expression hardened. 'Let me get my shorts back on first.' He muttered. He didn't want to help Floyd, but he really did want to have a proper wash. Sometimes you had to swallow your pride and muck in if you wanted something bad enough. He pulled his shorts back on and walked slowly over to where Floyd was sitting on a rock having a smoke. 'Are we going to leave Ambrose to rot?' Sam enquired.

'Nope. But I want to get Spencer out of here first and… and of course locate the pump… then we'll prepare Ambrose. Fresh meat is going to be champion!' He handed a smoke to Sam. 'Want one?'

Sam took it, being careful not to touch Floyd's bloody hands. 'Yeah, ta. I feel kind of… I don't know, but it feels wrong eating Ambrose. He's you know? He's more like me than…' He pointed to the rubble. '…Spencer. They say cannibalism makes you go crazy. I don't want to end up a loon.'

Floyd nodded and flicked his ash. 'It has been said that eating your own can fuck with your mind. It's psychological. A breakdown of the barriers built up in your mind, but it's bullshit.'

'So if you came across one of your own, and you killed it…'

'My whole purpose of living would be over and I'd end my life. Jump into a pit of lava… it'd never reach the point that it would make me feel like eating it. I'd likely fuck it though. Sam… Ambrose isn't what you are. He's a full on demon. You're just a lesser thing. An afterthought. It's the same as…'

'A cat eating her kitten?'

'No… it's more like a dog eating a frog. Or maybe a maggot eating away at the rotting flesh of a soldier injured in battle.'

'Right… so he's safe.'

'Perfectly safe. Something to look forward to.'

'OK… you promise it's safe, cos you seemed pissed that I'd eaten eggs.'

'Only cos… well because something might want to know who ate them…' But was it really that? Floyd knew that he'd been angry. Maybe eating Ambrose would be a bad idea, but as long as Sam thought it was OK then that would be fine. At least Floyd hoped so. 'Let's go get Spencer and then sort out your bath.' Floyd patted Sam on the knee and noticed the way Sam flinched back away from him. 'What you scared of? I'm not going to hurt you. I'd never hurt you.' He squeezed Sam's thigh in his hand. 'Now, come on. The sooner we get this done the sooner we can relax.'

'And wash.' Sam muttered. 'You have no idea how bad this makes me feel being like this. It's like hell…' Sam trailed off realising what he'd said and gave a small shrug.

With two of them to drag things off work progressed much quicker. It was only another hour or so before they had the bulk of the building dragged out of the way. The top of the pump stood there shiny and wonderful, the pile of things on the back of Spencer's legs had been removed and Floyd had very carefully run his fingers over Spencer's lower back and legs. There didn't seem to be any blood, but Spencer's cords covered up bruising which was sure to be there. The only thing now holding Spencer in place was a long length which was probably once a rafter laying over his shoulders. Floyd took another break, gave Spencer some water to drink and sat looking at his dirty sweaty face. There was a scab on his cheek and a little run of blood travelling back into his hair. Floyd did wonder if Spencer would object to being taken there now.

'Spence?'

'No.' Spencer told him.

'No what? You don't know what the question is yet… and why do you think I'd take notice of you saying no anyway?'

Spencer almost smiled, but not quite. 'I know you well enough to know what the question was going to be and the fact that you actually thought to ask if you could do that to me whilst I'm laying here with part of a wall crushing my back gives me the right to say no.'

Floyd lit up a smoke and nodded. 'So what you're saying is that if I didn't ask and fucked you anyway and you said no then it doesn't count?'

Spencer took the smoke from between Floyd's fingers with his free hand. 'When has saying no under those circumstances ever made a difference?'

Floyd took the smoke back again, took a drag then placed it back between Spencer's lips. 'You look so fucking sexy laying there all bloody and mashed. You have no idea what it's doing to me.'

'I have a very good idea. Can you get the rest of this off me?'

'One last try… Spencer?'

'And it's still a resounding no. Get me out of here… please.'

It was with a heavy heart that Floyd got up and gestured for Sam to join him again. Floyd's plan was for him to lift the bit of wall and Sam to drag Spencer out. Sam stood with arms tight around his chest and a slight pout. 'Then we find the water pump?' He got a nod from Floyd and so with a sigh he took his eyes off the tiny bit of the pump he could see and crouched down in front of Spencer. 'Gimme ya hand. When you feel that wall being lifted squeeze my hand real tight and I'll pull. When you can, get your other hand out.'

Spencer didn't like this. Didn't like it one tiny bit. He could imagine Sam dragging him over sharp bits of things and tearing him open and not even bothering to stop. He would more likely choose the most uncomfortable path to drag him.

Floyd found the best place to get a grip. It wouldn't be possible to remove it, but he could lift it a bit and maybe not pop his intestines out of his arse with the effort. He told Sam that he was lifting on the count of three.

'One, two, three…'

Spencer's hand tightened on Sam's as Spencer felt the pressure finally lifting off his upper back and shoulders. Sam had suggested that they pull Spencer out in the other direction, feet first. 'Not so much to move that way.'

Floyd had punched Sam in the ear and told him that under no circumstance was he going to trust Sam to pull Spencer's head under that slab of stone. 'Rather his spine was broken than his head squashed.'

Such comforting words from Floyd, but maybe he meant well. He just had a very poor bedside manner. He'd have to remind Floyd never to become a doctor. The relief though when finally Sam let go of Spencer's hand and the crash of the rock fell behind Spencer was sublime. He would have jumped up and cried and pounded his fists on his chest with joy, but didn't. Couldn't. He just lay there grinning. 'Thank you, Sam.' Spencer put his hand out and touched Sam on the ankle.

It was as much as Sam could do not to turn and kick Spencer in the head and now Floyd was walking over looking all smug and picking up a bottle of water. Floyd sat with his legs crossed and pulled Spencer onto his lap and let him drink. Floyd had his boys back together again. The world or rather hell was once again a perfect place.

'So… you gonna put him down now and help?'

Floyd ignored Sam. He ran fingers over Spencer's dirty face. 'Thank you, Babes. Thank you for rescuing my sword. You should have been born an angel.'

Spencer drank back some water and spat some out as he rinsed out dust and sand. 'I was born a fool.' Spencer told Floyd. 'I'm just glad we are all together again. I hope it lasts more than one night this time.'

'Are – you – gonna – help!' Sam's voice was getting more demanding.

'No, Sam.' Floyd told him before things started to get thrown at him. 'I'm not going to help you. You are going to sit down and stop making such a fucking fuss. None of this shit would have happened if you'd not run off alone. Now you suffer the consequences.'

'You fucking said you'd get the pump working! You said you'd wash me and perform sexual favours.'

'Well yeah, might have, but I lied. You're going to have to stay smelling like that for now.'

Sam sat down and rubbed his sore eyes with his fingertips. 'I'll start on Ambrose then.'

But Floyd's mind had drifted again. He was stroking Spencer and looking at those big hazel eyes and that tongue which constantly licked his lips. He was looking at the little mole he had just above one eyebrow and the way his hair curled, very much like Adam's had, just enough to wind your fingers through.

'I'm going to eat Ambrose.' Sam insisted, but Floyd was running his thumb along the curve of Spencer's nose and Spencer was kissing Floyd's sore fingers better for him. 'You two are sick! You're gross! You're just horrible. No one wants to see you pawing each other like that.' But Sam didn't move to start butchering Ambrose. Actually Sam moved in a bit closer. 'You're like a couple of teenaged girls or like a couple of little faggy fuckers.' Still nothing from Floyd. 'I bet I can suck your fingers better than Spencer can.' Floyd lifted a hand towards Sam. 'They've got Spencer's lick all over them now. Fucking gross pig.' But he moved in even closer and took Floyd's hand and ran a tongue over the back of it. 'I just wanted a bath. I just… I just wanted to be clean.'

'Well come closer and get real dirty with us first. Have something worth washing off.' Floyd smirked at Sam who was slipping Floyd's fingers into his mouth and nibbling gently around the nails. 'I'll take all your aches and pains away with my magic semen.'

'You're an animal.' Sam mumbled around the fingers stuffed into his mouth.

'It's just like laying on hands but a lot more fun.' Floyd now gave Sam a genuine smile. Creepy… very creepy smile.

When you take into consideration that Spencer had spent the day stuck under a pile of stone, that Floyd had spent the day beating up on Sam, raping, almost dying and then doing his duty to make his boys feel good and when you consider that Sam was sulking for at least the first five minutes, the three of them actually enjoyed themselves. Well two of them did anyway, Spencer wasn't so sure about it. Though he'd had three way loving before, he still had the ugly idea that Sam was a kid and that was a bit off putting. Sam also wasn't so sure. He didn't mind watching Floyd and Spencer doing stuff because it was a good opportunity to bitch and moan… and Sam's arse was still sore and he was very smelling and a bit slimy now that sweat had joined all the other thing stuck to him… Floyd loved every prod and probe. He really could think of nothing better than being made happy by his boys and they were such loyal boys and such loving boys… and such experienced sluts… It amused Floyd that Sam would do the sluttiest thing he could think of, only to then get some extra special loving care from Spencer, which would then force Sam to do something even better… maybe to Spencer and not to him, but did that matter? They rolled around and knelt and lay and bucked and wriggled and howled and laughed and Floyd (just to make things more interesting when Sam seemed to be getting tired) called out Adam's name. Spencer didn't even notice, but the fingernails digging into Floyd's buttocks let him know that Sam had.

It was a dirty, messy, smelly, sweaty love session and when over and they were all three laying on their backs having a post coital smoke, Floyd didn't think he'd ever been happier or if things could have been more perfect.

Then Sam had to mouth off. Sam always had to mouth off. He could just leave things and be happy. 'I'm a better fuck than Spencer and so much better than Adam.'

'Adam was good. You weren't there. You only met him once, don't disrespect the kid. A nice tight little virgin.' Floyd sighed happily at the memory.

'You are such a nasty shit sometimes.' Sam moved away from Floyd. 'I'm going to eat some of Ambrose and then I'm going to try to get the water pump working. You just lay there with Spencer and think of Adam's tight arse. I'm sure Spencer will appreciate that.' Sam stood up, wobbled and then walked over to his bag, pulled out and knife and started to butcher Ambrose.

It wasn't something Spencer wanted any part of. Just hearing the noises Sam was making was turning his stomach. He'd had discussions with Floyd in the past about his eating habits. Illegal eating habits. Floyd always said that it wasn't how it looked. He wasn't actually human. It was no different from a dog eating a cat. It was how Floyd tried to reason what he did. Spencer didn't like it. Spencer hated it! But he'd never stop Floyd from following what he had to do.

Or was that just another excuse. Something to cover up the fact that he was totally and hopelessly in love with a murdering, cannibalistic, necrophile, who seemed to have a lust for young boys.

Floyd had moved over to the rubble again. He'd told Sam he'd get the water working and if he wasn't careful and if he kept letting Sam down he was going to lose the boy to someone else. He thought it unlikely, but it was very possible… Spencer watched Floyd pulling away the rocks for a while then went to join him. He ached, was sore and tired, but he needed questions answered. He helped Floyd move something out of the way then place a hand on Floyd's elbow. 'Tell me about Adam.'

Floyd frowned, brushed Spencer's hand away and shook his head. 'Nothing much to say really.'

'Then it wont take long.'

Floyd sat down and pulled out his hip flask, took a swig and handed it to Spencer. 'He was a nice boy who I took on a train ride. Funnily enough I was looking for Sam. He'd been sold by flesh traders and was on his way to a likely death. At least that's what I thought at first. As it turned out the person he'd been sold to was in fact my good old self. Never mind. Adam…

'You know if that guy hadn't insisted on playing a fucking harmonica and if that other bloke hadn't sung like he had been pissing glass then I'd not have done it. Adam was the only survivor, apart from myself. I was still in blood lust. I needed more. I took it. I then let Adam off at the next stop. That's about all.'

'Why did he kill Sam then? Something must have happened to make him do that.'

'Likely, but I dunno. You'll have to ask Sam. I wasn't there. I was… well… with The Old Woman, by then.'

'Dead.'

'Out of action. Yeah.'

'You loved the lad?' Spencer almost whispered his question.

'Infatuated. Look we have the pump almost out of the junk. Let's see if it does anything.'

It took half an hour of pumping the thing until a small trickle of water eventually appeared. Spencer wanted to just get Floyd to keep pumping and put his head under the lovely cool water, but he just wet his wrists and then turned to see what Sam was up to. He wished he'd not. It wasn't a memory Spencer wanted etched there forever, but he had a feeling it would be. It reminded Spencer of documentaries he'd seen of animals in Africa tearing into their catch. Sam had forgone the knife and was just head down eating directly off what was left of Ambrose.

Floyd saw Spencer turn to look and when he too saw what Sam was doing he placed a pacifying hand on Spencer's arm. 'Deal with it. You know what he's like.'

'But…'

'Deal with it. Wash your hair, keep pumping or something. I'll go get Sam.' Floyd could feel his mouth filling with drool at the sight of the food laying about a hundred foot away from them. There were bits splattered everywhere. Ribs, bits of yellow lumpy fat, stringy bits of ligament and chunks of skin… There was a twisted pile of ropy intestines thrown over where Ambrose once had a head.

Sam looked up and saw Floyd looking. He licked his lips and smiled. 'Tasty.' He breathed the word out. 'Orgasmic.' Sam added.

'Time for a bath.' Floyd smiled back. 'You are one hell of a messy eater.'

'None of his insides were where they should have been. Man was a walking freak. I got the heart though.'

Floyd nodded slowly. 'Wash.' He pointed at the pump which Spencer did now have his head under, one hand working the cranking handle.

They washed each other. Floyd washed Sam, Sam washed Floyd and then Floyd and Sam washed Spencer. Protests ignored and trousers down before he could say that he'd sooner wash in private. Though mouths stayed shut and butts remained mostly untouched (the occasional finger found its way somewhere interesting – at least Floyd found it interesting) it was still very oddly sexual. Sam didn't complain. Spencer didn't want to upset things now that they'd calmed down. Floyd loved every minute of it. His fucks were finally getting along and not trying to kill each other. The matter of Adam had for now at least been laid to rest and they had fresh food.

'I'm not eating it.'

'I cant cook it babes. There's nothing here to cook on.'

'It's not because it's raw. It's because it came from a being who could walk on two legs and talk in a language I could understand.'

Sam's mouth went tight. He hated these moral high grounds which Spencer took sometimes. 'He would have killed you.'

'He didn't. He let me go.' Spencer reminded him. 'But that's not the point. I have rations I can eat. I wouldn't appreciate the food you're offering, and as you made the kill and as it was to save Floyd… then you two share.' He attempted to make it look like he was being generous.

So Spencer nibbled on dry rations and tried to put out of his mind all those odd meals Floyd had cooked up for him, all those strange packs of meat he'd find in the kitchen, those grey, salty, lumpy soups Floyd would provide when he was feeling rough… he knew what he'd been eating. He could try to deny that all he wanted, but he knew. It had been him who had washed the blood off Floyd's clothes, who had cleaned up mess after mess and then lied to the police and to Hotchner even. Spencer knew what Floyd did when he made those dolls. He knew what skin Floyd used to make his little tobacco pouches and his belts and… Again Spencer tried to put it all out of his mind. If he thought about it too much he thought he'd go insane. Unless that had already happened. How could someone who had been hanging around with Floyd for half of his life stay sane? Not possible.

Floyd and Sam chatted happily to each other. Sam ignored Spencer because he had nothing apart from a dick and an arse in common with him, and Floyd thought Spencer looked like he needed some time to recover. But they weren't even out of the clearing area yet. They'd not started their real fight. Floyd had a deep feeling of doom. They weren't going to make it. They'd never get there. At least not all three of them. One of the three was going to be dead, very dead, long before the battle had even started.

'So…' Sam suddenly spoke up and looked over at Spencer. '… I need to say ta for getting me out of that place. Your words seemed to have worked.'

Spencer looked over at Sam who was squeaky clean and grinning. 'You are welcome, Sam.'

'Cos really you need to do that more often. We're a team. We need to fight shoulder to shoulder. Back to back… arse to arse and cock against stomach, cos that way we will be safer, you know?'

Spencer thought he understood the gist of what Sam was saying. 'It boils down to trust.' Spencer told him. 'You were foolish to run off alone. Maybe we have both learnt a lesson from this.'

Sam picked up a bit of blobby red stuff and stuffed it in his mouth. He gave Spencer a broad bloody grin.

o-o-o

Tragedy can draw people together. They give each other shoulder's to lean on. Screwing each other can have a similar effect. The bonding which had begun that day in a bunker under the desert just outside Vegas seemed to have finally completed. The days following the incident with the pump seemed so relaxed it was almost as though they were on one of Floyd's ideas of a vacation. Sometimes Floyd held Spencer's hand as they walked, sometimes it was Sam's. A few times Spencer took Sam's hand and it wasn't turned down. Spencer ignored the itch in the back of his head that it felt like Sam was the kid brother and he was walking him to school. You don't walk a bro to school and then… well you don't have sexual contact with a brother and so Spencer tried to push that feeling back. The trouble as Spencer could see it, was that he'd always been with older men… not much older, but a bit. They'd been there as a barrier; to protect. The bond he was forming with Sam was totally different. It seemed to be Sam who needed protecting.

So they walked now, Spencer with an arm over Sam's shoulder and Sam an arm around Spencer's waist and a thumb hooked in the band of Spencer's cords. 'I went there to kill him.' Sam piped up as they stood watching Floyd jump up and down on some silvery coloured beetles.

'Ambrose?' Spencer tightened his hold on Sam. A sympathy hug if you will.

'Adam. Floyd couldn't see past him. He was dying cos that's all he could think of… Adam's damned shitty hair which smelled of horses. He couldn't stop thinking about him, so to try to save Floyd I went to where Adam lived and I was prepared to kill him and his fucking arsehole family. Yeah, Floyd paid him off in blood money, but the fucker took it and spent it without any guilt. I was going to slit the shit's throat. I was going to urinate on his pretty damned sodding hair. But when I saw how pathetic he was and how broken he already was – no point in killing him. Getting to know Floyd the way he had is like a cancer. Eats away at you on the inside and eventually you become a monster like Floyd, or you top yourself… or in your case, both. I told him that I hated him. I told him that Floyd was mine and would never be his. I told him… I said I was going to kill him, but I wasn't. I turned to go back to my horse and the motherfucker shot me in the back with his dad's shotgun. Didn't even know there was one there. Then he walked over and put it to the back of my neck and fired the other barrel. Nearly took my head off. Killed me there in the sand. The fucker. So I don't have much love for him. I hate him from the top of my head to the tip of my sore toes. I can forgive people for doing shit, but not that.'

Spencer didn't know if he needed to ask more questions or if it was better to just stay silent, and as there seemed to be nothing to ask he did the latter.

'Bern though… yeah I admit I killed him. He deserved it. He really did. He was a nasty piece of work. A devious shit who had been following us. He wanted Floyd. He rubbed his cock against him and Floyd turned him down, but he wanted him. I could smell it on Bern and I knew that Floyd had said he'd protect him! So I had to get sneaky… so yes, I slit his throat when he was checking for traps and I don't regret it. He was a cannibal. He'd been eating his neighbours. Him and his sister lured us to their house and were going to eat us too. He needed to die.'

'You mix with nice people. You should hang out with my type more often.'

Sam snorted a laugh. 'Spencer, do you think we are going to survive? I mean right to the end. Are we going to get our dreams and our wishes?'

Spencer didn't think so. He didn't even think that there were dreams and wishes to be handed out. He looked over at Floyd who was now hopping around and scratching at the leg he wasn't standing on, and muttering under his breath. A bug had managed to get up the leg of his jeans. It was biting but causing no real damage, but it gave Spencer and Sam something to smile about.

'You think we're going to die.' Sam now said.

Spencer had hoped that Sam had been distracted by Floyd's dancing around and swearing. 'I don't know. I cant answer that. We've hardly seen anything yet and we've nearly died a few times already. It's not a good start. But I think it's shown us that we need to trust each other. We have to be able to do what you did with Adam and put our backs to each other and know that we wont get a bullet in the back. Part of this battle will be won then. I don't know what's going to happen, Sam and I don't know if we will survive, but I know that if I can trust you to cover my back and you can trust me and of course we both trust Floyd, we have at least a chance.'

'He's got us right where he wants us. He's a fucker is that Floyd.'

'Yes, he's got us where he wants us.'

'I fought it, but it's not so bad really. Wanna give me a blow while we wait for Floyd?' Sam asked.

'Probably would be better if we offered to help him.'

So many sweet and tender moments. Some worthy to be called chocolate box moments. There was Spencer slowly combing back Sam's hair and tying it back firmly for him. There was the time Spencer slipped and banged his elbow on the rocky floor and Sam gave it a long lick and a kiss better. There was that night when Spencer had fallen asleep, Sam curled up with him and dry humped him whilst Floyd sat scowling and smoking. There was the time that Sam, again curled up behind Spencer, slipped his hands down the front of Spencer's cords and gave him a wet dream.

There was the time that Sam told Spencer a really good joke and whilst they stood laughing, Sam ran his hands over Spencer's groin.

There was the time that Sam started to undo Spencer's shirt...

And Floyd ripped him back out of the way and threw him to the side.

'Fucking stop it! You pair of dirty sluts!'

Sam hunched over in a crouch and wrapped his arms around his shins. 'I was just getting friendly.'

'Floyd it was nothing, really.'

'Nothing? Nothing? He's been wanking you off in your sleep! He's been touching and feeling you up every fucking moment he gets! I understand that I wanted you two to get along, but for the love of virgins everywhere… there is a sodding limit to what I'm going to allow! Keep your hands to yourself Sam, and Spencer? Well… Get on your knees.'

Spencer raised an eyebrow. 'You exaggerate. Sam has done nothing of the sort. I would know if he…'

'Well obviously you didn't! There's bonding and there's fucking with my head. Sam, stop your game. Spencer… wake up and smell the fucking coffee will you! Why do you think you've been having wet dreams?'

Spencer went very pale… two bright red spots lit up the side of his face. He stuffed his hands into his pockets… 'I had a couple of – dreams. It was a dream.'

'It was Sam! He was wanking you off in your sleep and pleasuring himself by dry humping you. How can you not know that?'

Spencer sat on a nearby handy rock and put his hand out for a cheroot. It was becoming quite a habit. 'I trust that Sam wouldn't do such a thing. He'd not abuse my trust in that way. You're imagining it. Give me a smoke!' The last bit was snapped out in anger at Floyd.

'Sam… Tell Spencer what you've been doing.'

Sam cocked his head slightly to the side. 'I aint done nothing.'

Floyd pressed the heel of his hands against his eyes for a while and then threw a cheroot in Spencer's direction. 'This is what is going to happen. You two are going to listen to me and you are going to do what I tell you. I'm going to have to be as childish as you are, Sam and pull rank. I'm the oldest. You will do what I tell you to do. Understand? Good! Sam, when you snuggle up with Spencer during sleep time you will keep your hand off his prick.'

'But he loves it!' Sam wailed.

'Oh dear god…' Spencer moaned and sucked poison down into his lungs. 'Maybe it's best we don't snuggle?' He suggested.

'But I cant sleep if I'm alone. I need something to hold or something holding me.'

'Then sleep with me.' Floyd ordered. 'I'll not have these games carrying on under my nose. You're meant to cleave to me! What's wrong with that? Where's all the fucking cleaving gone? When did I last fuck either of you?'

'With me around, not even fucking him, but just touching him where I know he likes it best, just that… it's all he needs. He's the cheapest tart I've ever come across. What it boils down to Floyd is that Spencer would rather be wanked off by me in his sleep than be fucked by you.'