Chapter 10
No lube.
The realization hits me like a bucket of cold water. That’s when the memory surfaces. Milo at Mitchell’s, holding up a bottle, me shaking my head.
Shit.
“I’m the one who said not to buy it,” I groan.
“We’ll figure something out,” Tanner says from underneath me. I shift my weight off him, and he turns toward me. “There’s got to be an alternative.”
Milo looks at Tanner. “You didn’t bring any?”
Tanner’s eyebrows knit together as he tilts his head. “Why would I have lube in the middle of the woods?”
“You should’ve come prepared,” Milo counters.
“Sorry, next time I go hiking I’ll pack for an impromptu threesome.”
“And yet,” Milo gestures at our naked bodies, “here we are.”
“And here we’ll stay unless someone gets creative,” I interject, “Between the two of you, there has to be a solution.”
“Spit?” Tanner suggests with half a smirk.
I give him a once-over. “Have you looked at yourself lately?”
“Pretty impressive, right?”
“Don’t encourage him,” Milo groans.
“Please,” Tanner says, practically preening. “I’ve been living with this my whole life. My ego’s bulletproof at this point.”
“Listen,” I interrupt, “this flirting is adorable, but if someone doesn’t fuck me soon, I’m gonna crash out.”
That gets everyone moving.
Milo unzips the tent with military precision, one eye squinting into the darkness beyond.
He slips out naked into the night, moonlight painting his bare skin silver as the tent flap falls closed behind him.
Tanner gives an appreciative whistle. “Brave man.”
“If he comes back with pine sap, I’m out,” I say
Tanner shifts closer, nudging me aside , then slips out from beneath me. In one quick motion, he’s over me again, pressing me down into the sleeping bag.
The heat of his breath ghosts across my mouth. He hovers there, close enough that I can feel the shape of his smile without actually seeing it.
“You need it bad, don’t you?” he whispers against my skin.
The slight brush of his nose, his lips teasing at the edge of mine.
A dozen comebacks die in my throat. I manage only a jerky nod, embarrassingly eager.
Tanner chuckles. “Thought so.
The sound of breaking twigs and shifting stones draws our attention to the entrance as Milo’s shadow reappears.
“Here,” he says. “Tanner, lube up.”
He extends his hand into the tent, palm cupped. In the darkness, I can’t see what’s coating it. I can only hear the faint, wet squish as he curls his fingers.
Tanner’s eyes narrow. “What is that?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Milo replies with suspicious haste.
Tanner rises to his knees, his body silhouetted against the tent wall. Milo’s hand finds him without hesitation.The moment contact happens, Tanner’s entire frame goes rigid, jolting like he’s been tased. Breath caught somewhere between a gasp and a moan.
“Christ,” he gasps. “That’s fucking cold. What is that?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Milo repeats, his voice forcibly casual as his hand continues its slow motion.
I lever myself up, straining to see in the dimness. “What is it really?”
“It’ll work. Don’t ask questions, Nate.”
“If it’s going in my ass, I’m going to ask questions, Milo.”
The tent fills with tense silence until Tanner breaks it. “Why is it so...”
“So what?” Milo’s asks defensively.
“Gelatinous?” Tanner’s face scrunches in bewilderment.
The word lingers between us, ominous and unsettling. Tanner can likely feel my unease in the tension of my body, because he glances back at me, face instantly transforming into something reassuring.
“Not that it won’t work. It’s still very... smooth. Glideable, if you will.”
“Glideable,” I echo, deadpan.
His attention shifts to Milo, eyes narrowing. “Seriously, why is it cold? Is it from the cooler?”
Milo releases a measured breath through flared nostrils, “It’s... a substance.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s soothing,” Milo offers. “Technically.”
“Did you say technically,” I ask, eyes narrowed.
“Yes... technically.”
“Milo, tell me what it is,” I demand. “Please don’t make me beg while your hand is full of mystery goo.”
His shoulders drop with his deep exhale. “Do you trust me?”
I’ve shared birthday cakes and broken bones with him since we were six. Trust isn’t even a question.
He inches closer, gaze never leaving mine as his hand abandons Tanner and finds me instead. The moment his slick fingers trace my entrance, electricity shoots through me. A ripple that curls my toes and steals my breath mid-inhale.
Tanner wasn’t lying. The chill surprises at first contact, but then transforms, melting into something that wakes every nerve ending it touches. My skin hums with it.
“There it is,” Milo whispers.
My only answer is a desperate nod.
When he pushes inside, there’s no resistance. Only a perfect, impossible slide of skin against skin. Whatever mystery substance coats his fingers performs small miracles as he works deeper.
“Seriously, what did you…“
The question dissolves into sound as he crooks his finger finding that spot that makes my vision blur at the edges.
My spine arches off the ground of its own accord.
Then Tanner’s mouth descends, hot and wet around me, his tongue tracing patterns around my cock that make coherent thought impossible.
I’m spiraling toward the edge so fast I couldn’t care less what slick substance is easing the way.
“You really want to know?” Milo’s voice has dropped an octave. “It’s safe, it’s effective, and…” he hesitates, “…telling you might kill the mood.”
Another finger joins the others. The burn of stretching transforms into liquid heat as he works me open with methodical patience, each thrust reaching deeper.
“God, Nate,” he breathes against my ear. “The way you’re opening up for us... for Tanner... for both of us, maybe...”
Tanner’s approving moan vibrates through me, and I can’t hold back the broken sound that escapes me as my hips stutter upward, thighs quivering.
“Tell me,” I gasp between shallow breaths, eyes shut tight as sensation crashes over me in relentless waves.
Milo hesitates. Even lost in sensation, I feel the subtle tension in his touch, the way his movements falter. He’s guarding something, preparing for my reaction.
Then I sense the moment he relents. The pump slows until it’s torturous.
“Remember those, um, refried beans from dinner?”
My eyes snap open. Tanner’s mouth is suddenly gone, leaving me cold.
Milo’s gaze darts between us. “The leftover beans were still warm by the fire, and when they cool down, that liquid on top gets this consistency that—“
“BEAN GOOP?!” The words tear from my throat, colliding with a moan as his fingers find that perfect spot inside me.
My outrage dissolves into something embarrassingly needy.
“Exactly,” he confirms without a hint of shame. “It thickens up perfectly. Obviously it works. Judging by the mess you’re making on yourself right now, you’re not exactly complaining.”
Tanner’s gaze drops to my stomach, his expression sharpening into something almost clinical. Then he glances toward the tent flap, where the remains of dinner sit beyond the canvas.
“We need to clean that up,” he says. “It’ll attract bears.”
“Focus,” Milo commands, working deeper, finding an angle that makes my vision blur. “He’s close. Bears can wait.”
The absurdity hits me all at once. I’m about to get fucked with refried bean juice as lube. Yet when I look between Milo and Tanner, their faces flushed and waiting, something settles in my chest. These are my people. We’ve always figured things out together.
Maybe we’re supposed to reach for what we want with whatever we have.
The perfect moment doesn’t exist. What exists can be messy and unexpected and ridiculous and somehow, sometimes, that’s still exactly what you need.
Maybe that’s the point.
Take the imperfect offering with both hands and say yes anyway.
I let out a sigh and manage a shaky grin. “See. You’re resourceful, after all.”
Milo’s expression brightens instantly. He withdraws his fingers, leaving behind a hollow ache, before capturing my mouth with his.
“Your turn,” he murmurs to Tanner.
As Tanner moves between my legs, I feel blunt pressure as he positions himself. I watch his teeth catch his lower lip in concentration. There’s the slightest pause, then chest rising with a deep breath he begins to press forward.
The improvised slickness works. The stretch burns less than I expected, transforming into a deep, satisfying fullness.
I can’t help the broken sound that escapes me as my body yields, accepting him gradually. The intensity has me clutching at the sleeping bag, anchoring myself against waves of sensation.
“Eyes on me,” Milo whispers against my temple.
I turn to find his gaze holding mine with quiet intensity.
Milo’s hand slips to my chest, palm splayed as if to hold me together while Tanner rocks forward, each careful movement deeper than the last.
I feel myself accepting him inch by inch until finally there’s nothing left to take. All that’s left is the warm press of his body flush against mine, the tickle of coarse hair where we’re completely joined.
The first full thrust is so deep it knocks the air out of me. The next is a grind, every drag and push amplified by how desperate I am and how long I’ve wanted this.
Tanner leans forward, bracing himself with one hand and using the other to hook behind my knee, pulling my leg up to widen me for him.
Milo’s thumb finds my nipple and circles, then pinches, making me whine. With his other hand, Milo reaches out and takes Tanner by the hip, urging him deeper, setting a rhythm.
They’re working together in a wordless understanding from years of shared rooms and shared secrets and all the things we never said but always meant.
Tanner’s voice is barely more than a growl next to my ear. “You okay?”
“Fuck. Yes,” I say accentuating each word in time with a thrust.
His smile flashes white in the dim light. My leg drops free as his arms encircle me completely. With surprising strength, he rolls us both, a fluid motion that keeps us connected even as our positions reverse.