14
The cabin was tucked deep in the woods, surrounded by towering pines and thick blankets of snow that gleamed white under the moonlight.
The driveway had been plowed that morning, but fresh flakes were already covering the tire tracks from their arrival, erasing any evidence that anyone had come this way.
Spencer stood at the window and watched the snow fall, his breath fogging the cold glass.
The world outside was silent and white and peaceful, a perfect cocoon separating them from everything else.
Layton came up behind him and wrapped his arms around his waist, pulling Spencer back against his chest. His lips found Spencer's neck, pressing soft kisses along the curve of his shoulder. "You okay?"
Spencer leaned back into him, letting himself be held. "I'm perfect. I've never been better."
Zavier walked over with three glasses of champagne, the golden liquid bubbling and catching the firelight. He handed one to Spencer and one to Layton, then raised his own. "To us. To finally being free."
They clinked glasses and drank. The champagne was cold and crisp and perfect, the bubbles fizzing in Spencer's chest and mixing with the warmth of being surrounded by the two men he loved.
He looked at them both, at the way the firelight danced across their faces, at the love in their eyes, and he felt like he might burst from the sheer joy of it.
Layton set down his glass and took Spencer's hand, pulling him toward the fireplace.
The fire was crackling and popping, casting warm orange light across the room.
The rug was thick and soft beneath their feet, a deep burgundy color that seemed to glow in the flames.
Zavier followed them, his hand finding the small of Spencer's back.
Layton said, "I've been waiting for this. I've been waiting to have you both alone, with no one watching, no one judging. Just us."
Zavier said, "Me too. I've been dreaming about this since the first time I saw you, Spencer. Since the first time I watched you skate onto that ice."
Spencer's heart was pounding so hard he could feel it in his throat.
He had been dreaming about this too. He had been dreaming about it since the first time he had seen them, since the first time he had felt the pull between them, that magnetic force that had drawn them together despite all their fighting and fear.
Layton reached out and cupped Spencer's face, his palm warm and rough against Spencer's cheek.
His thumb traced Spencer's cheekbone, featherlight and tender.
"You're so beautiful. I've wanted to tell you that since the day you walked into the locker room, since the moment you looked at me with those dark eyes and didn't flinch. "
Spencer's eyes burned with unshed tears. "You hated me then."
"I was scared," Layton admitted, his voice raw and honest. "I was scared of how much I wanted you. I was scared of what it meant. I didn't know how to handle it, so I pushed you away. I tried to hurt you before you could hurt me."
Zavier stepped closer, his body pressing against Spencer's back. His hands found Spencer's hips, his thumbs stroking circles through the fabric of his shirt. "We both did. We were both terrified. But we're not scared anymore. We're done running."
Spencer said, "I'm not scared either. Not with you. Not with both of you. For the first time in my life, I'm not afraid."
Layton leaned in and kissed him. It was soft at first, gentle and questioning, like he was asking permission.
Then it deepened, becoming hungry and desperate, all the longing and the fear and the love pouring into that single point of contact.
Spencer melted into it, his hands coming up to tangle in Layton's hair, pulling him closer.
Zavier's lips found Spencer's neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along his pulse point. His teeth grazed Spencer's skin, just enough to make him shiver. Spencer could feel both of them, could feel their love surrounding him, consuming him. He was exactly where he was supposed to be.
Layton pulled back, his breathing ragged. His eyes were dark with want, pupils blown wide. "I want to worship you. Both of you. I want to show you how much I love you. I want to take my time and touch every inch of you until you can't remember your own name."
Zavier's voice was low and rough against Spencer's ear. "We both do. We want to take our time. We want to taste every part of you. We want to make you feel so good that you forget there's a world outside this cabin."
Spencer's knees went weak. He was trembling, his body thrumming with need. "Please. I want that. I want everything. I want you both so badly it hurts."
They moved to the rug in front of the fire. The flames danced and crackled, casting shifting shadows across their bodies. Spencer lay down on his back, the thick pile of the rug soft beneath him, and looked up at Layton and Zavier. They were both so beautiful. Both so completely his.
Layton knelt beside him, his eyes roaming over Spencer's body with naked hunger.
His hands found the buttons of Spencer's shirt, undoing them one by one with deliberate slowness.
Each button revealed another inch of skin, and Layton pressed his lips to each patch as it was exposed.
His mouth was hot and soft and perfect, trailing fire across Spencer's chest.
Zavier knelt on Spencer's other side, his hands finding Spencer's belt.
He unbuckled it with careful precision, pulling the leather free and discarding it.
His fingers worked the button of Spencer's jeans, sliding the zipper down.
He pulled the denim down Spencer's legs, his lips following the path of the fabric, kissing Spencer's hip, his thigh, the sensitive skin of his inner leg.
Spencer's body arched toward them, craving more contact. He was trembling, every nerve ending on fire. "Please," he gasped. "I need more. I need you."
Layton said, "You're perfect. Every inch of you. I want to memorize every part of your body."
Zavier said, "We're going to worship you. Every part of you. All night long. We're going to make you feel so loved that you forget anyone ever hurt you."
Spencer reached for them both, his hands finding their shoulders, pulling them closer. "I want to touch you too. I want to feel you. I want to taste you."
Layton leaned down and kissed him, deep and consuming. Zavier kissed his neck, his shoulder, his collarbone. Their hands were everywhere, exploring, teasing, mapping every curve and plane of his body. They moved together, synchronized, like they had done this a thousand times.
Layton moved lower, kissing down Spencer's chest, his stomach, his hips.
His tongue traced the ridges of Spencer's abdomen, dipping into his navel.
Zavier moved with him, his lips trailing along Spencer's side, his ribs, his shoulder.
They were a unit, a single entity focused entirely on Spencer's pleasure.
Layton looked up, his eyes dark and hungry. "Tell me what you want, Spencer. Tell me what you need."
Spencer's voice was wrecked, barely above a whisper. "Everything. I want everything. I want your mouth on me. I want your hands on me. I want to be surrounded by you."
Layton didn't hesitate. He took Spencer into his mouth, hot and wet and perfect.
Spencer cried out, his hips jerking off the rug.
The heat was overwhelming, the suction, the perfect pressure.
Zavier's hand found Spencer's chest, his fingers finding his nipple, pinching and rolling it.
The dual assault left Spencer trembling, drowning in sensation.
Layton worked him deep, his tongue swirling around the head, his hand stroking what his mouth couldn't reach. He moved with a rhythm that was driving Spencer insane, building the pleasure higher and higher. Spencer's hands fisted in Layton's hair, holding on for dear life.
Zavier leaned down and kissed Spencer, swallowing his moans. His hand moved down Spencer's body, his fingers finding Spencer's entrance, circling it with teasing pressure. Spencer gasped into Zavier's mouth.
Zavier pulled back, his eyes searching Spencer's face. "Is this okay? Do you want more?"
Spencer nodded frantically. "Yes. Please. I need more."
Zavier's fingers found the small bottle of lube they had brought, slicking himself up.
He was careful, so careful, working Spencer open slowly, patiently.
One finger, then two, then three, stretching him with reverent attention.
Spencer moaned, the feeling of being filled, being prepared, exquisite.
Layton pulled off Spencer's cock with a wet sound, his lips shiny and swollen. He watched Zavier's fingers disappear into Spencer, his own hand stroking himself. "Look at you," he breathed. "So beautiful. So perfect. Taking him so well."
Zavier said, "Tell me if it hurts. Tell me if you want me to stop. We're not going to rush this."
Spencer said, "Don't stop. Please don't stop. I need you inside me. I need to feel you."
Zavier positioned himself between Spencer's thighs, his cock pressing against Spencer's entrance. He pushed in slowly, inch by thick inch, giving Spencer time to adjust. Spencer cried out, the stretch burning in the best way. He was so full, so completely filled.
Layton moved up to kiss Spencer, swallowing his moans. His hand found Spencer's cock, stroking in time with Zavier's movements. The dual sensations were overwhelming. Spencer was drowning in them, in the feeling of being so completely wanted.
Zavier began to move, his thrusts slow and deep and perfect. He hit that spot inside Spencer with every stroke, sending sparks of pleasure through his body. Spencer's hands found Zavier's shoulders, his nails digging in.
Layton pulled back, his eyes fixed on where Zavier disappeared inside Spencer. "Fuck. You're so beautiful like this. Taking him. Taking us."
Spencer reached for him desperately. "I want you too. I want you inside me. Please. I need both of you."