Liked It

Blink had to find Race, because Race had been trying to find Dash for two week to collect what he was owed, and Dash had finally figured he'd given up and actually showed his face at the lodging house. Jack was keeping him busy so he couldn't dash again, but that meant finding Race pretty darned quick, and no one had any idea where he'd gotten off to. It was hot enough outside that the lodging house was mostly deserted, but it seemed like a likely place to look. Blink glanced in and found Skittery reading a surprisingly thick book next to the window, enjoying the last of the sunlight. "Skitts," Blink demanded, "you seen Race come in here?"

Skittery looked up, gave him that bored look that Skittery permanently wore, and said, "Yeah, a little while ago. Went upstairs. I wouldn't bother him, though."

Right. For someone who always pretended to be so... What Race called him? Aloof? For someone who always acted so aloof, Skittery was an awful gossip and everyone knew it. "Why's that?" Blink asked.

"Spot was with him." Skittery shrugged. "Said they had some important business. And since I ain't heard nothing about it but I guess it brought Spot all the way from Brooklyn, you probably don't want to go sticking your nose in."

Blink stuck his hands in his pockets. "You really don't know what they're talkin' about, or you just don't wanna say?"

Skittery made a face that almost resembled a smile. "No idea. They sure went upstairs in a hurry, though."

Blink frowned. On the one hand, Spot Conlon meant serious business; on the other hand, Jack could only keep Dash busy for so long, and Race would kill him if Dash got away. He looked up the stairs towards the bunkroom and hesitated. He'd only need a second, and then Race could decide for himself if he wanted to go collect from Dash... And anyway, since when did Spot have big business with Race? They'd been friendly enough since the strike, but Spot probably just wanted a card game or something.

So Blink went upstairs and looked around through the bunkrooms and didn't find them. Or anyone. Well -- not finding anyone else wasn't a huge shock, warm as it was inside, and especially if Skittery was sitting downstairs scaring people off. But unless Skittery had been having some fun with Blink, Spot and Race should've been around somewhere. He kicked at a spare sock that was lying on the floor. Skittery had a weird sense of humor, but Blink didn't get the joke. And it hadn't sounded like Skittery was joking, anyhow.

He glanced at the window, but it was closed and coated in its usual layer of grime. If they'd gone out it, he couldn't tell. He checked the bathroom, but it was also deserted. There just wasn't anywhere else to go in the bunkroom floor. And the only other way out was up to the attic, but there was nothing up there but old furniture and some crates of winter blankets, waiting for the seasons to change.

He wouldn't have bothered checking, but figured it couldn't hurt. At least that way, he'd be able to tell Race he'd really looked for him. So he pushed open the door that blocked off the stairwell to the attic and made his way up. There was another one at the top, this one slightly open. Surprised, Blink opened it further and walked in, and saw Spot and Race pressed up against each other against the back wall, kissing. Spot's suspenders were undone and Race's shirt was unbuttoned and hanging off his shoulders, revealing a sweat-stained undershirt. And Spot -- Spot had a hand on Race's groin.

Blink gaped for a long second, then said, "What the hell?"

They broke apart immediately, and Blink could see that Race's belt was undone, too. Though he buckled it up quickly, not looking up at Blink. Who just stared. Because -- because this was -- well, boys just didn't do this, they weren't supposed to, and -- even if Blink had more than occasionally thought about boys and bodies and skin, boys weren't supposed to think those things. And especially not do them, not with each other, anyways. And Spot and Race... Spot and Race, for Christ's sake!

"Blink," Race said, and his voice sounded a little...husky, kind of, and Blink actually liked the way it sounded.

"You wasn't supposed to see that," Spot said unnecessarily. Even Blink had realized that.

"I'll just -- I'll go downstairs and, and wait for you two to be done, and, um -- "

"You ain't going nowhere," Spot said.

For a second, a jolt of excitement ran through Blink as he thought about Spot and Race kissing and wondered if -- but that wasn't what Spot meant, he had his I-mean-business voice on. "Uh... yeah, okay," Blink finally said.

"Come here," Spot said, then, "What did you see?"

"I -- I didn't see nothing!" Blink blurted, which seemed like the smart response.

"I said come here," Spot snapped.

Blink practically tripped over his own feet moving forward. The attic was actually pretty spacious, but it felt very small, with just the three of them and neither Spot nor Race really properly clothed. Blink halted in front of them. Race was staring at the floor shame-facedly, but Spot glared defiantly at Blink.

"What did you see?" Spot demanded again.

"Nothing, I swear! I just -- you and Race were -- it ain't none of my business!"

"No kidding," Spot murmured.

"Spot, come on," Race said quietly. "He'll keep his mouth shut."

"Yeah," Blink said quickly.

Spot sneered and Blink trembled. Not from fear, exactly, even though he should have been afraid. But it just felt...unreal, a little. Spot and Race kissing. How could it be real?

"With a big mouth like his? Even I know the kid can't keep a secret," Spot said.

"This one, he can," Race answered.

Blink nodded quickly. "I ain't -- I didn't see nothing, but I wouldn't tell no one if I had seen something, but I didn't."

Spot reached out lightning-quick and grabbed his shirt, dragged him forward. Blink lost his balance and teetered for a second. "Well, you obviously saw something," Spot said, leaning into his face, almost nose-to-nose, "and I don't trust you not to blab it." He glanced at Race. "Maybe I should soak 'im, just to be sure."

Blink winced but didn't try and pull out of Spot's grasp.

"Spot, no," Race said. "Blink says he won't tell no one, and he won't!"

"How can you be positive about that?" Spot asked calmly. "I don't exactly like promises with no proof."

"Blink ain't gonna tell no one 'cause -- 'cause he..." Race trailed off unsurely. Blink was glad Race had faith in him -- he did have a bit of a blabbermouth sometimes, but he'd never tell something like this, and he was glad Race knew it. And not just because he didn't want to get soaked.

"'Cause what?" Spot sneered.

"I...liked..." Blink whispered unsurely. His face felt hot and he was aware that Spot was still leaning down in his face, and he thought of the way Spot had been kissing Racetrack and his whole body started to heat up.

"What?" Spot demanded. "What did you say?"

"I -- I liked it," Blink said quietly. "What I saw."

"Blink?" Race asked incredulously, but Blink didn't get to answer him because Spot hauled him by the collar again, this time around, and he slammed Blink into the wall next to Race. It hurt, and it knocked the wind out of him, but before he had a chance to inhale like he needed to, Spot kissed him.

It was kind of funny, actually, because Spot kissed like he did everything else. Furiously. Hard. Blink's whole body went stiff with shock, but the heat began to intensify a little bit. Because he'd kissed some girls, but they were all soft and clean and not like this. Spot finally pulled away and let go of his shirt. Race mumbled, "Jesus, Spot... Blink..."

Blink didn't answer because for once he couldn't think of anything to say. He was having trouble thinking of anything at all, really. Except Spot: the knot of Spot's hand and fabric against his chest, Spot's chapped lips against his own, the warmth of Spot's body pressed tight to his. And then Spot reached out again, lower this time, and stuck his hand right between Blink's thighs, cupped his hand over Blink's shaft. Blink let out a noise that was almost a whine, and couldn't stop himself. He thrust ever so slightly forward against Spot's hand, desperate for more contact.

Spot chucked and dropped his hand. "What do you know," he said, almost drolly now. "He does like it."

"Blink...?" Race repeated.

Blink blinked, trying to focus a little. Spot was still standing close in front of him, but he turned his head and saw Race, too. Race, who had been kissing Spot. And who now looked worried, maybe worried about him. Which there was no need for, because even though Blink had walked in with no idea what was going on, he had figured out all kinds of fascinating things in the last minute or two. "Race," Blink said, and when he couldn't figure out a way to explain anything, he simply turned slightly towards Race and kissed him.

Race's eyebrows shot up almost comically, but he snaked an arm around Blink's shoulder to pull him closer and kiss back. And this didn't feel angry like being kissed by Spot had, but it felt damn good.

"Hey," Spot snapped. "Hey!"

Race pulled away and Blink missed him immediately. But then Spot was there too, the three of them huddled together tightly, and Spot kissed Race and Blink almost moaned watching it. How had this never occurred to him before? Surely if he had thoughts about boys sometimes, other boys did too, and... Well, this, the three of them, he'd never imagined that, but this was much better than imagining things.

Blink didn't know what to do and liked what he saw, but didn't want to be left out. But before he could say or do anything, Spot broke away from Race and looked at Blink, then smirked. He put a hand on the back of Blink's neck and pushed down a little. Not hard, but enough for Blink to get the idea.

"Oh," Blink murmured, suddenly thinking that Spot was some kind of genius. He sank down to his knees and reached out, hooked his arms between his friends' legs, drawing them closer. He could feel it now, and see hard imprints against their trousers. Spot leaned into him and he could feel the warmth of Spot's bulge and the cold metal of Spot's belt buckle and he almost whimpered, wanting it, but Spot drew away and Race pressed up in his place. And Blink wasn't picky, he wanted either of his friends, wanted them both, didn't care which. He watched as Spot's hands undid Race's belt and pants, pushed them and his longjohns down. And Blink didn't need any further prompting.

Blink leaned forward, mouth open, and took Race's shaft into his mouth. Race actually quivered a tiny bit and Blink felt him lean against the wall for support. Spot moved but Blink was too busy, focused, to pay much attention. He reached for Race, wrapped his arms around Race's back and pulled him closer, wanting more and taking it. He bobbed his head quickly, again and again, and Race began to thrust back against him, into his mouth. His cock slid easily, and Blink leaned forward, greedy, to try and take more.

But Race was distracted for a moment, because Spot was kissing him again. Spot stood behind Blink now, his legs tight at Blink's back, and he leaned in above Blink's head to kiss Race. Blink paused for a moment to look up, and saw that Spot was looking down, watching him suck Race's shaft.

"Don't stop," Spot told him, but as Blink started again, Spot reached down, grabbed his hair and yanked his head back. It hurt for a second and left him gaping upwards, mouth open. He saw Race's cock there, above his mouth, and wanted it. He stuck his tongue out, licked it, and Race moaned. "He wants it Race, come on," Spot said, almost laughing.

"Mmm," Blink agreed, not quite able to talk, especially not with the angle Spot had pulled his neck into.

"Well," Race said, looking down, "if you want to."

"Race!" Blink managed to croak, desperate. Desperate in many ways, now: desperate to get Race back in his mouth, desperate to feel Spot, too, and desperate for someone to take care of his growing -- hardening -- needs.

Race took pity and guided himself back to Blink's mouth, just a little. Just the head. With Spot holding his head back, Blink couldn't move to take the rest, so he tightened his lips instead and sucked in. "Oh, Jesus," Race mumbled, and slowly slid a little further in, panting hard. Blink swirled his tongue around the head of Race's cock, and Race trembled again, clenched Blink's shoulders with both hands, and began to thrust. Slowly at first, then quicker and more decisively. Blink loved it, feeling Race's body so close to his face, being able to smell musk and sweat. And he became aware of a second heat, near the back of his head. Spot, still gripping his hair, keeping him still and open for Race. Still watching, obviously still enjoying what he saw. And Blink wanted that, too, not sure how.

Race sped up, moaning and somehow, impossibly, growing harder. Blink pulled forward to try and meet his thrusts but Spot yanked him back and he felt that reminder again, that heat behind him, pressed against him. Spot still had his trousers on, that didn't seem fair somehow, but Blink couldn't think of a damn thing to do about it from his position. So he felt both relieved and robbed when Spot said, "Wait, Race, hold it -- stop, goddamnit," and Race reluctantly stopped. But didn't pull out -- his cock was still between Blink's lips, and Blink swirled his tongue over it again. Race moaned again.

"Both of you, Jesus," Spot snapped, yanking Blink's head back. Race pulled away this time and Blink couldn't take his eye off of Race's shaft, so close to him.

But Spot released him, finally, and Blink could feel Spot hurriedly pulling his own trousers off, and decided to follow suit, because damn, but his pants had become uncomfortable. He moved clumsily to undo his belt, get his clothing off, and as he did that, Spot imposed himself where Race had been.

Blink stared. Spot was bigger, maybe not as wide, but large. And no sooner had Blink opened his mouth than Spot was there, hands on Blink's shoulder pulling him forward, thrusting so deep Blink thought he might gag. Blink glanced at Race, standing near, stroking himself, and felt a twang below his belt. He really, really needed someone down there, and since neither of his friends really moved to offer, Blink did it himself, amazed at how much more deft his hand felt now that he had other people with him.

But Spot only stayed for a few more strokes, then pulled away entirely. Blink looked at Race, expecting him back, but instead Spot said, "Stand up, come on."

Surprised, confused, Blink did so, almost stumbling. Race steadied him with a hand, then slid his hand down Blink's side -- Blink wished he'd gotten his shirt off, too, but Race didn't seem to care. He slid a hand over where Blink had been stroking himself and Blink groaned.

But Spot grabbed his other shoulder and wheeled him around so he faced the rest of the room. It was just boxes and broken furniture, and Spot nearly dragged him to an old stuffed chair, dirty and frayed and stained. Blink watched, confused and cold with no one touching him, as Spot pushed the chair over on its side. But then Spot grabbed for him, pulled him forward, and said, "Lean over it."

Half-understanding, Blink did so, crouching at one side of the chair and sprawling across it, shoulders hanging off the front. He braced his hands against the floor, glanced back at Race and Spot. Spot gestured and Race hesitated, then nodded and moved around in front of Blink, who was now lower than he'd been just on his knees, so Race knelt in front of him to even out their heights. Blink gave him a smug grin and Race shot a smile back at him, so Blink reached up to wrap a hand around Race's shaft, planning to guide it back to his mouth, but Race pulled back.

Blink was startled, but then felt Spot behind him and looked over his shoulder. Spot was kneeling too, and he pressed close behind Blink. Blink gasped a little, feeling Spot's shaft against his bare skin, rubbing up and down, slightly slick from Blink's own saliva. But then Spot paused and pushed forward and Blink let out a surprised yelp without meaning to. Spot froze and Blink blinked, then took a deep breath. It hurt, but -- but at the same time, it felt like a jolt of pure heat shot across Blink's body, up his spine and back down to his dick.

"Oh," he managed, and actually wormed back a little, the rough texture of the fabric rubbing against his dick and making things warmer and more intense still.

"Yeah?" Spot said. "More?"

"Yeah," Blink croaked. "More."

He watched a little longer as Spot slowly pushed further. In front of him, Race murmured, "Relax, Blink. Relax." Blink tried, but realized he was making himself more tense. So instead he looked away and concentrated on the feeling of Spot's hands as they snaked up under his shirt to grab his sides, holding himself steady. And he felt a little better, and Spot moved a little easier, and it hurt less. So looked up at Race.

"You okay?" Race asked.

Blink nodded. "Yeah, I just -- ohhh." Because Spot had moved up or down or something, and it abruptly hurt a lot less and felt a lot better. "Spot," he croaked, overwhelmed. Spot was inside him. Blink felt hot and full and so intensely hard it almost hurt, but whatever Spot was doing he was awfully damn good at it, because Blink also felt a little like his limbs were melting, made of molasses and slowly giving out. He braced one hand on the floor and let the chair take most of his weight, and finally looked back up at Race. With his free hand, he guided Race back to his mouth; Race obligingly moved closer, let himself in deeper. He buried his hands in Blink's hair, not yanking like Spot had, but holding firm.

He still felt Spot behind him, in him, thrusting more certainly now. And with every stroke he bobbed his head, with Race thrusting in response. And with every stroke, he thrust ever so slightly against the chair beneath him, feeling the friction building up. His whole body was hot now and molten and he'd never been so hard, never felt like this. He shut his eyes and imagined it, what it looked like with Race in his mouth and Spot up behind him and himself stretched between them, open to them.... Oh.

"Shit, Blink!" Race said abruptly, and as Race thrust forward this time Blink felt and tasted as he came. He swallowed hard and waited for more but Race started to pull away, momentarily spraying against Blink's cheek. But Blink reached for him, pulled Race back towards him and in and swallowed again and again.

After Race finished, falling back in a heap for a few seconds, Blink sagged a little in place as if he and not Race had just finished off, but now he could actually concentrate fully on Spot behind him. He began to buck backwards to meet Spot's thrust and Spot grunted, grabbing his sides harder. With Spot on the backstroke and still rubbing his now-achingly-hard shaft against the chair, he felt himself so close. Race settled in front of him again to kiss him this time, then pushed him up a little so he wasn't leaning across the chair anymore. Spot adjusted, wrapping his arms around Blink's torso, holding their bodies close together. Blink again hated that they were still clothed above the waist, but couldn't worry about it too much because now Race moved and had room to get a hand between Blink and the chair. Blink gasped and then moaned and Race's ink-stained hand grasped his shaft and began to tug up and down. It was much, much better than the chair.

The heat inside him built and he let out a moan, not quite a word, but Spot snarled, "Not yet," in his ear and Race stilled his hand. Blink actually heard himself whine at the loss. But Spot's hands slid lower, his fingers pressed hard against Blink's pelvis and he felt Spot adjust again -- and then it was something else entirely and Blink didn't know why, but he felt a sudden surge inside him and moaned loudly, amazed. He was completely overwhelmed, like his limbs were melting again. He almost collapsed forward, but Race caught him, held him up, and put his hand back where Blink wanted it.

"Spot," Blink gasped.

"Not yet," Spot answered, and began to pull out further on each thrust, pushing back in quicker, harder. Blink sagged against Race, overwhelmed. Race began to move his hand further up and down, gripping firmly and building up even more heat on Blink's skin.

"Spot," Blink pleaded again, not sure how long he could hold out for. Race leaned in and kissed him, still working his hand around Blink's shaft, and Blink nibbled at his lip.

"Now," Spot said abruptly.

Blink let go and finally gave in to the feelings and let them overwhelm him completely. That thick, molasses heat moved through his body and he came into Race's hand, bit too hard at Race's lip, felt Spot inside him, still thrusting. But only for another few seconds -- then he felt Spot come, too. Spot didn't collapse like he had, but did slow to a halt and rest for a few seconds, his body still tight against Blink's.

When he finally pulled away, Race reached up to Blink's face to wipe away what had spilled there. Blink kissed Race again and tasted a little blood, realized how hard he must have bitten. "Sorry," he mumbled against Race's cheek.

"Liked it," Race answered.

That shot a jolt of excitement through Blink, but an exhausted, thoughtful kind of excited. Like maybe he should remember about that for the future. Spot pulled away from Blink finally and then he leaned across to kiss Race. And after that, Spot hesitated for a second, then kissed Blink. It wasn't as intense as the first kiss, but was still very different than kissing Race, still harder. Blink didn't mind. Liked it, he thought vaguely.

Finally, the three of them made their way back to the wall where their clothes had been abandoned. They dressed quietly, but didn't leave immediately. Spot lit up a cigarette and so did Race, and then handed it to Blink to share.

"Race is coming out to Brooklyn in a couple weeks," Spot finally said. "You should come with 'im."

Blink, who usually did nothing but talk, didn't have much to say. He wasn't quite back to himself yet. But he managed, "Sounds good," and handed the cigarette back to Race.

Spot stood before he finished smoking. "Well, I'm done," he said, and cast a glance at the two of them. "Don't get caught."

"Would we do that?" Race answered drolly. "We'll be careful whenever we...have fun."

"Yeah, don't have too much fun without me," Spot answered. He threw another look at the two of them. "Two weeks," he reminded them, then turned to make his way down the stairs.

Two weeks seemed like an awfully long time to Blink, but then he felt Race's hand land lightly on his shoulder and he smiled. Two weeks, plus maybe some fun with Race in the mean time. Liked it. He definitely had a lot to look forward to.

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