Per Anum Ch. 12: Reunion

-NICK-

I straightened my clothes, took a deep breath, and approached the apartment door. I was still half-convinced this was a bad idea, but when had I ever let that stop me before? I raised a hand to knock, and twitched back in surprise when the door opened before I could touch it. A man stood within, caught equally off-guard. He stared at me through the open door, shocked into stillness.

"Hi, Chris," I said, and kissed him.

I hadn't planned that, but he was right there, and it was Chris, and it just sort of happened. Feelings I'd thought long gone surged up without warning and before I could make a conscious choice my mouth was pressed to his. He remained frozen for a moment, but suddenly he was kissing me back, his arms sliding around my waist to pull me tighter against him.

I would've expected kissing him again to be just like before, but it wasn't. Back then, he'd always been tentative about engaging physically with me; sort of uncertain, even hesitant until I got him revved up enough that hormones beat logic. Clearly, he'd done some growing up in the decade-plus since I'd last seen him. Not only had he filled out a lot, his frame broad and densely muscled compared to the slender teen I remembered, but his manner had changed as well. Gone was the hesitation and uncertainty. Once he got over the shock, he gave as good as he got, his tongue dueling mine as he crushed my body against his.

A throat cleared behind Chris, and he jerked away from me as we came back to ourselves. I let him go, and we took an awkward step apart, unable to quite meet each other's eyes. What the hell had I been thinking, kissing him like that out of nowhere?

...then again, he had kissed me back.

The man behind Chris was tall and lean, six feet plus of graceful poise and wiry muscle, with a chiseled jaw and killer cheekbones. Figures Chris would have good taste--he'd started with me, after all. The other man fortunately looked more amused than anything, one sardonic eyebrow raised as he regarded us.

"Uh, Greg," said Chris, glancing back at the man but not quite meeting his eyes either, "Meet Nick, an...old friend of mine. Nick, this is Greg."

"Hi, Greg!" I said cheerfully, giving him a friendly wave. "Old friend, high school sweetheart, virginal deflowerer...whichever term you'd prefer is fine."

"Nick!" Chris hissed, but Greg just laughed. It was a husky, throaty thing, that laugh, alluring to the point of being distracting.

"Delighted to meet you," said Greg, and damn, this guy just kept getting more attractive. His voice was a rich, melodious baritone, a honeyed purr that stirred my blood all by itself. Nice work, Chris. "But, Chris," Greg continued, "didn't you say you needed to be somewhere?"

Chris twitched in realization. "Oh yeah." He turned back to me. "Sorry, Nick, I really want to catch up with you, but I promised to pick something up for a New Year's party tomorrow night, and the store's closing soon so I have to run."

I shrugged, doing my best to seem casual. "Hey, I'm the one who showed up on your doorstep with no warning. I can come back another time."

Chris shook his head. "No, no, the bakery's right down the street, it'll only take like ten minutes round trip. You could just hang out here, if you want, I'll be right back." He glanced back at Greg. "You don't mind entertaining him for a bit, do you?"

Greg's charming smile didn't waver. "Not at all, I look forward to getting to know your...old high school deflowerer, was it?" I laughed as Chris winced.

"I can wait, it's no big deal," I said. "I'll just be here, telling Greg embarrassing stories from your childhood while you're away. The longer you're gone, the worse they'll get. Sound fair?"

Chris pinched the bridge of his nose. "I already regret this. Okay, fine, I'll be back in a few minutes." He glared at me. "Behave."

I grinned.

-CHRIS-

I hurried down the darkening street, my mind awhirl from the last few minutes. Nick was here. Nick. My Nick. No, not mine, not anymore, shouldn't think like that. Why was Nick here? Why did he kiss me like that? Why did I kiss him back? Because he's smoking hot, of course, even more than he was when we were younger, but still, what the hell?

I actually walked a few steps past the artisanal bakery I was looking for before my brain caught up. Angela had played the pregnancy card and roped me into helping retrieve supplies for the annual New Year's party her and Mike threw, so I had to get in there before they closed for the holiday. Thankfully, it was still open, and it was easy to collect the little dessert things she'd ordered and be off again. I don't even remember talking to anyone inside, I was functioning entirely on autopilot.

Before I knew it, I was back at my own door. It took some juggling to manage the keys and the box of baked goods, so I didn't look up until I was already inside.

Once I did, I froze.

Greg stood in the center of the living room, his shirt unbuttoned and pushed back to expose the lithe musculature of his torso. His pants were open too, his erection standing out with its upward curve. Nick knelt before him, still fully dressed, one hand gripping the base of Greg's shaft, his mouth engulfing the head. Nick bobbed rapidly, sucking hard enough to hollow his cheeks as he took half Greg's length again and again, the shaft gleaming with his saliva. Deepthroating was impractical from that angle due to the curve in Greg's cock--believe me, I've tried--so Nick was just working the end, sucking and slurping.

Both men froze at the click of the door closing behind me and turned to look, Greg's cock comically protruding between Nick's lips. With a pop, he pulled off. "Um...this isn't what it looks like?" he offered hopefully.

I just stared at them for a second, then shook my head. "I have to put these in the freezer. Don't move, I'll deal with you in a minute." I turned for the kitchen. Nick made to get up, but I jabbed a finger at him. "I said don't move," I snapped, and he returned to his position a little wide-eyed.

"Bossy Chris is kinda hot," I heard him mutter to Greg as I left the room.

"I was just thinking the same thing," Greg murmured back. I could only roll my eyes.

I put the box in the freezer, the image of Nick blowing Greg playing over and over in my head like an obscene animated gif. How...what...why? I was so flabbergasted I couldn't even formulate an actual question. For a second, I tried to believe that it had all been some kind of weird hallucination or something; why would Nick of all people show up out of the blue just to seduce Greg? Nothing about this made any sense. Plus there was the fact that a not insignificant portion of my blood supply was headed away from my brain, and the resulting tightness of my pants wasn't improving my critical thinking skills.

I took a deep breath, tried to rein in the tailspin of my thoughts, and returned to the living room. It hadn't been a dream or hallucination, or if it was it was still going. There was Greg, half-dressed and still stiff as a board with Nick's hand on his cock and Nick's saliva dripping off the end. Still confusing as hell...and hot as fuck.

I sat down in my favorite recliner, spun it to face them, and forced my voice to calm. "Okay," I said. "Please explain."

Nick and Greg exchanged looks. "Well," Greg began, "we were talking, and--"

"Aha!" Nick exclaimed triumphantly, thrusting a finger into the air. His other hand, notably, remained on Greg's erection. "So you admit it!"

We stared at him. "Admit...what, exactly?" Greg asked.

"Talking!" Nick said, as though that were a perfectly logical answer. Seeing our expressions, he continued. "I mean, you've heard him talk. His voice is like honey drizzling over chocolate-covered sex. I can hardly be blamed for my actions."

I snorted. "He's got you there, Greg." Greg's expression, the picture of offended dignity, turned my snort into a laugh. "So, Greg," I went on once I could speak, "We know why Nick did it. What's your excuse?"

"I...well...it all happened so fast," Greg stammered, in what was perhaps the first time I'd ever seen him lose equanimity like this. "Your 'old friend' is very...aggressive."

"Yeah, that's fair," Nick allowed. "I basically jumped him out of nowhere." He held up his j'accuse finger again. "Due to the subliminal influence of his inhumanly seductive voice, of course." His other hand was still on Greg's cock, now gently stroking. It was somewhat difficult to look away.

"So," I said finally, when the silence stretched.

"So," Greg echoed.

"It seems to me we have two options here," I said, voice surprisingly steady.

"And what would those be?" asked Greg, the soul of courtesy as ever.

"Option one, we have some kind of big fight involving a lot of yelling and hurt feelings and it all gets messy and complicated."

"Not an ideal resolution," Greg mused. Nick, incredibly, remained silent.

"Option two," I said slowly, "we all just fuck each other's brains out and call it a day."

Nick's grin was decidedly wicked. "I know what I'm voting for." No one exhibited surprise.

I was holding Greg's gaze. "If those are the only choices," he said, "then it seems to me there isn't really a choice at all--urrggh!" He cut off in a groan as Nick swallowed half his cock again. My own cock had been sitting at half mast throughout the conversation and swiftly hoisted the flag, as it were, at the sight.

After a few quick bobs of his head, Nick popped back off and glanced around at us. "Wait, we decided, right? The fuck our brains out option?" He ran his tongue up the length of Greg's cock, making him shudder.

I sighed and stood up. "Yes, Nick, we're going with the fuck our brains out option."

He grinned that damnable, adorable grin of his again. "Just making sure."

-GREG-

As Nick spoke, Chris arrived beside me and was immediately set upon. Nick, though his mouth was back on my cock, seized his belt and started all but tearing off his pants. I, meanwhile, grabbed the hem of his shirt and yanked it off over his head, then slid one hand along his jaw to cup the back of his head and pulled his mouth to mine for a fierce kiss.

Even as my tongue tangled with his, I was running my free hand up the hard muscle of his torso, exploring again territory I had gotten thoroughly familiar with over the last year. He found the edges of my own shirt and peeled it the rest of the way off me so I could toss it aside. Nick got his jeans open and wrenched them down, underwear included, so that Chris's erection all but leapt out at his face.

Leaving one hand on my saliva-coated cock, Nick moved his mouth to Chris. Surprisingly, he took his time much more than he had with me, exploring with lips and tongue until he'd reacquainted himself with every inch. He seemed to remember what Chris liked, though, from how fast he was gasping and clinging to me for balance once Nick really started in on him. His tongue worked that one little spot just beneath the head in between playing with the ridge, his hand gripping the base of Chris's shaft just like his other hand held mine.

Nick's mouth slid down Chris's length, swallowing him deep and dragging a groan from his throat, before pulling off entirely and giving me some attention again. Chris and I continued to make out, our hands all over each other and occasionally dropping to Nick's head as he sucked one and then the other of us. The real fun started when he pulled our cocks together, sliding them against each other in slickly exquisite friction before wrapping his mouth around both cockheads at once, his hands holding our shafts together, squeezing and stroking as he sucked. It was a little awkward with the curve in my cock, but Nick made it work, and I...well. We all must bear the burdens life places upon us...which is much easier with blowjobs.

It was unfair to leave Nick doing all the work, though, so with some reluctance I pulled his head off our cocks and drew him up to stand with us. He was still fully dressed, and Chris caught on at once to what I was doing and helped me peel off Nick's clothes in short order. His body was impressive; I keep fit mostly to look good and stay healthy, and Chris works out religiously, almost to the point of bodybuilding, but he does it because he enjoys it, not because he needs it. Nick, though, displayed the solid, flat muscle of someone who works hard physically outside the gym, and as we stripped him, I wondered idly what he did to earn it. The bright red fire department seal tattooed on his forearm provided the answer.

Then, of course, there were the scars.

There were several small ones, of the sort that those in physically tough professions generally accrue, but the largest was a wide, particularly brutal-looking patch of burned skin across the back of his neck and shoulder that made Chris gasp when he saw it.

"Oh, Nick!" he whispered, his fingers hovering over the twisted skin. He didn't seem quite willing to touch it.

"It's okay, Chris," Nick said softly, all the eager lust vanished from his voice. "Really, it's not as bad as it looks. It was a long time ago, now; I hardly notice it anymore." He tried for casual, but despite our brief acquaintance I was...unconvinced.

"The line of duty?" I asked, trying to stay polite. Things had been going so well. How could I keep this from ruining the mood?

Nick nodded to me, seeming glad to look anywhere but at Chris's face. "A few years ago. Seriously, it's not a big deal."

Chris leaned in and laid a gentle kiss on Nick's burn scar, making him shiver. "I'm so sorry this happened to you. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you when it happened." Nick just shook his head, and I scrambled to come up with a way to get us back onto a less dark course.

"On the plus side," I said, desperately trying to inject some levity, "I've always wanted to fuck a fireman, and I've never had the chance."

Nick burst out in a loud guffaw, and even Chris cracked a smile. "Well then," Nick said, that remarkably wicked grin returning to his face, "I suppose it's your lucky day." He waggled his eyebrows at Chris. "Get it? Because he's getting lucky?"

Chris made a face. "Maybe this will go better if you don't talk."

-NICK-

I laughed at Chris's expression. I'd been a bit concerned about the big reveal but Greg seemed to be keeping things on track. He certainly wasn't shy about finishing the job he'd started, opening my pants and shoving them down so my much-neglected erection could pop out to play with the other two.

Now naked all around, we spent a pleasant few minutes just twined together, cocks sliding against each other, hands and mouths exploring all over. I wound up pressed to Chris's side, one hand groping the taut globe of his ass while the other joined one of Greg's in stroking all three cocks together, precum and leftover spit making them a slippery, delicious tangle. I kissed one side of Chris's neck while Greg took the other. Chris's arms snaked around both our waists, pulling us tight against him.

I pulled my hand out of the steamy, sticky mayhem in between us and reached around to take another handful of muscled ass, this one Greg's. He groaned against Chris's throat when my fingertip slipped between his cheeks to tease his hole. If he wanted a fireman fuck, I'd give him one.

A moment's rearrangement found Greg kneeling on the sofa with his ass in the air, his head over the back, conveniently at just the right height to suck Chris's cock while I crouched to get better acquainted with his lovely ass. Parting his cheeks with my hands, I dove in tongue first. I heard his groan, muffled as it was with his mouth full, as I started toying with the tight ring. He tasted of clean sweat and the warm musk of aroused man, with a hint of something citrusy that was probably from his soap or something. I felt him shudder as I pushed my tongue inside him, spreading saliva and starting to loosen him up for later.

To my delight he opened right away, his hole relaxing to let me in easily. I can always tell a power bottom, I thought with an inward smile. After a bit of tongue work, I happened to glance up and Chris met my gaze, his eyes half-lidded in pleasure as Greg sucked him. He motioned toward the little side table beside the couch, and I was delighted to find a slim bottle of lube tucked into its small drawer. I lubed a finger and slid it into Greg's ass, stroking his inner walls and pushing more lube in with every slow thrust of my finger. Reaching deeper, I knew I'd found his prostate when he bucked against my hand, his deep groan dragging a similar sound from Chris due to the vibration on his cock. A second finger, added a moment later, had Greg arching his back, trying to drive his ass further onto my fingers.

Then the door opened.

Again.

"Greg, you home?" called a masculine voice. "You'll never guess who blew into town, just in time for New Year's!" A man strode in, broad-shouldered and fit, sandy-haired and square-jawed, with another man behind him, shorter than average with auburn hair and a compact frame. They froze just inside the doorway at the tableau before them: Greg on his knees on the couch, Chris's cock down his throat, with my fingers up his ass.

They stared. We stared.

"I thought you said the sex party was tomorrow, Mike," said the redhead.

"Midnight Makeout is not a sex party," the taller man said, then added, "Technically."

Chris ran a hand over his face. "For fuck's sake...you know what, I don't even care anymore." He looked over at the two men. "Either join in or get out, but for the love of all that is holy, somebody lock the fucking door."

-CONNOR-

Mike and I exchanged looks. I found my gaze drawn back to the scene before us, though, and I felt my cock stir. I only knew one of the three, but the other two were every bit as attractive as Greg, if in different ways. I did my best to affix the sight in my memory, so as to draw it later. This would make the perfect centerpiece for the erotic series I'd been working on.

Mike made a sort of half-choked spluttering noise, but before he could get his protest out, I reached back and locked the door behind us. I turned back to find all four men now staring at me.

"What?" I asked, pulling off my sweatshirt. "You said we could join in." My undershirt rode up with the sweatshirt, so I let both come off and tossed them aside.

"I didn't think you actually would," the well-built guy with his cock down Greg's throat muttered. He did not, I noticed, sound disappointed.

"Do I get a vote?" Mike asked, his voice still a bit strangled.

"Nope," I replied calmly, walking forward towards the trio. "Cut the shit, you've been curious since college. We all know Angela will be delighted to hear it, so just man up already."

The hot firefighter with the scar--he'd be interesting to draw, too--chuckled. "Heh. 'Man up.' That's one way to put it." He punctuated his words by driving his fingers deeply into Greg's ass, making the lean man squirm and moan around the cock in his mouth. Still grinning, he extended his unoccupied hand to me without letting up on Greg. "I'm Nick. Nice to meet you."

Feeling a bit surreal, I shook his hand. "Connor. I went to school with Greg and Mike." When Nick looked puzzled, I jerked a thumb over my shoulder to indicate the latter, who still stood paralyzed by the door. I rolled my eyes at him and turned back to Nick, who was eyeing my bare chest appreciatively. Feeling my cock growing harder by the second, I dropped my pants and kicked off my shoes, tossing everything towards the wall with my shirts. Nick's grin grew wider when my erection bobbed out in front of his face.

"Nice," he said, reaching for it, but paused. "May I?" I nodded, and he took hold. A slow stroke down the length was all it took to stiffen up completely, and Nick gave it a few exploratory tugs before leaning in to wrap his mouth around the head. I noticed that his fingers didn't so much as slow down their piston-steady penetration of Greg's hole, even as he turned his attention to me.