Used, Rare and Limited Editions 3: Wine and Dine

  "Yeah, I have a lot of work left for you to do, too. Demolition will start tomorrow morning, but I want to walk you through the place now, fill you in on the details.” Archie waved and headed to his own truck, humming and be-bopping along. He seemed pretty happy with his lot in life.

  As they pulled away, Dave glanced up at the windows above the store and smiled. Like Archie, he was pretty happy. His life was odd, but he liked it. The promise of learning new things on the job and sharing new things in his personal life was pleasant and rich. He felt full for the first time in years. Anticipation, the sense of starting something new and big, the wonderful unfurling of curiosity was reaching into almost every aspect of his life. He felt so alive he couldn't really keep still, not even when he was driving.

  The radio got turned up loud and he sang the entire drive to the inn, sticking close to Archie's truck. He hoped that they'd be able to start traveling to the job site together; being alone in the truck without Archie to talk to was resulting in more singing than he was used to, and saving on gas would be a plus.

  Of course, he also just liked to be with Archie, and there were all those lunch breaks to think about, too.

  Dave had given those lunch hours a lot of thought by the time he pulled up at the old Victorian house that was the inn. He followed Archie's truck up a very long driveway and then around to the back of the building, and knew that he'd thought enough that he really didn't want to get out of his truck if there were going to be a lot of people around.

  He watched Archie walk around his truck and open the big tool box mounted in the bed. Archie was on the wrong side for Dave to see his ass and the strip of skin above his waistband that always showed when his T-shirt rode up, but Dave could imagine it.

  God, could he imagine it. A tight ass in faded blue jeans, the worn belt that was really only there to hang his cell phone off—his jeans fit too well to slide down. That strip of skin tanned to a fine golden brown, warm under Dave's mouth, slightly salty and entirely smooth. Delicious. The one place left unbruised, really. He'd lick and kiss, his hands on Archie's ass, feeling him up and keeping him in place, ready. Maybe bent over the truck.

  Damn it. Dave realized there was no way he could even get out of the truck at about the same time he noticed his hand was squeezing his own cock through is jeans, almost rubbing off where he sat. Classy.

  Desperate.

  He rolled his window down and waited for Archie to notice that he wasn't hovering, chomping at the bit to get inside the inn. It only took a couple of minutes, and by the time Archie came to see what was wrong, Dave had worked up another blush. His cock didn't go back down, though.

  "Everything okay?” Archie asked as he came to the window, one hand holding a measuring tape, his clipboard in the other. “Not sick, are you?"

  "Nope.” Dave carefully put his hands on the steering wheel. “Is there anyone here?"

  Archie tilted his head and then looked around. “No. Just us. The owners live in their own place and won't really be around while we remodel. Why?"

  Dave looked down at his lap significantly. “We rushed this morning. I had too much time to think on the way over here. The planets are aligned. Something. I'm horny and I can't get out of the truck yet."

  Archie stared at him for a moment and started to laugh. Loudly. Complete with bending over and slapping his thigh, which had to hurt since he was holding the tape measure. “Babe. You're going to be the death of me."

  "You're going to be the death of me if you don't help me out here!” Dave tried to be indignant about it, but the fact of the matter was that he was in a precarious position. His cock was pressing against his fly and his fingers were twitching on the wheel, ready to dig in and get to it.

  "What do you have in mind?” Grinning like a fool, Archie put his clipboard and the tape measure down on the hood of Dave's truck.

  "Fucking?” Please, let there be fucking. Dave groaned and grabbed at himself again, his eyes closing.

  "Please.” The door was yanked open and Archie pushed Dave's hands away from his fly. “You wouldn't be able to hold on long enough to even lube me up."

  "Oh, God.” It was true, though Dave was loath to admit it. “Tonight, though. Gonna do you on the couch."

  "Why not the bed?” Archie sounded like he was still laughing at Dave, but that was okay. He was also getting Dave's dick out, so he could be forgiven.

  "Because I like fucking you over the back of the couch while you pretend to pay attention to the news. It makes you push back harder.” Dave's eyes flew open as Archie started jacking him. “Tighter. Please.” He looked down to see Archie's hand working him, jeans parted just enough so that his cock stood free of the zipper. It was obscene, the look of Archie's hand sliding up and down his cock, the flared head vanishing and appearing. Not even private enough to take off his jeans, just sitting there in his truck, out in the open...

  It was way more private than the blow jobs they'd shared the week before in front of Des’ place. The blow jobs that Des had watched while Wyatt went down on him.

  "Oh, fuck me.” Dave closed his eyes tight as his prick flexed in Archie's hand and he blew all over the place. Grunting with the effort, his ears ringing as his balls spent, Dave gripped the steering wheel until his fingers ached.

  "Jesus, babe.” Archie sounded awed. “Where did that come from?” His hand grew gentle and he stroked Dave through the last shuddering waves of his orgasm.

  "Buh.” Dave sucked in air that smelled of his own come and shook his head to clear it. “You. Them. All of it. God.” His cock wasn't going soft. “Arch. We gotta go inside."

  "I got the keys.” Archie sounded a little dazed as he stepped away and wiped his hand on his thigh. “Come on."

  Dave nodded and leaned over, grabbing some take-out napkins from his glove compartment and pausing only long enough to wipe up a little before putting himself away. “You got anything slippery with you?"

  "Yeah, got lotion.” Archie didn't protest how ethical—or not—they were acting, proving just how wound up he was. “And rubbers, thank fuck."

  "Why do you have rubbers?” Not that Dave was complaining. Hell, no. He was almost glued to Archie as they went back to Archie's truck to get the stuff from the cab.

  "I needed a bunch of stuff, stopped at the pharmacy.” Sure enough, a plastic bag held rubbers, hand cream, shampoo, toilet paper, headache pills and three chocolate bars. Everything got left right there except the hand cream, a condom and one roll of TP. “Too bad we weren't out of lube."

  "This'll do.” Dave hustled him toward the building, and then waited impatiently for Archie to get the door open. “Is there any furniture?"

  "Nope. There's nothing in here at all, not even a cardboard box. The power is on, water ... but it's cleared out for us to work. Not fuck."

  "Gonna anyway.” Dave was back to almost vibrating and he had one hand on the small of Archie's back, right on that gorgeous bit of skin.

  "Babe.” Archie finally got them through the door and into what appeared to be a sort of narrow entryway at the back of the house. Not as grand as Dave assumed the front was, and kind of dark, but they were inside. “Not here."

  "But—"

  "I mean not right here. Here, inside, yes. But farther in."

  Dave didn't care. There, somewhere else, whatever. He just wanted. He made a grab for the lotion and Archie started walking.

  The clipboard and tape measure were long gone, one small segment of Dave's mind noticed. Archie walked fast, apparently trusting Dave to follow—not an issue—and they went down a long hallway, through an empty room with wide windows and a fireplace, and to a staircase that went up to the second floor, maybe even the third. Dave would take a look later; right then he couldn't have cared less if there had been a freaking escalator.

  Archie thundered up the stairs, Dave hard at his heels, gaze glued to Archie's ass. “In here,” Archie said, going through a door on the right. It turned out to be a bathroom and Archie tossed the rubber on
to the counter. “Come on."

  Dave blinked twice before he realized Archie was stripping off, the two T-shirts already peeled off and the belt going, too. His attention was caught by the large bruise on Archie's side, but then Archie dropped his jeans and turned to hold onto the counter, ass out.

  "God!” Dave almost dropped the cream, trying to get it on the counter. His other hand was already on Archie's ass, cupping one cheek and squeezing.

  "Don't make me wait for it,” Archie said, his voice low and slow, so deep and rough that it might have been another man if Dave wasn't accustomed to the changes in Archie when he was this ready to go for it.

  Dave didn't say anything at all, just dropped down, held Archie's ass open and started licking. If he'd been smart he would have undone his own pants again, at least, but he wasn't that smart. He was hungry and horny and he wanted into Archie any way he could get there.

  Archie swore loudly and pushed back, his back arching as he worked himself even closer. He groaned and begged under his breath every time Dave licked over his hole, telling Dave to hurry up and get it inside.

  Dave wasn't sure if Archie meant fingers, tongue or cock, so he tried the first two pretty quickly, tongue first while he fumbled for the lotion.

  That made Archie swear more and hold himself open, chest on the counter and hands helping Dave. “More. God, more. Fuck me, babe."

  "Will.” Dave panted against his skin, wet with spit and rosy from stubble rub, his fingers finally slick. “I will.” For good measure he tongue fucked Archie a bit more before rocking back on his heels to watch his fingers sink into Archie's ass. “Fuck, you're beautiful."

  Archie made a rough noise and let go of his ass to start jerking off.

  "Keep doing that, yeah.” Breathless, Dave watched Archie pull at himself as Dave fucked him with two slippery fingers. “Feel good?"

  "Dave.” Archie sounded broken, his hand tugging roughly at his prick. “More."

  One handed, Dave undid his jeans and let his own cock push its way out as he watched Archie's hole open around a third finger. “Like this?"

  "Deep.” Archie widened his stance a bit and held his cock in a tight fist. He was panting, sometimes holding his breath and sometimes sucking air in. “Fill me up."

  Dave slip his fingers in all the way to the last knuckle, all three of them squeezed tight. It was so fucking soft in there, and Dave knew he had rough hands, working hands. Best not to stay too long. “Gonna fuck you now,” he whispered. Then he dipped his head and licked around his fingers, tasting the hand cream and Archie's skin.

  Archie moaned and his hole flexed tight. “Hurry."

  His fingers slipped out so slowly that Dave's own cock lifted and twitched in response, and then it was a matter of getting up on shaky legs and fighting with the condom. “Wait for me,” Dave said as Archie's hand started to move again.

  "Hurry,” Archie said again. “Fuck me. Oh, God. Fuck me hard, Dave. Deep."

  Dave plunged in without warning, lining up and shoving in with one economical motion that had nothing to do with saving time and everything to do with not being able to stop himself.

  Archie cried out, his ass going tight and his head coming back with a jerk even as his hips shoved back to meet Dave's.

  That was when Dave noticed the mirror in front of them, above the sink. He only had a moment or two to watch Archie's face—eyes wide, mouth open, color high—and then Archie hung his head and started moving, pushing himself back to ride Dave's cock.

  Dave swore and grabbed Archie's hips. “Take it,” he ordered. He covered Archie's back, not caring that he was mostly dressed and Archie was nearly naked. He could feel the heat of Archie's skin through the fabric, and he got a mouthful of Archie's bare shoulder as he thrust up into his lover. With knees bent for leverage, Dave plowed into him that way, over and over.

  Archie gave up on words almost immediately. Sounds were forced out of him each time Dave slammed home, but there was no diction, no remark or praise that Dave could hear. One gasp followed another, one grunt and then a moan until the sounds grew frantic and Archie was writhing, fighting against Dave's hands to move faster, harder.

  The friction on his cock was unbelievable. The rubber slipped and slid in tiny little micro movements, the hand cream not really adequate lubrication at all, and well before Dave had planned—hoped, prayed, wished—he was on the brink again.

  "So fucking hard, feel it?” he said in Archie's ear. “Gonna come in your ass."

  Archie whimpered and jerked, his whole body twitching.

  "Know what would be neat? If Wyatt would suck you off while I did this."

  Archie yelled so loud it was almost a scream, his ass clamping down rhythmically as he came against the counter, every throb and tremor pulling Dave closer to his own climax.

  "Yes,” Dave hissed through gritted teeth. “Fuck, yes. Push you right into his mouth—” He had one startlingly vivid flash of what it would look like and he shot for the second time in half an hour.

  It had been really pretty.

  "Oh, fuck.” Dave leaned against Archie and panted. “Oh, yeah. Nice."

  Archie didn't seem ready to talk just then, but Dave took the noise he made as agreement. Nice.

  * * * *

  By the end of the week Dave was wondering how, exactly, the four of them were going to deal with ... well, anything, since they couldn't even manage to set up a simple date or two.

  A series of mundane things—busy schedules, mid-terms for Wyatt, client appointments, long days pulling out flooring and salvaging gorgeous wood to reuse—had resulted in Dave and Archie falling into bed each night with only phone calls to catch up Des and Wyatt. Everyone kept saying that they would try really hard to set up something, even just dinner, for the weekend, but each night passed without firm plans.

  The weekend came and went, full of work, paper grading, sore muscles, laundry and errands. On Sunday night, Dave was at his own place for a change, putting laundry away and making sure he didn't have anything gross growing in the fridge. Archie was sprawled on the couch, eating the last of the pizza they'd ordered, flicking through the sports channels on Dave's TV and bemoaning the lack of social engagements they'd managed to arrange.

  "It might be an idea if we attempt to sort out something for next weekend and then move heaven and earth to make it happen.” Archie was sounding reasonable as he licked pizza sauce off his fingers. The remote was going to need a bath to get it free of tomato sauce. “Doing things on the fly doesn't seem to work with this many people. And honestly, between you and me, I'm getting a little freaked out the more time passes."

  "What do you mean?” Dave dumped a head of lettuce into the garbage can and looked at the rest of the fridge. Half a case of beer, a loaf of bread and a bottle of ketchup. Not good.

  "I dunno."

  Dave looked over at him and raised an eyebrow. “Right. Try again."

  "Well. You know.” Archie shrugged. “What if Wyatt spoke up on the spur of the moment? What if his kink isn't my kink, by a long shot? What if ... what if I bore him?” The last one seemed to be the heart of the matter, judging by the softness of Archie's voice and the way he avoided looking at Dave. Either that or the pizza box was fascinating.

  "You won't bore him.” Dave closed the fridge and went to sit on the couch with Archie. “And he didn't offer just because you were battered and all sexy with your black eye."

  "Sure.” Archie sighed and flopped back on the couch. “You know they do stuff way more intense than what I'm into. It's a whole other thing, the power exchange they're into and what I like. He might not be challenged. Might think that cuffs and bits of leather are kind of dull costuming."

  "Or he might like that you share a kink he can exercise with you that he doesn't with Des. He might think it's sexy to be tied to a bed or whatever it is you want to do to him.” Dave nudged Archie's leg with his foot. “Performance anxiety?"

  That earned him a glare and then a grudging smile. “Shut up. I
can perform just fine."

  "You shut up.” Dave grinned, shoved Archie again with a bit more force. “You've got bad nerves and you think Wyatt is adorable."

  "He is adorable."

  "And you want to do nasty, perverted things to him.” Dave grinned and shoved Archie again. “Don't you?"

  "Duh.” Archie grinned and shoved back, and in short order they were wrestling on the couch.

  It took a surprising amount of work for Dave to get Archie pinned down, half off the couch with their legs tangled together. “You've been working out.” Dave grunted and pushed down with his chest, hard.

  "I work construction, in case you forgot. Hey, get off me. I'm your boss."

  Dave laughed and wiggled until it was clear that Archie was getting smooshed, his eyes starting to bug out and his breathing coming harder. Relenting when it was clear that he'd won, Dave rolled off him onto the floor. “Okay, you're my boss. But you don't worry about boring me."

  "Nah, I worry about running out of pizza to feed you, about breaking the bed when we get really into it, and about the price of gas with all the driving we do back and forth between apartments. But I don't worry about boring you."

  "I suppose that's good.” Dave sat up and leaned on the couch, turning his head to take a kiss. “I don't think you need to worry about boring Wyatt. I really don't. The only thing we need to worry about is actually finding the time to see them, you know? And I think that's the real problem. We're all waiting to find the time.” He nodded firmly. “We need to make the time, sunshine."

  "I love it when you get all determined.” Archie grinned and lifted his chin. “Got fresh sheets on your bed?"

  "Yup.” Dave winked and got to his feet. They wouldn't be fresh for long.

  * * * *

  It was Wednesday before Dave could finally get himself to Des’ store prior to closing time, which he thought was pretty lame considering his determination. It all seemed a little disproportionate.

  The bell above the door gave its cheery announcement and Dave looked to the left to make sure he wasn't about to walk right on past his target. The fragile-looking chair was empty, however, so he kept on walking toward the back of the store, pleased to find that there didn't appear to be any other customers. Not great for Des’ sales, probably, but all the better for illicit make out sessions in the rare and limited editions room.