Page 39 of Canned & Coated

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.

Suddenly I’m above him, straddling his hips, the angle shifting everything as he remains buried deep inside me.

Something wild takes over and I’m moving on instinct, hips rising and falling in a desperate rhythm that makes us both gasp. Tanner’s hands slide up to grip my waist, his head falling back against the sleeping bag, eyes half-lidded but never leaving mine.

“Christ, Nate,” he breathes, voice cracking.“Do you have any idea how many times I’ve dreamed about you like this?”

I meet his gaze, breathless. “I’ve lost count of the nights I’ve pictured this.”

My voice comes out raw. It’s embarrassing and liberating and Tanner’s answering growl is all the permission I need. My body jerks, hips faltering, and suddenly I can’t look away from Milo above me.

His eyes have gone dark and hungry, watching us with an intensity that makes my skin burn. Something unspoken passes between us, a current of recognition.

I’m overcome with everything all at once. The nights we fell asleep in the same room, inches apart. The summers we spent inventing elaborate excuses to touch: wrestling, dares, stupid games of chicken.

Even now, with Tanner’s cock buried inside me, I want Milo’s hands and approval.

For a second, my vision whites out. When I come back to myself, Milo’s face is right there, forehead pressed to mine, hand gripping the back of my neck.

“Are you okay?” he whispers.

“Yeah,” I manage, though it comes out more like a whimper. “Don’t stop.” I rock my hips harder, riding Tanner as he gasps and digs bruising fingers into me.

Tanner must feel the shift between us, because he slows his thrusts to watch.

“I need you to tell me if it’s too much,” he rasps, sweat beading on his forehead.

“It’s perfect,” I gasp, and I mean it so much it hurts