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It was Ramsey’s fault from start to finish: it was even her idea to go skinnydipping in the first place. Okay, Dom had ignored Roman waving his arms frantically, trying to head it off, because what was his problem anyway, it was a beautiful night and a deserted end of the beach and they had a bonfire going and why the hell not. Then Brian took all his clothes off and Dom found out why not, Jesus.
“Yeah, I tried to warn you assholes,” Roman hissed at them bitterly, as Letty and Ramsey and Elena and Gisele all just stood there not even trying to fake like they weren’t staring. Mia was smirking, smug as all hell. Four random girls passing by further up the beach even got caught and drifted over to join the fucking peanut gallery.
The Pacific didn’t feel big enough to share with that thing, and Brian knew it, too, son of a bitch; he was grinning at them all. Fuck if Dom was going to let him have that satisfaction, though. “Yeah, quit showing off and get in the water, O’Conner,” he said, smacking Brian on his ass as he ran past him down the beach and dived into the waves, plowing his way out past the breakers fast enough to make it a race, and Brian picked up the challenge like he always did, slicing through the water and coming up on his heels until they both forgot to pay attention and got flattened by a monster wave that came out of the dark and rolled them head over foot and sent them choking and spluttering up for air.
Dom didn’t give it another thought the rest of the time they were in the water, lazily swimming along the length of the beach and back, all of them horsing around a little with a couple of beach balls. Then they got out and the thing was in their faces again, and Brian decided to be—well, a dick about it; he threw himself down on a towel by the bonfire still naked. The girls weren’t complaining, and none of them could say anything without saying something, so there it was, and then Ramsey pulled out the tequila and said, “All right, truth or dare,” grinning wickedly.
And okay, they all knew what she was going to do if she got a chance, but even so, Jesus, Dom had never seen a bunch of guys pussy out with truth so fast in his whole life. Dom rolled his eyes at all of them. Han just shrugged, but Roman scowled back and finally said, “Fine! Dare,” when it was his turn, and then of course the bottle landed on Ramsey and she said, “Touch Brian’s dick,” and the girls all started laughing behind their hands.
“Goddammit, that’s just not right!” Roman started yelling, and Ramsey snorted and said, “Oh, bullshit,” and turned to the girls. “Anyone here not gotten dared into making out with another girl before? With tongue, even?” and all the girls were chorusing, “No!” and throwing popcorn and jeering at Roman, who threw up his arms and said, “Fuck, no, forget it!” and grabbed the bottle and drank his three-shot penalty while the girls all booed and hissed, which no fucking kidding.
“Dare,” Dom said, when it was his turn, because he wasn’t going to let the side down, and anyway what were the odds: Ramsey was the only one who’d even fucking think of doing it. Sure enough it landed on Elena and she dared him to arm-wrestle Hobbs, although Ramsey muttered about wasting it. Dom didn’t mind losing that one, because you had to give a guy his due, and Hobbs put at least ten hours a week into those fucking piledrivers. Well, Dom didn’t mind for too long anyway, and nobody could say he hadn’t given a good showing. Brian patted his bicep as he sat back down again, commiserating.
It went around the circle one more time—Tej and Han both punked out again, and this time Roman did too, but there was no point even talking to him after the disgrace of the last round, and then, shit, the bottle stopped right at Ramsey. Dom looked her hard in the face, but yeah, Ramsey had both the balls and whatever else it took to pull this kind of stunt; she narrowed her eyes back at him and said, “Jerk Brian three times.”
“Man, that’s messed up,” Tej said, all the guys murmuring, and even the girls looked a little shocked. Brian looked at him and said, “Hey, don’t I get a say in this?”
“Fine, counts for your turn too,” Ramsey said. “Unless Dom taps out!” She beamed at Dom and added brightly, “Or you can win the whole thing if you make him come.”
Roman groaned out loud, lying back on the sand and covering his face. Even Hobbs looked pained, shaking his head, but goddammit, Dom had never pussied out in his life and he wasn’t going to start now. He leaned forward and got the sunscreen bottle, then shoved Brian down flat on his back, and everyone shut up.
Brian was staring up at him wide-eyed, what the fuck are you doing. Dom didn’t know what the fuck he was doing, but whatever it was, he was doing it, so he didn’t let that show on his face. “All right, O’Conner,” he said, “three pulls, and you’re gonna come for me,” and okay, that’s what they were doing.
Dom kept his eyes on Brian’s and didn’t look down; he just squeezed sunscreen into his hand and grabbed hold. It wasn’t a big deal: just taking the gearshift and making Brian his to drive. It was going to be fine. It was going to work. Brian was hard and hot in his hand, sliding through his fist, all the way to the top and down—Jesus, how fucking big he was.
Brian was panting, his eyes gone even wider, glassy. “One,” Dom said. Nothing to it. He licked his lips: his mouth was dry. He let Brian rev up for a few more breaths and then went for the second stroke. When he got back down, he squeezed, just enough for Brian to feel it, and Brian’s hips moved, helpless in his hand, shit.
“Two,” Dom said, trying not to think about it. Brian kept staring at him like he couldn’t look away, shivering a little. Dom took a deep breath. “Ready?” Brian made a short jerk of a nod, and Dom gave him the last stroke, kept it long and slow and tight all the way to the end, and Brian huffed out a short breath three times and went over.
And Dom knew better with some part of his head, but he couldn’t fucking help it. He looked down; he watched Brian come in his hand, wet and hot and messy, watched Brian come for him, fuck, oh fuck, and Jesus he was going to fucking kill Ramsey.
They both had to go into the water after to clean up. Nobody came after them. Nobody even said anything. The girls all looked pretty fucking bothered, and Dom knew that expression on Letty’s face: the second they got home he was in for a ride and a half. It didn’t matter, didn’t slow him down; the second they were out in the dark, out of sight, Brian was on him and Dom was backed up against the rocks with the waves whacking their sides, sharp edges jabbing and it didn’t fucking matter at all. Salt spray cool on his face and Brian’s mouth hot and wet, his hands holding Dom’s head and their hips shoving together like the last piece of a puzzle he’d never gotten to finish, slotting into place.
They came out clean, but it wasn’t like everyone didn’t know what they’d been doing: they’d been out there for a half hour. Letty looked even more wild around the eyes, and they didn’t make it home; less than a minute on the road and she said harshly, “Pull the fuck over,” and they made it with her sitting on the trunk of the car, Dom banging her in a half-blind frenzy, Letty hanging on to his shoulders so hard her nails cut half-circles in his skin.
“Jesus fucking Christ, I’m going to kick Ramsey’s ass,” she said after, sprawled back over the car.
“No kidding,” Dom said, eyes closed, panting against her belly.
#
“Sorry,” Ramsey muttered to him next Saturday, for whatever that was worth, which wasn’t shit. It was there now all the goddamn time, and Dom had no fucking idea what to do about it. It put Brian in one hell of a mood, too: pissed off all the time, and Dom finally snapped at him, said, “Jesus Christ, O’Conner, will you quit biting my fucking head off?”
Brian glared at him. “Fuck you! You couldn’t fucking tap out for once in your life—”
“Oh, fuck you, you had to go swinging it all over the place,” Dom said, and it was on: they traded a few punches, then Brian tripped him and they were on the floor with their legs tangled up and Brian’s mouth was—
They went at it twice and would’ve gone for a third time, except Roman stuck his head into the garage trying to find out what the hell was keeping them, dinner was on the table. He backed out yowling, “My eyes! My innocent eyes have been violated!”
“Yeah, whatever, shut the fuck up, Rome!” Brian yelled after him. That killed their hard-ons the way nothing else in the last hour had done, and they finally rolled apart from each other and lay there on the concrete floor staring at the ceiling. They couldn’t even get in a fight anymore.
Meanwhile Dom had never planned on sucking cock at any point in his life, much less taking it up the ass, but what else did you do when you had something like that on your hands: might as well get a Lamborghini and use it to commute at rush hour. But the first time he took it, “Jesus fucking Christ,” he said, strangled, trying to remember how to breathe. He was lying in the back of the goddamn minivan with the back seat folded down: they’d gone parking up in the mountains because what else were they going to do, rent a motel room? It was too fucking hot and Brian was gripping his thighs too tight and panting so hard he was whining, and they’d used half a bottle of lubricant and Brian wasn’t even all the way.
He still wasn’t all the way after another five minutes of slow rocking, and Dom was getting pissed off, sun pounding on his head through the fucking moon roof and his ass hanging out over the rear bumper. “Goddammit, O’Conner, just get there already!” he roared.
“Oh, God,” Brian said faintly, and then instead he pulled halfway out, got the bottle and just squirted it all over them, dripping everywhere, and then he went for it in one long holy shit slide, and fuck, okay, fuck, “Jesus fuck!” Dom shouted at the top of his lungs, and wasn’t even a little bit ashamed of himself, because if ever a moment in a guy’s life called for it, holy fucking shit, fuck.
Brian said devoutly, “Oh fuck, this is good,” and Dom would’ve strangled him if he could’ve sat up, and then Brian started in on him, moving in and out a little, worked up to banging him for real, and oh Christ it was good, it was fantastic, it was worth the whole four hours of driving and bitching and wrestling and the twenty-dollar bottle of lube gone up his ass and the sunburn on his skull, and at one point Dom even entertained the vague thought that maybe he’d forgive Ramsey after all.
Brian crawled in afterwards and collapsed face down next to him, and Dom slowly and with a massive effort hitched himself backwards into the van far enough to keep from falling out, his knees still dangling over the end. “Christ, we’re fucked,” he muttered.
“And we’re going to have to get the minivan cleaned somewhere on a Sunday night,” Brian said, muffled.
#
The minivan was spotless, freshly waxed, and had a new carpet down in the back before they took it back home, but Mia was mad anyway: after dinner she was banging the plates around in the sink with an expression like an angry tornado, and when Dom tried to slink past her to get the empties into the recycling bin, she whirled on him. “Is it really asking too much for you to quit having sex with my husband?” she said, and shit, he wasn’t going to forgive Ramsey ever.
“Mia,” he groaned. “Do we seriously have to talk about this?”
“Yes!”
“Jesus Christ,” Dom said. “Yeah, apparently it is asking too much; you think I want to be doing this?”
“You don’t seem too broken up about it,” Mia said.
“What do you want me to do, avoid him?” Dom demanded, and Mia just rolled her eyes and turned her back on him.
“What the fuck are we going to do about it, though?” he said that night, lying panting in Brian’s arms, down in the den. They’d both snuck down after everyone else was asleep, and they hadn’t even had to discuss it beforehand.
Brian snorted. “Go back in time and you don’t take a dare anybody with a brain would’ve passed on.” Dom shoved him: O’Conner needed to get over it already. Brian shoved him back. “What else do you want me to say? It’s too late to do anything about it now.”
Yeah, okay, he was right about that. “What about Mia?”
“Fuck if I know,” Brian said gloomily. “She thought it was hot at first, but now she’s getting seriously pissed off. Letty?”
“Nah,” Dom said.
“Really?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Dom said with finality. Letty wasn’t mad. Letty had ordered a strap-on and was planning to use it. He was pretty sure she’d gone for one about Brian’s size. Dom had the bad feeling that was going to be fantastic, too. And okay, fine, if it made her happy, but nobody else on the entire planet needed to know anything about it.
“Well, that still leaves Mia,” Brian said. “I don’t know, man. I know I’ve got to do something, but I can’t figure out what. I told her I’d stop if she needed me to, but she wouldn’t even tell me to do that. I think she wants us to not want to.”
“Yeah,” Dom said sourly. Wouldn’t that have been nice, to be able to switch it on and off. He felt like somebody had peeled off the top five or six layers of his skin and his guts were out on display.
#
“You just couldn’t leave well enough the fuck alone,” Dom said bitterly to Ramsey a couple of days later, at the races. Mia wasn’t getting any less mad, and he and Brian weren’t running any less hot, and some part of the engine was going to fucking blow any minute now.
Ramsey scowled and didn’t say anything, but a little while later, she went and got Mia to pick a fight with her. It wasn’t that hard: Mia knew where the real blame was due, too. But after Mia kicked her ass around the block a few times, Ramsey managed to calm her down and made some kind of case to her about how the whole thing was a good idea, because Brian clearly needed something messed-up going on or else he was going to find a way to get himself killed out of sheer boredom.
That got Mia where she lived: Dom knew she was worried about Brian all the goddamn time anyway. She bit her lip. “Besides,” Ramsey said, “wouldn’t you rather he was half Dom’s problem?” Like Brian wasn’t already at least half his problem.
But Dom kept his mouth shut, because it turned out to be just what Mia needed; he could see her letting it all go, and afterwards she even went over to where Brian was watching the next race and nestled against his side and let him put his arm around her. Dom felt almost as relieved as the look on Brian’s face, seeing both of them relaxing into each other again.
“What about it, are we even?” Ramsey said to him, nudging him.
“Yeah, whatever,” Dom said, a little mollified. She still goddamn owed him for the strap-on, though.
# End