Redemption (boyxboy) (18+)

Chapter Thirty-one

They keep driving, stopping only for gas and food, until they're practically out of road. They're as far north in Vermont as they can get without crossing the border.

The whole state is frozen, icy white and silent. And there's another storm brewing, the snow falling in ever fatter flakes until it completely obscures the road, the Camaro creeping forward along what Reid can only hope is asphalt beneath.

He finds a place to stop before it's a complete whiteout, a string of tiny vacation cabins that have been boarded up and abandoned not far from the interstate. They break into the one furthest from the road, picking the lock carefully so they can use it again once they're safely inside.

It's just one room - bare wooden walls with one dirt-encrusted window and a small bed in the corner - with no electricity or running water. It's not exactly comfortable, but neither of them even remembers what that feels like anymore. At least it's quiet and secluded; it'll do for one night where they need shelter from the blizzard. And there's a ten foot clearing between the cabin and the surrounding woods, so the deep snow surrounding them will show the footprints of anyone who may be snooping around.

Nate has been even less expressive than normal as they drove, withdrawing until he seems to have folded into himself, his eyes hard and almost angry.

Reid doesn't have to ask why - he already knows. He can feel it coming, too.

The end. The bloody, unavoidable showdown. And he almost wishes it would just happen already, because he's tired of the fear, of the sleepless nights and jangling nerves.

Reid's certain he'd feel better if he could just hit someone...but Nate finds a different way of coping.

Reid has barely gotten the lock fastened behind them before he's shoved face-first into the wooden door, splinters catching on the front of his new "Virginia is for Lovers" shirt as Nate's arm pushes on the back of his neck. He's already grinding, hard, against Reid's ass, his breath hot on his ear as he takes it between his teeth.

Reid opens his mouth, gasping, but Nate just presses against him harder, the rough wood biting into the side of Reid's face and neck. With his free hand, Nate reaches around and flips open Reid's belt buckle, then pops the buttons of his jeans, not letting up for a moment until he drops behind Reid, pulling his boxer briefs down to join the jeans caught midway down his thighs.

Reid huffs, hard, as Nate's blunt nails dig into the meat of his ass and spreads it, his breath hot across Reid's asshole for one quick second before his tongue takes over. Reid groans as his hands scrabble against the door, trying to find something to hold onto. Nate's tongue is beyond teasing, pressing flat and wet and hard as he licks along Reid's ass over and over, feeling the ring of muscle loosen with every pass.

And then he dips inside, tongue-fucking Reid until he can feel the trembling in his thighs, hear the desperation in the sounds he's making. Nate pulls back for a second to suck his own finger, Reid twisting his face over his shoulder to watch Nate's lips pursed around it, his tongue dragging over it wet, his eyes so dark when they flash up to Reid's that they're nearly black.

And then Reid slams his head forward into the door and moans as he feels Nate's finger pressing inside him, steady and deep, his teeth sinking into Reid's firm left cheek. Nate works in and out for barely a minute before Reid is pleading for more, a second spit-slicked finger joining the first and scissoring Reid open, his dick hard and twitching despite the cold air, his nails digging into the door.

And Reid is panting, half-mad with lust, but just when he's desperate enough to start pleading with Nate to just fuck him already, Nate is gone. His hand has disappeared, his breath isn't blowing hot and fast across the bruise he bit into Reid's ass.