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  "Fuck," Nate growled into his mouth. "Fuck. Carter, I don't even like you."

  "I don't like you, either."

  "I think I might even hate you. Christ."

  Carter almost laughed. "No, Archangel, actually."

  "Fuck." Nate rocked against him more firmly, cupping his ass, and Carter felt a wave of desire that left him light-headed. He was so close...

  "I think I'm going to..." he said in warning, not that he thought Nate would care, but somehow thinking that giving voice to it would bring him over the edge.

  Nate's teeth fastened around the soft flesh at the base of his throat and bit down with more control than Carter would have expected from him. More control than Carter thought he could have expected from himself, at that moment. Nate's left hand squeezed his ass and Nate's right hand moved abruptly around to rub against Carter's hard length through the thick fabric of his jeans.

  Carter moaned and his hips jerked forward as he came at the touch, pressing blissfully against Nate's palm and closing his eyes as the orgasm rushed over him like floodwater. He could feel his warm come soaking into his clothes, and Nate's teeth quit worrying at his throat at around the same time the rhythmic pulsing died down and quit.

  "God," he said, gasping for breath.

  Nate moved his hand to the fastening of his own pants and undid the button and zipper quickly, releasing his cock from his jeans. He wasn't wearing underwear, which for some reason surprised Carter. He grabbed onto Carter's hand and forced it to wrap around his cock, groaning softly under his breath as the contact was made.

  Carter let his fingers explore Nate curiously. So far he'd only touched two cocks in his lifetime, and one of those had been his own. Nate's was bigger than his, though not a lot, and he was uncut. The foreskin was kind of fascinating in a different-than-Carter sort of way, but when Carter rolled the loose skin gently between his fingers Nate made a little grunting sound in the back of his throat and twitched his hips, trying to thrust into Carter's hand.

  Okay, he could take a hint. He shoved Nate's pants down a little bit more to give himself better access and began stroking Nate firmly, setting a steady rhythm that had Nate moaning softly. Carter could tell that Nate was making an effort to be as quiet as possible -- he wondered what would happen if someone overheard them, but he figured it wasn't really his problem. Nate was the one who would have some explaining to do if they got caught, unless the guys on the crew were already in the know, which Carter somehow doubted.

  The scent of Nate rose into the air -- slightly salty, slightly musky. He was leaking pre-come onto Carter's fingers and his own hands were clenched onto Carter's shirt like he was afraid Carter might change his mind and run out.

  "Fuck," Nate said tightly. "Oh, fuck."

  Carter flicked his thumb up and over the head of Nate's cock in a swirling motion and Nate's grip on him increased two-fold.

  "Oh, shit," Nate said this time. Points for variety, Carter thought. Nate's eyes were shut tight, his teeth set in his lower lip. Listening to the small sounds that Nate was obviously doing his best not to make, Carter felt an ache in his own balls.

  "Do you have anything?" he asked.

  "What?" groaned Nate.

  "Lube? Condoms?" Carter didn't let his hand slow its steady stroking.

  "Oh." Nate's hand released his shirt and stopped Carter's movements. "Hang on," he ground out. "Let me think."

  Carter stroked again.

  "Fuck, would you listen to me?" Nate snapped, removing Carter's hand entirely. "I can't... okay, yeah, I think there's..." Completely unselfconscious, Nate moved behind the desk, opened the bottom drawer, and rifled around in it until he found what he was looking for.

  "Take off your pants and bend over the desk," he ordered.

  Carter snorted. "Are you kidding? Just like that?"

  "Aw, you want the flowers and candy now? Sweet talk?" Nate gestured at himself. "Not the way I'm built, Carter. You want me, you gotta take me the way I come."

  Carter didn't know what to say or do. He just stood there staring at Nate, wondering yet again what he was getting himself into.

  "Shit," Nate swore. He came back around the desk and wrapped an arm around Carter's waist and kissed him again. There was nothing persuasive about it, no gentleness or pleading or kindness. It was all force and control.

  Carter felt himself getting hard again, and cursed himself for a fool.

  "Want me?" Nate asked, pulling away. "Simple question. Simple answer."

  Damn it all to hell. "Yes," Carter admitted.

  Immediately Nate reached for the front of Carter's jeans. He unfastened them and jerked them down roughly, taking the underwear with them and letting them fall down around Carter's ankles ungracefully. "Turn around," he said.

  Carter turned.

  Within seconds large slick fingers were probing at him, pressing at his opening slowly but still painfully, and then sliding inside with a combination of pain and pleasure that was familiar and confusing. He could feel Nate trying to stretch him and did his best to relax -- he figured he should be glad that Nate was making an effort to be careful.

  "Want me?" Nate asked again.

  "If you ask me that one more time," Carter said in a low voice, unable to keep the grit of discomfort out of his voice, "I am pulling up my pants and leaving."

  Nate chuckled and brought his other hand around to Carter's chest, letting it slide down his front until one finger circled the head of his partially-erect cock. "Right," he said, and, removing his fingers from Carter's ass, positioned his cock at the entrance and slowly pushed forward.

  Carter hissed and bore down slightly, letting Nate in as best he could. The stretch was more than a little painful now, the sensation of fullness an ache that was both good and bad at the same time. The condom was well-slicked with lube and that helped -- Nate continued to push forward until he was completely inside, and then his hand moved down to Carter's cock again, pulling at it gently, encouraging it to rise.

  Trying to stay still, but not entirely succeeding, Carter made a little noise that he couldn't quite have translated and clenched his left hand into a fist. "Jesus," he said, when Nate continued to stroke him but didn't move. "Would you fucking move already?"

  Nate brought his other hand down to Carter's balls and fondled them, rolling them between his fingers and thumb, spreading the remaining lubricant around. "No one ever teach you patience, Carter?"

  Carter groaned, more loudly than he would have liked. "Just... God, come on." Nate's hands were moving on him and Nate's cock was so far up inside him he could hardly believe it and there was just no way he could stay still. But he couldn't decide whether to move forward or backward.

  "What do you say?" Nate asked, and Carter immediately grasped what he was asking for.

  "Yes, I fucking want you," he said, and then Nate pulled out and thrust forward, and Nate's hands were still stroking him. Nate was fucking him and he was fucking Nate's hand and it was so much after months of nothing but his own fingers and his imagination. Nothing he could have imagined was as intense as this.

  He felt his cock throb in warning. Nate must have felt it too because quickly he squeezed his hand tightly around the base, preventing Carter's orgasm as neatly as you please. Carter moaned again, in frustration this time.

  "Shit," he said, instead of "please" or "let me" or any of a dozen things he could have said.

  "Just hang on there," Nate panted. "Almost..." He picked up the pace, thrusting more quickly, more forcefully, ramming into Carter like he was trying to set a new record in speed-fucking.

  "God..."

  "Christ," said Nate, and Carter felt Nate's orgasm in his ass and then his own in his cock as Nate's fingers finished him off in a couple of quick strokes. The edges of his vision blurred, and he wondered briefly if he was going to pass out.

  They both stayed where they were, panting, Carter leaning over the desk and Nate leaning over him. He could feel his legs trembling, but thought that if he ha
dn't passed out by now he probably wasn't going to.

  Finally Nate moved away, pulled the condom off and threw it into the trash barrel, and tucked himself back into his pants.

  And suddenly Carter was overcome with an urge to get the heck out of there. What the heck had he been thinking? Well, obviously he'd been thinking with his dick and not his brain. Quickly, he pulled up his pants and fastened them, and turned toward the door. God, he had to say something, didn't he?

  "Um. Let me know if you need me to do anything. I mean, any of that paperwork. Sign anything, or whatever." His brain was circling madly. What had he just done? He'd let some guy who had no respect for him just... use him like he was a piece of meat.

  Carter opened the door and went out into the hallway.

  * * * * *

  The door was still open and Nate realized that his mouth was, too. What the fuck was the guy playing at? Nate had to follow him, there was just no other option.

  Carter had closed the door to his own room and Nate opened it quietly, without knocking. Carter was squatting near a bag of his stuff and moving clothes around, probably looking for something. He glanced up in surprise when Nate came in, and the expression on his face was guarded, wary.

  "What the fuck are you playing at?" Nate asked. He kept his voice low because Don and Jared's room was next door and he didn't want them to hear, even though the walls were thick and pretty soundproof.

  "Me?" said Carter. "You're the one who kept going on about no flowers and candy."

  "That doesn't mean you just walk out like nothing happened."

  Carter sighed and sat down on the bed. "What did happen?" he asked finally.

  "You're so much stupider than you look," Nate said, and closed the door. "And that's saying something."

  "See? That's what I mean," said Carter. He shifted on the bed and leaned back on his hands, the line of his body under his clothes emphasized.

  Nate wondered what it would feel like to be completely nude against Carter, instead of fucking mostly-dressed across a piece of furniture. "Huh?" The question was more because he'd forgotten what Carter said than because he hadn't understood it.

  "You think I'm stupid, you don't like me, and I don't like you. So what's the point? You want me to say it? Fine. We fucked. It's done."

  "Don't have to like someone to fuck him," Nate pointed out, in what he hoped was a reasonable tone.

  "Apparently not." Carter sounded bitter. "Trust me, there's stuff I could tell you that would make you like me even less, so... let's just not go there."

  Nate leaned back against the closed door and crossed his arms. "You brought it up. Whatever the fuck it is, chances are good it's not as bad as you think. Out with it."

  "Not without a heck of a lot more alcohol in my system."

  "We can do that. Got beer in the kitchen." Part of Nate wondered why he was even bothering, but he told himself it was pure curiosity. What could Carter have done that he thought was so bad? Run over a squirrel? No, because that wasn't the kind of thing that would make Nate like him less.

  Carter seemed hesitant. "No," he said finally. "Not tonight. Maybe... maybe some other time."

  Great. Christ, but this guy was fucked in the head. Nate told himself that Carter was doing him a favor by pushing him away. "Sure," Nate said, opening the door. "Night, then."

  8.

  Nate almost overslept in the morning because he'd forgotten to ask anyone to wake him in Jeff's absence. He finally started awake with a pounding heart when someone rapped sharply on his door.

  "Nate? Sorry, man, we should have thought to wake you." said Keith.

  "I'm up, I'm up," he responded quickly, dragging his ass out of bed and cursing that he hadn't taken a shower the night before and that there wouldn't be time for one now. He hadn't asked last night how far behind schedule Jeff's accident had put them, but his guess was that they had a hell of a lot of work to catch up on.

  He called the hospital to check in on Jeff, and was told that Jeff'd spent a peaceful night, but was still heavily medicated and wouldn't be in any shape for visitors until that evening at the earliest. And that was sure a relief, since he really couldn't spare any of the guys today anyway. Maybe that night he'd be able to send a few of the men to see the kid.

  There was no sign of Carter, and that was a relief, too. Nate wanted to focus on work and forget about Carter, for a few hours at least. He followed the crummy up to the side and got a report from Keith, who said they'd thrown themselves back into the job yesterday as a distraction and were almost caught up to where they should be, schedule-wise.

  "Good," said Nate shortly, even though he meant 'great.' He figured if Keith didn't know what he meant by now, the man never would.

  They cut and loaded and Nate spent a couple of hours bucking, not just to replace Jeff but also because it was hard, physical work that took all of his concentration and wore him out. He wanted to be so tired that he'd be able to sleep that night without any trouble, without lying in bed awake for hours with his mind racing and his gut churning over something he couldn't even put his finger on.

  The crew had stopped for lunch twenty minutes earlier by the time he shut off the chainsaw he'd been using. He took off his hat and wiped the sweat from his forehead and went to sit down on the nearest log. He wasn't hungry, but he was already tired. At least that was something.

  The sound and accompanying dust-filled air of vehicles coming up the road got everyone's attention. The men were all sitting up near the bus so they were closer, but Nate started walking as soon as he figured out what was going on and made it up to the road at about the same time people began to get out of their cars.

  It was the same crowd that he'd caught on side the other morning -- same cars, same folks. Six... no, seven of them, three women and four men. Long hair, glasses, the women in long, stupid skirts and sandals that could not have been less practical for where they were. Idiots, the lot of them.

  Without looking at the crew, they opened the trunks of the cars and started unpacking tents and sleeping bags.

  "This isn't public property," Nate said, in a repeat of what he'd told them the other day.

  "Actually," one of the men said, still without turning to look at him. "It is. We checked. You're logging on public property, and we have just as much right to be here as you do."

  Well, fuck. That line had worked for him so many times before that it had never even occurred to him to check about the space they were working on currently. It wasn't his job to, really -- he was working for Jackson and Jackson was working for who-the-fuck-ever had hired him as contractor.

  "Not if it's not safe," Nate persevered. "This is a work site. It's dangerous, and I can call and have the police remove you to protect you from your own stupidity."

  A girl with long brown hair, who couldn't have been more than twenty-two, turned and looked at him patiently. "You can't," she said calmly, her green eyes watching his face. "We checked about that, too. The police in town said that we have a legal right to be here, as long as we aren't damaging the land or property that doesn't belong to us."

  A flare of anger surged up in Nate's chest. "Speaking of damaging property," he spat out. "We've had a couple of instances of equipment damage in the past couple of days. I don't suppose you know anything about that?"

  None of them responded or looked at him, the girl turning away without another word. They continued to unpack the cars, and then moved up the hill away from him and started unrolling the tents onto a flattish patch of ground.

  Keith came up and shook his head. "Why the hell do these people do this?" he asked. "What do they think they're actually accomplishing?"

  A third voice, Carter's, spoke from behind them. "They don't know what else to try," he explained quietly. "They've probably done everything else they could think of, and now they're down to this. After you go through all of the government crap, signing petitions and picketing and lobbying, and none of it makes any difference, you eventually come down to the
lowest common denominator."

  "People who do shit like this are the lowest common denominator." Nate growled.

  "No." Carter shook his head. "They're trying to make a difference. It might not be the way you'd choose to do it, but at least they're doing something."

  "Why the fuck don't they try to make a difference somewhere else? About something else? This is just stupid," Nate said.

  "It's not." Carter was disgustingly calm. It made Nate want to throttle him.

  "Okay, well, if you're so brilliant, you figure out a way to get them out of here."

  Carter shook his head. "I'm not the one who wants them out of here."