Free Polar Reaction by Claire Thompson

neck scarf, a pair of gloves covered by a pair of insulated mittens, and double-boots with a thick, insulated sole and his hooded parka, he could feel the cold.
    It was hard to believe only the week before they’d been playing football, comfortable in only a few layers of clothing. Then the weather had been calm and sunny. Now the icy wind blew needles of freezing snow in their faces.
    Making slow progress, they eventually found their way to the side of the building where the satellite dish was housed. It was set up on a communication tower, most of which was covered in a snowdrift. Even from where they stood, Brendan could see the dish was bent at an odd angle, no longer lined up properly to receive satellite transmissions.
    Being smaller and lighter, he climbed the ladder on the tower, with Jamie remaining below to spot him. The physical energy expended to move through and clear the snow had Brendan’s heart pounding, and though his clothing was designed to whisk perspiration from his skin, sweat trickled down his sides.
    He reached the top of the tower and, leaning against it, pulled off his mittens and stuffed them in his pockets. He worked quickly, aware of the danger of frostbite, despite the lined leather gloves. He repositioned the satellite to its designated coordinates as best he could. The dish itself didn’t look damaged, as far as he could tell. He was eager to get back to the shelter to see if they were back online.
    The wind was picking up, and conversation was nearly impossible. He had to yell to make himself heard. “I repositioned the dish. Let’s hope that does it.”
    Jamie nodded, watching as Brendan put on his mittens. The wind was blowing so hard now they were pushed partially sidewise as they trudged and shoveled their way through the piled snow. Jamie again led the way, the small snow blower chugging furiously, spewing a thick stream of snow as they went.
     
    ~ * ~
     
    Tuck tinkered with the broken generator in an effort to determine the cause. He had opened the door of the control panel and was going through several of the trouble-shooting diagnostics, so far to no avail.
    His head had begun to hurt and he was feeling sick to his stomach. Probably a hangover. We drank like fish last night. Promising himself some aspirin and a large glass of water once he got the generator going, Tuck tried to focus on his work.
    Even while concentrating on his task, a constant play of memories scrolled through his head—the look of fire in Brendan’s eyes when he’d said Tuck’s name with such raw emotion, Jamie’s embarrassed expression when he realized he’d come in his jeans, the taste of Brendan’s cock, the scent of Jamie’s desire.
    None of them had said a word this morning, himself included. There had been many furtive glances and rapid looking away. It would have been almost funny if it hadn’t mattered so much. He could hardly bear the thought of leaving Brendan now, of them each returning to their lives, separated by distance and by their inability or unwillingness to explore their feelings.
    As crazy as it was, a part of him regretted that the blizzard had died down and they would soon be rescued. What an ideal opportunity for the three of them to explore whatever was happening between them.
    Wait a minute—the three of them? Take Brendan and himself first. Though he knew one twenty-minute groping session didn’t mean they were in love, there was definitely something going on, and it went beyond mere lust.
    With Jamie the picture was less sure, but the attraction was definitely there as well. As spontaneous as it had been, the heat between them was real. Tuck’s cock rose at the memory of their kiss. Jamie, at least, didn’t have the hang-ups and hetero angst Brendan was dealing with. He’d made his desire for Tuck very clear.
    What would Jamie think of a three-way? Brendan, after all, was very easy on the eyes. What hot-blooded young gay guy could resist?
    Tuck shook his head. He felt