Coming Home: The Davis Brothers
Coming Home: The Davis Brothers
©2011 robcub32@yahoo.com
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
This story is a follow-up to “Big Ben”. While it can be read stand-alone, it is recommended that you read “Big Ben” first.
Chapter 1
Benji Carter looked over at the clock for what must have been the tenth time this past hour. It was late Friday afternoon and his boyfriend Ben was due back any minute now and he was growing impatient. Benji wasn't particularly crazy about Ben's long hauls, but the pay differential made a big difference in his paycheck. Not that they were hurting for cash. After Benji's promotion several months back, they were able to live just a little more comfortably. But to Benji, five days was a long time for Ben to be gone and on the road.
Benji went through a mental checklist of things that they needed to do this weekend: have hot sex, get more dog food for Toby, have sex, grocery shopping, more sex, lunch with Ben's brother Brandon and visit their mom. Oh yeah, have some more hot sex. Smiling to himself, Benji reached between his legs and adjusted his dick, which was trying to poke a hole through his zipper, trying to get it into a more comfortable position.
"Miss me, baby?"
The deep, rumbling voice was instantly recognizable and sent a shudder down Benji's spine. He looked up to see his man leaning against the door frame. Ben's six-foot-six, 300-pound body took up nearly all of the space and Benji couldn't help but admire what a manly stud his boyfriend was. Even with the dark t-shirt he wore, Benji could see the tell-tale dampness under the arms where the sleeves were stretched across his big biceps. The shirt was snug across his barrel chest and hard belly and dark auburn hair peeked out over the top of the collar. The worn blue jeans he wore were nice and snug in all the right places, and showed off an impressive bulge in the crotch. He wore a huge pair of cowboy boots, with one toe kicked up against the door. Some people might have called Ben ugly, but not Benji. To Benji, Ben was not only the epitome of a masculine sex god, but he was the kindest, most generous man he had ever met. The smoldering looks he sent Benji sent another ripple down his spine and Benji's dick throbbed in his pants.
After parking and blocking his bobtail truck in the back lot, Ben Davis checked in with the warehouse manager before making his way to the front offices. He walked with a quick pace, acknowledging with a nod or perhaps a grunt, but not stopping to chat with any of his co-workers. He had someone he needed to see.
He turned the corner and walked towards the row of cubicles. The first corner cubicle used to be Benji's before he was promoted. He couldn't help but remember the time he used to spend in there, back before they were together. The younger man had such a sweet voice and was so damn cute, Ben could stand there for hours listening to him and watching him. Back then, he was scared to approach Benji, afraid of the shy little man's rejection. But he defended him, with fists if necessary, against anyone who spoke bad about the boy behind his back. It was on one of those occasions that Benji first began to really notice Ben. Ben had had enough of Carl's mouth after he started teasing the boy. He knocked the fucker right on his ass, right there in the breakroom. Ben would never forget the grateful smile that Benji gave him, so bashful and so sweet. After that, Ben would catch the nervous little guy smiling and looking at him. Ben worked up the nerve to finally ask him out and the rest is history.
Ben couldn't help but smirk as he approached the cubicle, now occupied by former forklift operator turned dispatcher, Steve. He turned and walked past until he got to the last office on the right. The door was open, and the plaque on the door read "Benji Carter, Assistant Manager, Logistics".
Ben leaned in the doorway and smiled at the sight. His boyfriend was sitting at his desk staring at his computer screen. Ben could see the swirling lights from the monitor reflected in Benji's hazel eyes. Benji's blond hair was styled neat and short, parted on the right side. His bangs swooped across his forehead, landing just above his thin brows.
Ben watched him rap his fingers nervously on the desktop while he worried his bottom lip with his teeth. Though he couldn't see it, he knew that Benji's foot was also tapping a quick rhythm on the floor. No doubt his baby was wound up, eagerly awaiting his return.
Ben's cock started to harden in his jeans as he stared at that red lip trapped between his teeth. He knew damn well how good those lips felt against his. How good they felt around his cock...
After Ben spoke, Benji looked up and a grin quickly spread across his face. As Ben kicked the door shut with his foot, Benji jumped up from the desk and Ben swept up the little man in his arms and gave him a kiss. Slow and sexy, with lots of tongue. Benji whimpered against Ben's insistent mouth and tongue, not caring one bit that they were at work, where anyone could walk in and see them.
At only five-feet-seven, Benji was nearly a foot shorter than Ben and was half his weight, but when they came together like this, they fit perfectly as far as Ben was concerned. The only time they fit better was when Benji was on his back and Ben was on top of him, between his legs. If Ben had his way, they would be in that position as soon as possible.
"You almost done with work, baby?" Ben growled into Benji's ear before nipping a trail down Benji's neck with his teeth.
Benji looked up at the clock on the wall. 3:45. Fifteen minutes is close enough. "Yeah," he replied between breaths. "I can be done."
"Good. `Cause I got something I wanna show you."
Benji closed his eyes and shuddered once more. When Ben's voice got all deep and growly like that, it made him weak in the knees. He had a really good idea what Ben wanted to show him. In fact, he could feel it pressing into his stomach at this very moment.
Color rose up on Benji's cheeks. He knew damn well that whatever his Ben asked him for, he would give. Willingly and eagerly.
Ben watched Benji shut down his computer. His cock throbbed in his jeans as he watched his little man bend over his desk and lock the drawers. As he openly drooled at the site of Benji's tight, round ass cheeks, he pressed the heel of his hand against his straining erection. He had gone far too many days without sex with his baby. He was about to fix that.
In just a few short months, Benji had become his world. He couldn't imagine life without the cute little man. Ben knew that Benji was special. Benji loved him unconditionally for all of his faults, even though he was gruff and rough and unpolished. Even though he talked with his mouth full. Even though he couldn't eat a meal without getting food on his face or on his shirt. Even though he would get raging, fighting mad if anyone looked at Benji wrong. Even though he carried the possessive caveman thing too far sometimes. Even though he wasn't the most good-looking guy in the world. But Benji made him feel like a god. One smile from Benji and Ben felt like the king of the fucking world.
Benji shut and locked his office door. Ben was standing behind him, so close that he could feel the warm heat of his body. The musky smell of Ben's sweaty underarms hit Benji's nose and Benji thought his legs might just crumble underneath him. Something about Ben's smells made him so hot and needy. He held his messenger bag in front of his crotch, hoping that no one would see the evidence of his desire for his big Ben. He could already feel a wet spot forming straight through his khakis. It had been days since he and Ben had made love and he was so ready. Before he met Ben, Benji never thought of himself as a sexual creature, but when he was around Ben, it was like he always wanted. Always needed. All Ben had to do was look at Benji and he felt like he would go up in flames. And then there was his smell, and his touch... Benji bit his lip to hold back a moan that threatened to spill from his lips.
On the way out, Benji stopped by his dispatcher's cubicles. Ben waited with hands shoved in his front pockets, hoping that his impatience wasn't written all over his face, while Benji spoke to his team.
Steve was sitting on the edge of Mona's desk, quietly discussing weekend plans. Mona was every bit a cougar and she landed an eager young puppy in Steve.
"Bye Mona. Bye Steve," Benji said with a wave as he walked up. "Go home. Thanks for all your hard work this week. Have a good weekend."
"You, too, sweetie. Have fun tonight you two!" The wink and sing-song quality of Mona's voice let Benji know exactly how Mona thought they were planning on having fun.
Benji looked over at his shoulder at Ben and gave him an embarrassed smile. Ben chuckled and put his arm around Benji's shoulder.
When they got to the nearly empty parking lot, Ben unclipped his key chain from his belt and unlocked his old pickup truck. He opened the passenger door for Benji, then walked around to the driver's seat. Before slipping into the truck, he remembered to reach under and tug the lever to push the seat back. The last time Benji drove the truck, he had moved the seat up so damned close that Ben about killed himself when he tried to fit into the unexpectedly tight space.
Ben looked around the parking lot and seeing that it was nearly deserted, he slid out of the way of the steering wheel. He grabbed Benji by the back of the neck and pulled him close. He ravished his mouth with his tongue until he was about to pass out from lack of breath.
Ben decided he couldn't wait the forty minute drive home and he knew that Benji wouldn't say `no'. Benji never said `no' and Ben loved that about him. Benji may be shy by nature, but he loved sex with Ben as much as Ben loved sex with Benji. Ben had turned Benji into a needy little slut, but he was Ben's slut, and only Ben's. Ben reached down and unbuckled his belt, and unzipped his jeans. His ten inches of uncut meat popped out and slapped against his belly with an audible smack.
Ben put his hand on the back of Benji's neck. "I can't fucking wait `til we get home. I need you now. Suck me off, baby."
Benji let out a whimper as he bent over into Ben's lap. Benji gripped Ben's girthy shaft and slid his hand up and down a few times, watching the thick foreskin slide back and forth across the deeply reddened head. He buried his nose in the overgrown bush of auburn curls at the base of Ben's cock and inhaled deeply. He looked up at Ben and wiped his bottom lip with his fingers. "I'm drooling like a dog," he said with a giggle. He felt Ben's cock jerk at his words as the big man let out a groan and applied downward pressure on his neck.
"Suck it."
Benji leaned in and swirled his tongue around, cleaning up the sticky and sweet fluid that was leaking out. The sweaty musky scent was strong between Ben's legs and it made Benji's eyes roll back in his head. Benji attacked Ben's cock with his mouth, eagerly swallowing as much as he could.
He bobbed his head steadily up and down the hard shaft, sliding and twisting his hand in rhythm, fluttering his tongue around the shaft and swirling it around the head. Ben always told him that he gave the best head he ever had and Benji was going to live up to his reputation.
The wet heat of Benji's sucking mouth was just too much for Ben. Five days was just too fucking long to go without one of Benji's blowjobs. The only thing better would be that tight ass of his. Christ, he was going to fuck that hot little ass but good when he got home. Oh yeah, he was going to bareback that little hole, not stopping until he blasted his nut deep inside his boy. Just the thought was enough to trip Ben over the edge.
"Too good, baby," Ben groaned. "I'm gonna fucking blow. Here it comes! Aw, fuck! Benji!"
Ben gripped the back of Benji's head and bucked his hips up and shot hard into Benji's greedy little mouth. Benji moaned wantonly as he pulled back. He increased the suction on the head and worked the shaft with his hand as he milked every single drop of jizz from Ben's aching balls, not spilling a single precious drop.
While Ben recovered from his intense climax, Benji had once again buried his nose in Ben's pubes. He inhaled deeply and let out a whimper.
Ben stroked his hand over Benji's soft blond hair and then down his back. Benji's back arched as Ben's fingers came to the swell of Benji's round ass. He slid his hand under the waistband of Benji's pants and let his middle finger slide into the crack. Benji's breathing hitched as Ben neared his target. Ben smiled. He could tell that Benji was so close. It wouldn't take much to send the little man over the edge.
"You need to come now, baby?" Ben asked.
Benji sat up and nodded frantically. The look in his eyes was desperate and needy.
Ben's over-sized fingers scrambled to undo his boy's pants, while Benji grabbed onto Ben's shirt with one hand and the door handle with the other. Ben grabbed the waistband of his boy's briefs and tugged. Benji's hard dick sprang up, slender in girth and average in length, deep red and swollen with need. As soon as Ben's hand brushed against his dick, Benji's body bucked and he cried out as warm spunk shot out all over. Ben quickly wrapped his fingers around the slender rod and stroked him through the rest of his orgasm.
Ben couldn't help but chuckle. His baby had a hair-trigger when he got too excited. "I was gonna suck you, but you made a mess all over my truck."
"Oh, god," Benji moaned as he bucked his hips up one more time. His body finally started to relax and his fists unballed. "I... Uh..."
Ben laughed. "You are so goddamned cute."
Benji's mouth fell open and he looked at Ben helplessly, still unable to talk. "Uh..."
As Ben looked at Benji, his desire started to heat up. For a split second, he thought about taking Benji right here and now and fucking him through the bench seat. But his baby deserved better than that. Now that they had taken the edge off, he could wait until he got home. Once he got Benji into their bed, he would show his little man how much he was loved.
Ben leaned forward and gave Benji a soft kiss on the lips, then on the forehead. He reached behind the seat and grabbed a roll of paper towels. After they cleaned up as best as they could, Ben started the truck and they took off for their home in the `burbs.
"You'll never guess who I saw yesterday," Ben said with a smirk. He stared at the road ahead, his left hand on the steering wheel, his right toying with the hair at the nape of his boy's neck.
"Who?"
"Joe Boothe."
Benji gasped and looked at Ben in shock. "Mr. Boothe? What? Where?"
His eyes welled with tears and he started to panic and shake as he remembered how his old boss had forced himself on him in his office after work. He hadn't thought about the bastard in a long time. The memory of being pinned face down on the desk nearly had him hyperventilating.
"Hey, hey," Ben said soothingly. He grabbed Benji's hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "He's never gonna hurt you again. Didn't I promise you that? Didn't I promise to keep you safe and take care of you?" Ben pulled Benji's hand up to his mouth and gently kissed the knuckles.
"Yeah." Benji took a couple of deep breaths and slowly relaxed. "Okay... So...?"
"He's driving truck now. Saw him at the Distributed warehouse when I dropped off my load. He turned and ran the other way when he saw me." Ben snickered. "Fucking pussy."
Benji looked over at his man. Ben stared ahead at the road, but he had a smug little smile on his face. Benji would never forget what Ben had done for him. Ben beat the shit out of Boothe, making sure the foul man would never yell at him, and never touch him, ever again. It wasn't long after that he suddenly left the company. Benji had asked about Boothe's firing a couple of times and Ben always changed the subject.
"Ben?"
"Hmm?"
"Did you have any thing to do with Mr. Boothe getting fired?"
"Well... let's just say a little birdie dropped off an envelope in Ace's mailbox with evidence that Boothe was fudging the sheets and figures, padding his quarterly bonus."
"I knew it was you."
"Wasn't me. It was a little birdie."
Ben's grin widened. Benji reached over and grabbed his hand and held it the entire way home.
* * *
When the couple walked into the kitchen from the garage, their little dog lost his mind when he saw Ben. Toby yipped, then jumped up onto Ben, his front paws on his thighs while he hopped up and down on his hind legs.
"You miss daddy?" Ben asked as he rubbed and scratched under the miniature schnauzer's white beard and then over the top of his floppy ears.
Toby yapped again and ran circles around Ben, so happy to see his daddy. Toby suddenly ran to the back door and slipped through the doggy door. While Ben peeked into the back yard to look after the dog, Benji filled up the doggy food and water bowls.
"Whew, I need a shower," Ben said with a grimace as he got a whiff of his damp armpit. He pulled off his big cowboy boots and set them down by the back door.
Benji gave him a sly smile. "I'm a little sticky myself. Want some help?"
Ben crooked his finger and Benji eagerly followed him into their master bedroom.
As soon as Ben saw the bed, he growled. There was an indentation on top of the comforter that looked to be exactly the size of a certain Schnauzer. Benji knew better than to let Toby on their bed, but he also knew that Benji got lonely when Ben was on the road. He was usually better about not getting caught, though.
Benji swept past Ben and smoothed out the blankets and turned around to give Ben a sheepish grin. "I was so lonely without you," he said. He smiled sadly at Ben and blinked his eyes.
"Don't give me that pitiful puppy dog face," Ben grumbled. He pulled off his t-shirt and turned and walked into their en-suite bath. If he stuck around, Benji's puppy dog face would melt him into a puddle.
While Ben adjusted the shower knobs to get the temperature right, Benji came up behind him. He wrapped his arms around Ben and rested his head against the bigger man's back.
"I missed you, Ben," he whispered as he rubbed his hands over Ben's hairy chest and stomach. "I'm so glad you're home. I love you."
* * *
Benji spotted Brandon right away and waved. Ben's older brother looked up from his menu and smiled.
Benji was always excited about Sunday lunch with his boyfriend's brother. They always had a good time eating and laughing. It was the perfect way to prepare for their weekly visit to their mother at the home, which was always hard on everybody.
Benji grinned back and waved happily at the big mountain of a man as he and Ben made their way to the table. Brandon stood as they reached the table. Benji looked up at him, amazed that he was even bigger than Ben. He was an inch taller and a few pounds heavier, but he carried the weight well for a man his size. And with the beard, it gave him a definite "bear" look.
"Hi, Brandon," Benji said as Brandon grabbed him in a big bear hug. He squeezed him tight and lifted the little man's feet off the ground. Brandon treated Benji like family, always joking and teasing, and Benji loved him as if he was his own brother and the feeling was mutual. "How's it going, little bro?" he asked as he rubbed the top of his head.
"Good, big daddy," he joked back.
Brandon laughed, then shook Ben's hand and smacked him on the back. "Hey, brother."
Benji sat down and picked up his menu. They all knew the menu by heart, but Benji still liked to browse. Ben didn't need to look at the menu. He always got the same thing when they came here.
"How's it going, Bran?" Ben asked.
"Good. No complaints here. Help yourself to the nachos," Brandon said as he scooped up a cheesy chip from the plate in the middle of the table.
"Mmm," Benji hummed as he picked up a chip, making sure to shake off the jalapeño slice on top. He'd leave those to Brandon and Ben since he didn't care much for spicy food.
"How's your love life?" Ben asked his brother, hoping for one of his infamous juicy stories. "Seeing anyone?"
"Yeah, the business is doing good," Brandon replied, ignoring his brother's question with a smirk. "Walker just bought a fixer-upper on auction. We're gonna try to flip it. After we see mom, I'm heading over there to look at it."
"You haven't seen it yet?" Benji asked, surprised.
"Nope. Walker said it was a good deal. I trust him, or he wouldn't be my business partner."
"You've known him since the service, right?" Ben asked as he chewed on a nacho chip.
Benji cleared his throat and pointed to his chin. Ben looked down at Benji and slid his tongue under his bottom lip. Benji laughed and shook his head. Ben reached up and wiped the stray blob of cheddar and sour cream from his chin. He looked at it with a frown and then pushed his messy finger into Benji's face. Benji laughed and dodged the finger, but Ben was laughing and just kept poking, trying to get Benji's nose. Benji suddenly grabbed Ben's hand and sucked the finger into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks as he slowly pulled it out.
Brandon about spewed beer all over the table, shocked at the sight. "Fuck me," he groaned as he stared wide-eyed, running the back of his sleeve across his beer-soaked chin.
Benji wiped his mouth with his napkin and snickered.
"I got something I want to show you in the bathroom," Ben said, his voice deep and throaty, his eyes narrowed to slits.
Benji didn't miss Ben's hand discreetly kneading his bulging crotch under the table. He shook his head and folded his arms across his chest. "No way. If you think I'm falling for that one again... You already got us kicked out of my favorite restaurant. I thought I would die of embarrassment. I can't show my face there ever again!"
Ben actually looked like he was blushing and Brandon slapped his hand on this thigh and laughed until tears streamed down his cheeks and his gut ached.
After finishing lunch, Ben had to use the bathroom and told Benji to wait by the truck.
Brandon snickered as he and Benji walked out of the restaurant together. "That cheese must have run right through him."
Benji leaned against Brandon's enormous pickup truck and looked up at the older man. Brandon pulled a lighter and a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and packed them against his hand.
"You should quit, you know," Benji said.
"I know," Brandon acknowledged. He shoved the pack back into his jacket. He had tried to quit so many times before, but something would stress him out and he'd start back up again. He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, where a knot of pain had settled.
"You haven't been over in like three weeks, Bran. We miss having you around."
Brandon shrugged. "I've been busy with work and all. Besides the remodeling, we're trying to get into flipping..."
"Yeah. It's just... Ben misses you. And I miss you, too."
Benji looked up at the big guy. He knew that he was giving him the `puppy dog face', but he couldn't help it. He had come to think of Brandon as his big brother and lately he seemed distracted and stressed out and was always too busy to come over to hang out. He had grown used to seeing Brandon two or three times a week.
Brandon sighed and grabbed Benji's arm and pulled him close. The big man wrapped his arms around Benji and gave him a tight hug. "I'll try harder to make time for you guys. You know you and Ben are my favoritest people in the world."
Benji leaned his head on Brandon's chest and let out sigh. "Good."
Benji felt a growing pressure against his stomach. When he realized what it was, he gasped and stepped back, unable to look Brandon in the eye. A quick glance at Brandon's crotch verified it and Benji couldn't tear his eyes away fast enough.
"Sorry," Brandon mumbled as he shoved his fists into his front pockets and took a step backwards.
* * *
Brandon Davis entered the address of the house flip into his GPS and put his truck into gear.
He couldn't believe that he got a fucking boner while hugging Benji. The little man had been totally mortified. Things were awkward for a few moments, but by the time they got to the nursing home, it seemed like things were mostly okay and Brandon's gaffe was somewhat forgotten, but Brandon could tell that Benji was a little more reserved and slightly nervous around him. He just prayed that he didn't say anything to Ben. He wasn't looking forward to having to explain to his brother why he was pressing his cock against his boyfriend.
On the bright side, their Mom had a good day today. Brandon hated seeing his mom in the home. But with the Alzheimer's getting worse and worse, he and Ben just couldn't handle taking care of her. She needed full time help. It killed him and his brother to do it, but it was for the best.
Brandon was grateful for today. Mom not only remember him, but she remembered both Ben and Benji as well. A lot of times she wouldn't know who Benji was or she'd be unintentionally cruel to him, but they all knew that she didn't mean it. Though Benji knew that she wasn't herself during those times, the words still hurt. Brandon hated to see the little guy in pain, almost as much as Ben did.
It wasn't that Brandon wanted Benji. He liked the idea of Benji more than anything. Ben was so happy and that made Brandon happy. Ben spent most of his life alone and miserable, no one seeing him for the good man that he was. He deserved someone like Benji, who saw what a good person he was on the inside and loved him unconditionally, faults and all.
That he got a boner while hugging the little guy made him feel like the biggest fucking heel in the world. Still... even Brandon admitted to himself that there was something about Benji. He was so damned cute, so quiet and shy. And from what Ben told him, he was simply out of this world in the sack, all traces of shyness gone once they were in bed together. But more than that, he was so loving and devoted to Ben. That's what Brandon wanted. Someone like that. But a girl. Definitely a girl.
Brandon was married once. The marriage didn't last and the divorce was ugly. His ex-wife Ginny was a selfish cow. Brandon didn't normally reminisce on their years together and he wasn't going to start now. The next time Brandon got involved with someone, it would be someone like Benji. But not a guy.
Brandon didn't go for dudes. He was straight. That buddy of his in the Army didn't count. It was the circumstances of the situation. Besides, it was just a blowjob. Okay, it was a bunch of blowjobs. But his buddy was doing the sucking, not Brandon. So it didn't count. That last time they were together before he was transferred, Brandon gave him a handjob. But that didn't count either. It was just a guy thing. All guys do stuff like that when they're young and horny.
When the GPS announced that Brandon arrived at his destination, he was surprised. He was so lost in thought that he drove the twenty minutes without even remembering how he got there.
When he looked up at the house, he cursed under his breath. He double-checked the address. "Fuck."
The place looked like something straight out of a 50's horror movie. The ranch home was clearly abandoned and in disrepair. The front yard was completely overgrown, more weeds than grass. The sides and back weren't even sodded, just dirt with patches of weeds. The garage door was falling off its hinges.
On the plus side, it was a good sized home on a nice plot of land, at the end of a dead-end street with lots of space between its closest neighbor. But it was definitely going to be more work than they planned or budgeted.
He let the diesel engine of his F-250 rumble idle and turned the radio down. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed Walker Adams on speed dial. It went right to voice mail. After the beep, Brandon cut right to the chase: "This place is a fucking piece of shit, Walker. I'm gonna fucking kill you when I see you in the morning."
Brandon pressed the end button on the phone and tossed it onto the passenger's seat. He shut off the engine and opened the door and hopped down onto the ground.
At six-foot-seven and 320 pounds, Brandon Davis was an intimidating figure. He definitely planned on using that intimidation when he saw his business partner the next day.
He scratched his fingers through the beard growing on his face. The dark auburn hair was nice and thick, unlike the hair on the crown of his head. Even though he'd been out of the service for 12 years, he still kept his hair cut in military standard. He reached up and pulled the old Browning ball cap off his head, scrubbed his hand over his head and down his face.
He replaced the ball cap, then slid his hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out his pack of cigarettes. He shook one out and cupping his hand over the end, lit it. He inhaled the smoke deep into his lungs and felt himself relaxing a little as the nicotine ran through him. He rolled his head on his neck until he felt the satisfying pops.
He grabbed a pen, clipboard and measuring tape from the truck's lock box and started to take notes.
The front porch looked like it was about fall down from wood rot and the grass had completely overgrown the sidewalk. Brandon didn't feel like wading through thigh-high weeds or having his big ass fall through the porch. The back door looked to be the best option for entering the place.
When he got to the back of the house, Brandon took one last drag of his smoke and then dropped the butt on the ground and stomped it out with his size fourteen steel-toe.
He stepped towards the crumbling concrete steps that led to the back door and froze when the sudden odor of shit assaulted his nose. He looked down and lifted his foot.
"Motherfucker!"
He looked around and noted the little piles that littered the back yard, some of them looking a little too fresh. He walked over to the faucet next to the back door and turned the handle, relieved when water poured out. He lifted his boot under the stream and tried to clean it as best as he could with the water while scraping it against the home's concrete foundation.
He shut the water off, and stepped up to the back door. The doggy door caught his eye and when he kicked it, it swung open freely. "A-ha. Got you, you little shit."
He went to unlock the door with the keys that Walker gave him, but it was already unlocked. He pushed open the door and found himself in the kitchen.
He tried the light switch next to the door a couple times, but there was no electricity. That should get switched over in the next couple days or so. Hopefully before next Monday when they were supposed to start demolition. They would need power to run their tools.
The kitchen was a little musty, but not too bad. There were no appliances and the cabinets were shit. Of course it would all need to be gutted and modernized. Brandon made some notes and took some measurements, then made his way further into the house. As he walked into the living room, he noted that the house wasn't as bad as he thought, at least from the inside. It had a nice layout and even though it was abandoned due to foreclosure, it was in reasonably good shape. The outside was completely fucked up, though. It had no curb appeal whatsoever.
Yip!
Brandon jumped and spun around, startled by the sudden noise. He looked down to see a yappy little mutt glaring at him. It looked like somebody's science experiment gone wrong. Definitely a chihuahua, and some other mutt mixed together.
The ugly little dog growled, showing off his sharp little teeth, and then barked again, trying to do his best demon dog impersonation.
Brandon was not having that bullshit.
"Listen here, you little squatter," Brandon growled back. "This is my fucking house. Not yours. I'm the big dog `round here. And you... Well, you are outta here."
The dog stepped back and sat down on its butt. It cocked its head to the side like it was listening to Brandon.
Brandon lifted his boot. "You see that? That's your shit. I outta rub your nose in it..."
Brandon shook his head, wondering why he was talking to a fucking dog. He went through the rest of the ranch-style house, making notes as he went along. The little shit followed him the whole time, cautious, but no longer barking or growling.
When Brandon stepped into the master bedroom, he was surprised to see a mattress. The bare full-sized mattress sat on the ground and had several blankets on it, the only piece of furniture in the whole house. Brandon looked down at the dog. "This where you sleep?"
The dog bounded over to the bed and sat down on one end and laid its head down on its front paws.
Brandon kicked his foot at a couple of black garbage bags. They looked like they were filled with clothes. They'd get rid of this stuff during demo. He was just grateful that this was all there was. It would save them at least one roll-off container.
He peeked his head in the master bath and noted that it would need to be completely gutted. He turned and headed for the back door, the little dog hot on his heels.
The dog rushed around his legs and dashed through the doggy door.
Brandon chuckled. "Oh yeah, well, I got you now, you little shit."
Brandon squatted down and looked for a way to block the door. He noticed the door's locking mechanism and reached for the latch. He hesitated for a moment and then jumped when the door pushed open and the little dog bounded back through. It looked up at Brandon and blinked and wagged its tail.
Brandon stood up to his full height and looked down at the dog and let out a sigh. "Yeah, well, I guess you can stick around for a few more days until we start demo. At least you're keeping the rats and shit away. But after that, it's off to the pound."
* * *
Brandon pulled into the parking lot in front of the Davis & Adams Remodeling business office. His friend and business partner, Walker Adams, was standing in front of the window having a smoke. The lean, wiry man was in good shape for his age, except for a little bulge around the middle. He enjoyed a few too many beers in front of the TV each weekend, not that Brandon had any room to talk.
When Walker saw Brandon get out of the truck, his eyes widened and he flicked his smoke onto the pavement and hurried inside the office.
Brandon growled and narrowed his eyes at his friend's retreating back. Pussy.
"What's up?" Walker asked as Brandon sat down in front of his desk.
"You know damn well what's up. You were supposed to find a cheap and easy remodel for our first flip. We're trying to grow the business, not tank it."
Neither of them said it out loud, but with the economy in the tank, their remodeling business had slowed way down. Flipping broke-down houses was a huge risk in today's market. Most frustrating for Brandon was that while he stressed over it, Walker seemed to take it in stride.
"Man, it was a fucking steal, though. I got it for a quarter of the value. We'll make a profit no matter how much we put into it. Stop worrying about everything all the time. Christ, you're gonna give yourself a fucking ulcer."
"Did you even see the place before you bid on it?" Brandon asked as he rubbed the knot on the back of his neck. He rolled his head back and forth until his neck cracked with a series of snaps.
"No. But I got a flyer," he said. He pulled out a sheet of paper with pretty pictures, likely from an attempted sale before it fell under foreclosure. "How bad can it be?"
"Well, I'm sure it looked like that before Norman Bates took it over and rented it out to the Munsters."
Walker burst out laughing and Brandon couldn't help but laugh with him.
Walker shook his head at his friend. "I'll have Jess go over there first thing today to draw up the plans."
Walker cleared his throat and Brandon swore his cheeks started to flush. Brandon smirked to himself. Walker had the hots for the young architect they sub-contracted to, but for some reason was too chicken shit to ask her out, even though it was apparent that she was interested.
"Good. I want to get the permits finalized and start demo next week. And ask the woman out already, you pussy."
* * *
As Brandon sat down on the couch, Toby jumped up and laid his head on his lap. Brandon reached down and scratched at the little Schnauzer's neck. This is what a dog was supposed to look like. Toby was just too cute. That ugly little thing over at the flip house was just not right.
Benji held out a bottle of Bud Light to him, and Brandon took it and tipped his head back and drank a long pull. "Thanks, little bro."
"You're welcome," Benji replied. He cleared his throat nervously and then sat down on the other end of the couch as far away from Brandon as he could, without trying to be obvious about, or so he thought. "Ben should be back any minute."
Brandon nodded and took another drink of his beer. He kept his eyes on the ground as he quietly spoke, "Benji... About yesterday--"
Benji shook his head. "It's okay."
"No. I just wanted you to know that I'm not-- I wasn't trying to hit on you... It's just that..." He let out a sigh and glanced over at Benji. The little man had his hands in his lap and was wringing his fingers. Brandon knew he had to get this out and do it right. He couldn't have the little guy be scared or nervous around him. That would just kill him. "It's been a long time," he said quietly.
Benji looked up at Brandon, surprise clearly written across his face. "Oh. I thought..."
"No. I haven't really been with anyone since my ex-wife. I make up shit for Ben's sake. It's better if he thinks I'm some kind of pussy hound." Benji cringed at the vulgar word and Brandon couldn't help but smirk. "Then he won't worry about me. So when you held me like that... Well, it made me feel..." Brandon rubbed a hand over the stubble of his crew cut, trying to come up with the right word...
"Horny?" Benji offered.
"No. Well, maybe a little. I was thinking more like... special."
"Oh." Benji gave Brandon a genuine smile for the first time since he arrived. Benji slid closer and Brandon felt the stress leave his shoulders. "I understand, Brandon. You are special. You're a really nice guy. Any woman would be lucky to have a guy like you."
"Yeah? You think?"
"I know," he said. He pressed his index finger into the middle of Brandon's chest. "Under all that gruffness is a sweet guy who's loyal and protective and loving. You've got a big heart."
"What makes you so sure? I can be a mean bastard."
"Because you're my Ben's best friend and you helped raise him and make him the man he is. He's wonderful because you are."
"Delivery!"
Brandon was relieved to hear Ben's voice as he walked through the front door. The conversation was getting too intense. But Benji was back to his normal self, smiling and not afraid to come near Brandon, so it was worth it. And spending time with his brothers was better than sitting home alone.
* * *
Brandon looked down at the doggy bag that Benji gave him. It was literally a doggy bag. While playing with Toby, Brandon thought about the ugly little mutt at the flip house and asked for a bit of Toby's food.
Benji just about burst into tears at Brandon's gesture. "See, I told you," he had said. "You have a big heart. Not everyone would feed a stray mutt. You should take him home with you."
"Fuck that!" he had replied, nearly choking, making Benji descend into a giggle fit.
He pulled into the driveway of the flip and shut off the engine. He grabbed the ziploc baggie filled with kibbles and walked around to the back door, making sure to avoid any landmines left by the little squatter.
Brandon noted that the electricity had been turned over, since he could see light spilling out of one of the windows. Someone must have left the bathroom light on. Brandon opened the back door and made his way into the house.
He expected little ugly to come running as soon as he walked in. Brandon whistled and he heard the pattering of the little dog's feet. When he saw Brandon, he yipped softly and wagged his tail.
"Hey there, little ugly. I brought you some food. Don't say I never done nothing for ya."
Brandon shook the baggie of kibbles and the little dog yipped and ran out of the room.
"Come back here."
Brandon followed the dog into the living room, who padded down the hallway towards the bedrooms. When the pup got to the master bedroom he stopped and looked back at Brandon and then ran inside.
Brandon followed him down the hall and froze when he stepped into the room. Something was different. The bathroom door was open and the light from the vanity overheads spilled into the bedroom. The little dog was standing in the middle of the room wagging its tail back and forth as if he was pleased with himself. He barked again.
A soft voice called out from the bathroom, "What is it, boy?"
A skinny young man walked out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. When he saw Brandon, he gasped and covered his chest with an arm, while the other clutched at the towel.
Brandon dropped the dog food and raised his fists as he took a step closer. "Who the fuck are you and what are you doing in my house?!"
* * *
The boy's eyes widened and he pressed his back against the wall, scooting into the corner, trying to get away from Brandon. He had never seen a man so large. The guy was a freaking mountain. And he looked beyond pissed. He had had his share of ass-kickings back in school and it was an experience that he wasn't looking to re-live. He was positive that he wasn't going to get out of this in one piece.
Brandon stepped closer and stared down at the delicate little man, shaking in his skin. Brandon knew he was scaring the boy, but he didn't care. "I asked you a question."
"I-I-I... I didn't think anyone was living here; I thought it was abandoned. I'm sorry."
"How long have you been squatting here?"
"Um.... three months or so, I guess?"
Brandon looked the boy up and down. He couldn't be any taller than Benji, and actually looked shorter, which would put him around five-five or five-six maybe? He was a skinny little thing, but looked like he was at least getting enough to eat. He had long, black hair, which was hanging wet, down past his shoulders. His chocolate brown eyes were wide open and frantically searching around the room, probably looking for an escape. Looking closer at his face, Brandon guessed that maybe he was Chinese or something. Yeah, somewhere in Asia, he decided.
The boy clearly wasn't going to hurt Brandon. He was a little weakling, 98 pounds wet. And it's not like he was concealing a weapon under that towel. From the looks of it, he didn't have much of anything under that towel.
Brandon relaxed his stance and took a couple of steps back.
"Is that dog food?" the boy asked, nodding towards the plastic baggie at Brandon's feet.
"Yeah."
He looked down at the baggie and then back up at Brandon. The surprise was written all over his face. "You brought Ricky food?"
At hearing his name, the little ugly dog turned and yipped at his owner and wagged his tail.
Brandon picked up the baggie and held it out. The boy slowly leaned forward, quickly grabbed the bag and pulled back against the wall. He looked down at the garbage bags, then back up at Brandon, not quite meeting his eyes. "Can I get dressed?"
"Yeah."
Brandon stepped back and the kid slid along the wall to the garbage bags.
"Can you turn around please?"
Brandon snorted and turned his back. As if that man had anything of interest.
But then maybe he was just using it as an excuse to get him to look away while he grabbed a knife or a gun or something.
Brandon turned his head to see the boy drop the towel. He bent over into the garbage bag and pulled out a pair of track pants. Brandon subconsciously licked his lips as he stared at the round swell of perfect ass cheeks. Fuck, his ass was smoother and sexier than any girl's he had ever seen. And bent over like that... God damn, the thoughts that ran through Brandon's head.
As the boy stepped into the pants, his head swiveled back and looked Brandon in the eye.
Brandon quickly looked away, uncomfortable about being caught staring. He shifted from foot to foot and reached between his legs. He cupped his crotch and hefted his cock and pressed it down with his thumb, totally shocked to feel that it was on its way to becoming rock hard.
A soft "Okay" from the boy had Brandon jerking his hand away from his crotch.
When Brandon turned around, the boy was dressed in a t-shirt, lounge pants and white socks. He grabbed onto his left elbow with his right hand and rubbed the top of his foot with the toes on his other. He looked scared and vulnerable and Brandon decided to back off just a little bit.
"What's your name, kid?" Brandon asked.
"Lonnie. What's yours?" He tilted his head slightly and pushed his hair behind his ear.
"What are you doing here, Lonnie?" he asked, ignoring Lonnie's question.
"I... I'm just going through a hard time right now. I swear, I didn't know anyone owned this place. I thought the bank took it or something. I wasn't planning on staying permanently, just until I saved enough to get back on my feet."
"And what did you think when the electricity magically came on today?"
"Um... That I was lucky to maybe get a hot shower for once?" He laughed nervously, then apologized. "Sorry..." He brought his hand up to his mouth and began to chew on his thumbnail. He had his head ducked slightly and he looked up at Brandon through the bangs that fell across his brow.
Brandon wasn't laughing. Fuck, the boy was cute. Too bad he wasn't a girl. "You can't stay here. My company's coming in to renovate the house and we're gutting the place on Monday. It's not safe. Come on. Get your shit."
"Oh. Sure. Of course."
Brandon ignored the tears that welled up in Lonnie's eyes as he gathered up his bags. He watched the boy scoop up the blankets from the mattress and dump them into the garbage bag he was holding, along with a flashlight and some other things laying by the makeshift bed. Brandon ignored the voice in his head that was telling him that it was wrong to just throw the poor boy onto the street like yesterday's garbage.
Brandon told himself that this wasn't a boy; he was a man. And that meant that Lonnie was old enough to make his own decisions and live with the consequences. None of that was Brandon's business or his concern. He picked up the baggie of dog food and dropped it into one of the garbage bags and picked it up. After Lonnie threw on a hooded sweatshirt and put on a pair of ratty sneakers, Brandon walked the young man to the back door and gave him the garbage bag.
"Ricky, come on boy," Lonnie called.
Ricky barked and ran out the door after him. Brandon locked the door behind them, following them around the side of the house to the driveway.
He watched Lonnie and Ricky walk ahead of him. The voice in his head started to get louder, calling him an `uncaring asshole'. He pulled out his smokes and lit one and stood by and watched Lonnie carry his garbage bags down the driveway to the street. Ricky stopped at the end of the driveway and looked at Brandon. He barked and then looked at Lonnie, who was heading down the street towards town. Ricky looked back at Brandon once more, then took off after Lonnie.
By the time Brandon took the last drag of his smoke, Lonnie could no longer be seen. Brandon dropped his cigarette butt, crushed it under his steel-toed boot, got into his truck and pulled out of the driveway and headed for home.
He didn't think about Lonnie or his perfect ass not even once during the drive home. No, he certainly didn't think about Lonnie when he reached between his legs and squeezed the rock hard cock that was threatening to burst through his jeans. And when he got home and jerked off in the shower like he did every night, it sure as hell wasn't going to be Lonnie that he'd be fantasizing about.
* * *
After thinking about it all day, Brandon was starting to get more and more pissed off. When he found Lonnie squatting at the house last night, he left way too easy. The little shit and his ugly little dog were probably right back there right now. There was no way in hell Brandon was going to stand for that bullshit!
It was well after dark when Brandon pulled into the driveway of the house. He hoped the rumbling diesel engine wasn't too loud. He quietly made his way to the back door and found it to be locked. He noticed the light coming from the bathroom window, which was cracked open.
Brandon shook his head. The little sneak climbed in through the window! Brandon shook his head and his face grew hot as his anger soared. He should have checked the locks on the windows. Hell, he should just call the cops right now and let them deal with it.
He quietly unlocked the back door and crept inside, carefully closing the door behind him. When he got to the bedroom, he froze in his tracks. The master bathroom light was on and the door was closed enough so that the light illuminated the bed with a soft glow. Lonnie was laying on the mattress curled up on his side, asleep. His hands were folded underneath his cheek. His long black hair framed his face. Jesus, he was fucking beautiful.
Ricky was laying at the foot of the bed and he perked his head up when he saw Brandon. His tail started wagging a mile a minute. When he yipped happily, Lonnie's eyes opened.
When Lonnie saw Brandon, he gasped and scrambled back against the wall. "You-- I... I'm..."
"I thought I told you to leave," Brandon said. In the back of his mind, he noted that his voice wasn't as forceful as he intended it to be.
"I don't have anywhere else to go."
"You can't stay here, kid. I told you. We start demo on Monday."
"If you just let me stay until then, I promise I'll find somewhere else by then. I promise. Just give me five days." When Brandon didn't immediately respond, Lonnie took that as a good sign. "Me and Ricky can watch over the place for you, make sure no one breaks in."
Brandon gave him a sarcastic glare. "Yeah. With you and little ugly on the job, I got nothing to worry about."
Lonnie's voice dropped down to a whisper. "Just give me a break. Please."
The pouty look that Lonnie gave him reminded Brandon of Benji. Brandon let out a soft sigh. "All right. Five days."
"Thank you so much," he said with a breath of relief, "um..."
"Brandon."
"Brandon," Lonnie repeated. He brushed his bangs back and gave Brandon a bashful smile.
Ignoring the strange flutter in his chest, Brandon nodded and turned on his heel and quickly left the house.
* * *
Brandon pulled into the driveway and turned off the engine. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and let it out. Fuck. He started the truck back up and put it into reverse.
Fuck!
Brandon slammed both of his palms on the steering wheel. He didn't know what the fuck he was doing, or why he even gave a shit. He put the gear back into park and cut the engine. He grabbed the bag of sandwiches and walked around to the back door. He started to knock, but then caught himself. This was his fucking house. Why the hell should he knock?
"Lonnie?" he called out as he shut the door behind him.
"Brandon? Is that you? We're back here," came the reply from a distance.
Brandon walked back to the bedroom. Lonnie was sitting on the mattress in a pair of pajama pants and a ratty old t-shirt. He was using the bathroom light to light up the room. When he saw Brandon walk in, he set down the paperback book he was reading, lifted his head and gave him a shy smile. "Hi."
Brandon suddenly felt like an idiot. What the hell was he doing here? Right. He lifted the bag. "I brought you something to eat."
"Really?"
"Yeah. I didn't know if you had anything..."
"Oh. Yeah. I work at that taco place on the corner, so I get to eat there. One free meal each shift."
He said it with a smile, like it was a good thing. Brandon frowned. Hell, he ate three squares a day and could probably pack in more without trying. Those shitty little tacos were not a meal. No wonder Lonnie was so damned skinny.
Brandon held out the bag and Lonnie got up and took it from him. He sat down on the bed and patted the space next to him. Brandon paused for a moment, then sat down next to the young man where he indicated. It was awfully close, but Brandon made no effort to move away. He pulled off his ball cap and set it down on the bed next to him, and ran his fingers over his close cropped hair.
Lonnie flashed him a warm smile. Brandon's eyes were immediately drawn to the dimples on each of his cheeks, then back to the brown eyes framed with long, dark lashes. Then he noticed the little brown freckles that ran across the bridge of his cute little nose. Brandon couldn't help but smile back. Looking at Lonnie in the soft light, he suddenly realized how young he was. Brandon was 36 years old and Lonnie couldn't have been more than 25. He wondered how the beautiful boy could have gotten into a situation like this. Wait, he wasn't beautiful. He was a dude. Dudes can't be beautiful. But if they could... Now that Brandon was sitting closer, he noticed that maybe Lonnie wasn't Asian after all. I mean, he didn't even have a funny accent or anything like that.
Lonnie looked up at Brandon and saw the scowl he normally wore had softened into something close to a smile. His green eyes were just amazing, big and bright, staring right into him. Maybe the giant redneck of a man wasn't so scary after all. He wasn't particularly handsome, but he oozed masculinity, and that was very appealing to Lonnie. Lonnie's eyes drifted up and down. Brandon was so big and tall, wide and husky. He had a musky smell masked with a hint of cigarette smoke. He wore a flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up and his forearms were covered in curly hair, the same color as the beard on his face, a deep rich auburn color. His beard was thick and full, but not long. Lonnie's eyes slid down to the hollow of Brandon's neck. Tufts of that same hair spilled over the top of the wifebeater underneath his flannel shirt. Geez, he was hairy. He reminded Lonnie of how he imagined a lumberjack would be like. Lonnie had never been with a bear before. His ex was tall and thin. Lonnie wondered what it would be like to have sex with someone like Brandon. And the way Brandon was looking at him, he might have a good chance of finding out. If they did it, Lonnie would make sure that Brandon knew it was because he wanted to, not because he was letting him stay the week or because he had brought him food. He may be living out on the streets, but he was proud that he hadn't needed to sell his body.
When Lonnie was kicked out of his house, none of his so-called friends even offered so much as a couch. Lonnie didn't have much pride left by that point, but he sure wasn't about to beg for a floor to sleep on. But here was Brandon. A perfect stranger who had every right to kick his ass or call the cops, and here he was, concerned about him, and bringing him food. It felt really nice.
The little man opened the bag and pulled out two foot-long sandwiches.
"They're the same," Brandon said. His voice cracked when he started to speak for some reason. He cleared it a couple of times. "I didn't know what you liked, so you get what I like. There's some cokes and chips, too."
"Thanks," Lonnie whispered. "This is really nice of you. Thank you again."
Brandon ignored the quiver in Lonnie's voice and pretended like he didn't see his eyes suddenly turn glassy. "Yeah."
Ricky came and sat down next to Brandon and looked up at him and licked his chops. "Git!" Brandon said with a wave. "Big daddy doesn't share his food with little uglies."
"Big daddy," Lonnie snickered as Ricky ran off and sat down on the other side of Lonnie.
"It's a... Nevermind." Brandon didn't need to explain the funny nickname that Benji sometimes used with him.
They ate their Italian hoagies in silence for a while, until Brandon couldn't stand it anymore.
"What happened to you?" Brandon suddenly asked.
"You mean why am I living here?" Lonnie asked.
"Yeah. You said you have a job. Why don't you have a place to live?"
"It's a long story... A few months ago, my mom returned home to Japan when her mom got sick. She called my dad and he moved back in because she didn't want me alone. She was always a little over-protective. My parents divorced when I was a teen and he moved out, and I didn't really see him very often after that. Our relationship was always... strained... He's this big, tough Irish guy, you know? And I'm not exactly the best at sports and other `manly' stuff. I was in drama club and choir. I was a disappointment to him."
Ah, Brandon nodded to himself. That explains his look. He's only half Japanese, half Irish. `Mom would love that he's part Irish,' Brandon thought to himself. Where the fuck did that come from?
Catching Brandon's look, Lonnie said, "Yeah, I know. You don't know very many Asians named Lonnie O'Reilly, huh?"
"No," Brandon said with a snort of laughter. "How old are you?"
"I'm 26. I know, I know. Too old to be living at home. I had a messy breakup with my ex and I had to move back in with my mom. Then she left the country."
"So why aren't you still living with your dad?"
"When he found my porn, he threw me out. I tried living in my car, but it broke down and got towed. I've been saving for a place of my own. This is just temporary. I'm saving for a security deposit."
Brandon blinked. "Your dad threw you out because you had porn? All guys have porn."
"You know how it is. I guess he was surprised that it was gay porn."
"Gay porn? You're gay?"
Lonnie knitted his brows together and tilted his head at Brandon. "Yeah. Of course I am. Aren't you?"
He said it so matter-of-factly, like it was the most normal thing in the world. Brandon felt like he was smacked upside his head. Brandon quickly pushed up to his feet. "What the fuck! I ain't gay!"
"Oh," Lonnie said with surprise. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."
Brandon's fists balled up tight, angry that the boy first of all assumed that he was gay and then was actually surprised to hear that he wasn't. "Why the fuck would you think that? You're lucky I'm a nice guy. Anyone else would kick your ass for saying something like that."
"You're right. I'm sorry. I thought you liked me... that way."
Brandon balked. "Well, I don't!"
"I can see that."
Lonnie eyes drifted down to Brandon's crotch for just a split second before his lip curled in a little smirk.
Brandon almost went ballistic. The little fucker was checking out his meat! What the fuck! Then he realized that his cock was nearly fully hard, creating a large and noticeable bulge in his snug and faded blue jeans pointing towards his hip. He backed up towards the door.
"Listen here, cupcake," Brandon growled. Lonnie's mouth fell open at the insult and he was about to retort, but Brandon interrupted. "I ain't no fuckin' fag." His voice got louder and he grew angrier with each second, spittle flying out of his mouth. "You're all coming on to me... sitting all close... with your..." He motioned his hand over Lonnie's body, "...your tight shirt and... long hair... you look like a fucking girl!" Brandon stepped closer and balled his hands into fists. "I outta beat the shit out of you!"
Lonnie pushed his hair back behind his ear and swallowed nervously. He pulled his legs up and wrapped his arms around his knees. "I said I was sorry," he whispered. The playfulness was gone and he looked genuinely frightened of Brandon as his body started to tremble.
Brandon almost apologized. That he was scaring the little man made him sick to his stomach. He pushed it aside and snapped, "You got four days, then I want you out of here."
Brandon turned and stormed out of the house, slamming the back door behind him. As soon as he got into the truck, he lit up a smoke and dragged in a deep lungful. Not even the nicotine helped to bring down his stress level. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to work out the knot. "Fuck!" he muttered as he put the truck into reverse.
He didn't think of Lonnie not even once as he drove home. God damned Lonnie, with his pouty lips and perky ass. As he took another drag of his smoke, he ignored the painful throbbing between his legs and the churning of his stomach.