by Zane Menzy
“Not that.” Keegan nuzzled into Garth’s shoulder. “For making me feel safe.”
Garth kissed the top of his head. “No worries, blondie. That’s what I’m here for.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
The sun streamed through the window toasting Keegan’s skin. He still had his eyes closed, refusing to let go of full sleep. But the more the sun burned, the less choice he had in the matter. As he lay locked between the land of dreams and reality he started to hear a light rumbling sound. That sound made him aware he wasn’t alone, he started to realise that the heat he was feeling wasn’t only from the sun—but another body. With his eyes still closed he focused on the friction rubbing against his legs and side. Garth! He forced his eyes open and immediately saw Garth’s arm draped over him and his face mashed into the pillow as he snored away.
Oh fuck! Keegan suddenly remembered the blurry patches of his night out and what had happened when they got home.
Garth was so fucking drunk he hopped into bed with me. He sucked my cock. He even fucking swallowed!
Keegan started to panic. What if Garth woke up and freaked out? Sure he was open minded and flirted, but he had always insisted it was one big piss take. Never anything serious. What if last night was something he didn’t mean? The thought of being accused of taking advantage of a friend was sickening. Keegan groaned as he recalled how rude he had been, how he had railroaded Garth into sucking his cock. Well technically I was trying to railroad him into being fucked. He chose to suck my dick. Keegan’s inner voice fired off excuses that didn’t seem to help make him come across any better.
Garth’s body was glued to his. He couldn’t risk rolling away and waking him up. Their pressed bodies felt sticky, sweating up a storm under a clammy blanket. He wondered if Garth might not remember anything, maybe he would be off the hook. But as he looked under the sheet and saw his own morning wood as well as Garth’s, it seemed pretty safe to say that their nakedness would give away what they had done together. Maybe if I just lay here very fucking still I can wait for him to let go and roll over. I can chuck my pants on at least and play innocent. This seemed a good plan until his ears pricked up at a shuffling noise coming down the hallway.
Dad’s home!
Keegan’s stomach dropped when he remembered that Garth’s bedroom door was open and it would be clear to see he wasn’t in there. As the footsteps got closer, Keegan could hear some sort of clanging. It was only when the footsteps stopped right outside his door and a voice called out, “Matty? Are you home?” that Keegan realised it was his grandfather.
Keegan watched in horror as the door knob began to turn.
As the door creaked forward, Garth rustled under the sheets and groaned with a yawn, “What’s going on.”
Before Keegan could respond door swung open and his grandfather stepped inside carrying two bottles of whiskey. “Oh shit! Sorry lads. Didn’t mean to interrupt anything.” His face looked shocked but soon grew into a smile and he began to laugh. “Looks like you two got up to some mischief last night.”
Keegan choked on silence. No noise was willing to come out and join his embarrassment.
Garth buried his face into the pillow and began to laugh. Instead of freaking out he just held his arm over Keegan’s waist even tighter.
“It’s not what you think, granddad,” Keegan finally blurted.
His grandfather tilted his head, looking at the clothes on the floor. “If you’re about to tell me you boys are playing scrabble then it ain’t what I think.” He cleared his throat. “But if you tell me you been playing hide the sausage then it is what I think.”
Garth raised a hand and gave a thumbs up. “That’s the one, Glen.”
“Don’t tell him that,” Keegan whispered.
“Keegan, son. I might be old as the hills but I know there’s only one way a room ever ends up smelling as funky this.” He flicked his eyes across the floor. “Especially when everyone’s clothes are on the carpet.”
Keegan wanted to bury his face under the blanket but politely laughed instead. “Yep. I guess you’re right.” He tried to force a laugh. “Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it son. It seems to be quite fucking normal in this family. I stumbled in on your father in bed with another bloke when he was about your age.” He scratched his beard like he was thinking about how to tell the story.
“Oh god,” Keegan groaned under his breath. “Okay, Granddad. I don’t need to hear about that.”
Garth finally raised his face from the pillow and smiled. “He’s lying, Glen. Keegan would love to hear all about how his dad was caught playing hide the sausage.”
Keegan discretely elbowed Garth. “Nope. I really don’t.” He smiled politely at his grandfather. “Sorry Granddad, I don’t mean to be rude but can me and Garth be alone for a moment?”
“I think that’s Keegan’s way of telling you to piss off,” Garth said, giggling.
“Sorry, sorry,” His grandfather said. “I’ll leave you boys to it.” He went to walk away but popped his head back and said, “If you don’t tell your dad that I snuck out with two of his whiskeys I won’t say a word about you two dipping ya wick in each other.”
Garth laughed.
Keegan thought his head would explode. “Nobody dipped anything anywhere.”
“I’m just pulling ya tits, son. Calm down.” He smiled sincerely. “I’ll see you boys later when I pop round in the afternoon.”
Keegan smiled and waved as his grandfather shut the door. He lay back down and covered his face with his hands and groaned loudly. “Fucking hell! How many times do I have to be busted having sex?”
Garth wriggled into his side kissing Keegan’s chest. “It wasn’t that bad. Glen will just think it’s funny.”
“For someone who I thought was straight till last night you’re sure taking things well for being busted in a not-so-straight act.”
“Why would I be embarrassed?” Garth frowned.
“Umm, he thinks I fucked you.”
“To be fair, he didn’t specify who did who,” Garth said sounding diplomatic, “and even if he did, it wouldn’t bother me. Why would anyone be ashamed of waking up next to you?”
Keegan’s heart galloped. “You are like the sweetest person in the mornings.”
“And you are like the sexiest.” Garth licked his tongue along Keegan’s flank, nuzzling into his armpit. He pulled his face back and grinned. “I always wanted to try that.”
Keegan laughed. “Be a pit licker?”
Garth curled his lip. “To lick yours.” He leaned in and kissed Keegan on the lips. “What do you fancy for breakfast?”
Keegan scratched his head, thinking it over. “I can go make us some toast if you like?”
Garth shook his head. “You’re not going anywhere, blondie. I will go make us breakfast.”
Keegan grinned back at him. “Will you now?”
“Yep. So what do you want? My pretend boyfriend has a rich father who has a fridge loaded with delicious shit. Bacon, eggs, hash browns?”
“Hotcakes with syrup?”
“Don’t push your luck.” Garth smirked back.
“Bacon and eggs and the biggest glass of orange juice you can find, please.”
“Coming right up.” Garth threw the blanket back then got up on his hands and knees, leaning in for one last sticky kiss. “See you soon.” He jumped off the bed with zest-like energy. He stood in the centre of the room gathering his clothes. Before he put his undies on he wiggled his arse in Keegan’s direction. “I know you’d rather have this for breakfast.”
“You ain’t wrong about that.”
Garth glanced over his shoulder, grinning like a tease. “I can’t give you all the goods right away. That would make me easy.”
“Maybe your pretend boyfriend would like you easy.”
Garth put his shirt on then with a very serious face said, “Maybe. But I don’t think he knows how scared I am of doing it.” He quickly replaced his gloom with a
smile. “Breakfast coming up in a jiffy.” He turned on his heels and marched out of the room, whistling a happy tune.
Keegan could feel the happiness flowing off Garth. He could feel it within himself too. Everything he had said the night before was real. He had meant it when he said he liked him. He loved how Garth dropped the word pretend boyfriend like he was flirting with the real thing. Keegan rolled the word boyfriend on his tongue. It sounded nice. It felt a good fit. He leaned down and sniffed the pillow where Garth had slept. It instantly registered as belonging to his pretend boyfriend, a faintly musky scent that smelt rebellious and was entirely Garth. Keegan tried to contain romantic notions before they run amok.
Before Keegan could get any more lost in his sweet fantasy his cell phone flared to life in the middle of the room buried deep in his jeans pockets. Bling Bling. Bling Bling. He ignored the call. He was too hung over to speak to anyone and if it was important he figured they would leave a message. A minute later when his phone dingled with the sound of a text he realised maybe it was important. Whoever it was had left a voicemail. The blue light from his phone’s screen flashed through the material of his jeans, demanding to be noticed. Reluctantly Keegan scraped himself out of bed and stumbled over to his pants and pulled his phone out. He rubbed sleep grit from his eyes and sat on the edge of the bed. It was only with half-hearted interest that he checked the call log to see who it was from but when he saw the name displayed his entire attention was hijacked.
Liam!
Keegan looked at the name again just to make sure. He hadn’t heard from Liam at all since that day at Tony’s. Not once. Why would he be calling now? He felt his hand become jittery as he pressed the voice mail button and put the phone to his ear. Liam’s deep voice sighed down the phone like he was about to launch into a long story. But he didn’t. The call just ended without him saying anything. No apology. No rant. No nothing. Just a thoughtful sigh.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Damon sat on his couch, wearing nothing but a pair of black socks. The only other thing covering his naked body was a tingling sadness for what he had done. With what he had become. Outside the Auckland afternoon looked as dreary as his situation. The blue sky had clouded over with the colour of concrete, cementing the city in gloomy darkness. It was the height of the New Zealand summer but it wasn’t unusual to experience all seasons in one day, even as far north as Auckland.
Despite having fucked Matt more than once overnight, the note Damon held in his hand told him he was not yet in control. He may have had the dirt he needed—in the form of filthy photographs they had taken in the bedroom—but he was still missing Matt’s complete adulation. Damon stared down at the scribbled note Matt had left behind on the breakfast bench.
Thanks for letting me crash. Talk soon. Matty.
“What the fuck,” Damon muttered. He screwed the paper up and biffed it against the wall. It didn’t make sense. He thought the challenge would have been to get Matt to surrender his body. But that had been surprisingly easy. With wandering hands, gentle neck kisses and mutterings of babe—a word he knew that made Matt weak—Damon had climaxed inside Matt’s arse well before the movie’s climax.
It wasn’t the most beautiful or steamy fuck of all time, but it had been enough to make Matt’s pensive blue eyes stare at him longingly. Hadn’t it? It was supposed to be like last time. Fuck the guy, tell him sweet things, and voila, Matt would be head over feet for Damon and everything about him. Apparently not. If that had been the case then Matt wouldn’t have woken up early and slip out without saying goodbye.
Damon stared down at his dick and balls squashed into the seat of the couch. He knew his cock wasn’t impressive when flaccid but when hard it became a meaty weapon—one that Matt seemed to enjoy. Then why did he disappear?
After the movie, Damon invited Matt to the bedroom “for a bit of fun.” Matt had nodded dutifully and shadowed Damon’s footsteps into the bedroom. Damon didn’t say anymore. He stripped his clothes off, then ripped Matt out of his clothes too, and began ravishing his mate’s body. He instructed Matt to pose in a variety of positions. Damon clicked away on his camera, making sure he got as many filthy shots as possible; Matt sprawled out on the bed, sucking Damon’s cock, his arse cheeks spread and being fucked raw. The dirt was so thorough that if it rained it would become a mud slide.
It may have been part of a mission but Damon couldn’t deny he had enjoyed the body he explored through touching, licking, kissing… fucking. He was used to the smooth supple bodies of women not the rough coarseness of men. The two times with Keegan may have provided male features but the young lad came in a smooth package in comparison to his much hairier father. Despite the ruggedness of Matt’s body the sex carried a sweet softness. Damon thought he had been in control but the truth was he hadn’t been. Sure, he had been the one barking orders and doing the fucking but Matt’s energy morphed the deed from beastly to something romantic... something loving.
We made love last night. Not fucked.
Damon’s stomach knotted and a sting of sadness rippled through him, zapping the soles of his feet. “Fucking hell,” he muttered. He was missing Matt already. He felt robbed of something by Matt not being here, not being able to wake up and play some more.
He had always been confident with his sexuality. Both women and men found him attractive. He liked that women and men found him attractive. He just loved the ego thrill of being wanted. He didn’t care who wanted him. But he had never pursued attention from men like he had with women.
He nibbled on a finger nail, wondering why he was suddenly more than capable of fucking men.
You were always able to do it. You just chose not to.
His inner voice was right. It wasn’t that he didn’t find certain men attractive. His years of photography had taught him he appreciated beauty in many forms. Not just the mainstream and accepted. Beauty was beauty. He knew most men would disagree that sexuality could be fluid but he also knew that every single guy in a group situation was subliminally aware of where they stood in the male pecking order; which men were their competition and who the weak were. It was primal and instinctive.
It was in those rare situations—usually on a night out in a club—where Damon would find someone on par with him—or arguably better-looking—that he would envy them. He would want them. He wouldn’t just stop at comparing their physique and face, he would sometimes imagine how the guy would size-up with no clothes on. How that guy would perform. Damon wondered if this is where he tipped the scales of heterosexuality and was a slider along some invisible spectrum.
At eighteen he wasn’t aware these shades of grey existed. You were one thing or another. In his twenties, he was far too worried about being accepted and popular to ever step across a line society would mock him for and label him something he wasn’t entirely. But now… now he probably could cross the line and walk for miles past it.
That is what he had done with Keegan. Crossed the line.
Damon ran a hand up his toned legs, darted it inside his thighs and cupped his cock and balls. Keegan had owned these. He had owned all of him. The young guy’s cock penetrating him had felt like some sort of transaction leaving Damon feeling like a possession. It was different to any sex he had ever had before. Not the dubious controlling aspect but the sense of purpose it had given him. He may have hated being made feel worthless but he had enjoyed feeling like he was part of something greater than just his own cock’s enjoyment.
He knew Keegan was in town and he knew he should go see him but that was dangerous. If Damon were around the boy who he had crowned his boss then he would crumble and give Keegan whatever he wanted. He was invested. And he finally knew why.
Damon let go of himself and coughed out a pitiful laugh. “How fucking lonely am I?”
Saying it aloud felt good. He may have an enviable lifestyle with all his nice things, money, trips away and endless lovers but after so long living such a selfish life he was growing tired of it. It was empty.
It had little purpose. What he had done with Keegan was rich in other ways. It helped dull the loneliness.
Not anymore.
In his mind, Damon tore up the receipt Keegan had of him. The damaging arrangement was over. The little shit no longer had control. Yes, the lad had helped open his eyes in some way to what was missing in Damon’s life but the blond teen was not the person to fill it. It was his father.
Matty…
Last night with Matt was beautiful. It wasn’t a one-sided ordeal. Tucked up beside his best mate and calling him babe wasn’t an act. Damon had meant all the kind things he had said. He had felt them. They were real.
Damon stood up to get dressed. He raced through his apartment like a man about to cash in a winning lotto ticket. He didn’t care if he run in to Keegan. He wasn’t his fucking boss. The dark hold the boy had on him was gone. All Damon cared about was going to see Matt. He needed to see him. Hold him. Kiss him. He needed to be with his new-found purpose.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Matt went to make himself a coffee, walking over the sunshine draped across the tiles of his kitchen floor. His mood felt as bright as the shimmering light he was treading on. Nothing was bringing him down today; not even the hideous mess of piled dishes splattered over the sink bench, which he assumed was from Keegan and Garth’s messy attempt at a cooked breakfast.
Since waking up he had worn a silly grin smeared all over his face, his mind dancing in happiness from what him and Damon had done together. The love we made. Twenty years of denying and suppressing feelings had come to an end last night when Damon entered him, roaring Matt’s heart to life from a self-induced slumber.
He had woken early that morning while Damon still slept. Side by side, he had laid there spending far too long admiring his beautiful mate asleep that it began to border on creepy. When it became apparent Damon wasn’t waking up anytime soon, Matt made the decision to get up and go home. He wished he could have stayed in bed and spend the day with Damon, but Matt knew if he wanted to experience sizzling passion again then he best not come across too clingy. The last time they shared a sexual journey, Matt had scared Damon off with his enthusiasm.