Revving It Up Box Set

by W. S. Long

  “Carry me to bed,” whispered Sebastian.

  “Sure, but I have a better idea,” winked Caleb.

  “Oh?’

  “I’ll swing you around.” Caleb hoisted Sebastian’s legs higher as they neared the bed. Sebastian guessed what Caleb wanted and leaned so his back touched the bed slightly and he twisted, letting his arms go. Caleb grabbed Sebastian, braced his back for the weight then Caleb hoisted Sebastian back up again. Sebastian’s knees replaced his arms around Caleb’s neck. Sebastian was now upside down, his breath warmed Caleb’s dick and balls. Caleb’s penis throbbed with anticipation.

  Caleb focused on Sebastian’s demanding cock. Caleb sucked in Sebastian’s pink head, tasting the soap that was on it minutes ago, and he heard Sebastian’s sloppy kisses below as Sebastian had the unenviable task of trying to take at least half of Caleb. As Sebastian sucked, Caleb moved his hips forward. Sebastian forced himself on Caleb’s large member as much as Sebastian could take. Meanwhile, Caleb easily took Sebastian’s dick in his mouth, taking his whole length, while he swirled his tongue around Sebastian’s cockhead.

  “Fuck, I love how you do that!” shouted Sebastian. “Now, if I could only fit you in mine.”

  “I never heard you complain before.” Caleb moved closer to the bed, leaned down, and when Sebastian was inches away from safety, let him plop softly on the bed sheets. He positioned himself so that his dick was in easy reach of Sebastian’s mouth as he continued to blow Sebastian.

  “I’ve never complained, and never will,” mumbled Sebastian, who breathed heavily from exertion.

  Caleb grasped Sebastian’s dick and jerked it, twisting at the top then licking the head the way Sebastian liked it. He focused on Sebastian’s balls, lightly licking down the middle.

  “Ummm, stop,” whispered Sebastian.

  “What? Why?”

  “Is that my phone?” asked Sebastian.

  Caleb looked over to where their phones lay and saw Sebastian’s cell screen lit up and moving because of the vibration. The dull tone of the ringer got increasingly louder.

  “Yeah.”

  “I need to get it.”

  Caleb moved off of Sebastian so Sebastian could sit up. “Really?”

  “It could be work,” said Sebastian. “I have to get it.” Sebastian scooted over the edge of the bed.

  Caleb watched Sebastian retrieve the voice message.

  Sebastian shrugged. “I have to go in. Two people called out sick so they need help with tonight’s late night broadcast.”

  Caleb lay next to Sebastian and didn’t say anything at first. “Obviously, you do what you have to do.”

  “I’ll be back in after midnight. We can pick up where we left off.”

  Sebastian kissed Caleb as Sebastian spoke, grabbed Caleb’s cock and bent down and kissed the head. “Promise.”

  Caleb nodded and kissed Sebastian. “Go to work.”

  “Okay. Love you.”

  Caleb smiled before he replied. “Love you, too.” He watched Sebastian run to the dresser, grab underwear, pick up the cargo shorts he’d thrown down earlier, then put the final touches with a fresh polo shirt before grabbing his keys and wallet.

  “Later, babe.”

  Caleb waved as Sebastian took off. After a moment of silence, he spoke in a low whisper, just for his benefit. “If this keeps up, I may have to get a puppy or kitten to keep company.”

  * * * *

  “Hand me the wrench. Please.”

  Caleb grabbed the tool and put it in Kit’s outstretched hand. As Kit double- checked the spoiler, Caleb moved around the vehicle and inspected the refurbished car. This was one of his favorite things to do, when he wanted to get away from it all: hang out in the garage. Surfing was another. “Who installed the new engine?” asked Caleb.

  “I did, with some help,” said Kit. “Me, Bob, couple of the guys. One hundred twenty-five thousand. That’s what your pop dropped just for the engine to get this ready for the upcoming race.” Kit raised his arm and wiped his brow, moving the dark wavy hair he’d inherited from his Greek immigrant father. “God, it’s fucking hot already. Can you turn on the fan?”

  Caleb walked over to the standing fan, pointed it away from the car and turned it on, clicking the setting to full blast. The fan pumped out air for circulation. “Paint and decals look nice. Guess Earl got a couple of new endorsements.”

  “I heard that Earl had another endorsement or two, but—’’

  “—But, what?” asked Caleb. Caleb leaned against the Chevy stock car as Kit walked back and forth at the back of the vehicle with a towel over the car’s spoiler. Kit remained silent. Caleb pressed. “What did you hear?”

  “Couple of sponsors were concerned about Youngblood Racing fitting the image of a family NASCAR team.”

  Caleb exhaled. “I’m not driving. Not the major ones, anyway.”

  “Hey, you didn’t hear it from me. I only found out because I overheard Bob and Earl in the garage a couple of weeks ago.”

  “So my dad told Bob?” asked Caleb. When Kit nodded his head, Caleb crossed his arms. “Shit.”

  Kit and Caleb’s conversation stopped when they heard a truck pull up next to the garage. Soon after, Cujo stepped in. Cujo approached Kit and stopped at the spoiler Kit had installed. “Hey, Caleb. Heard you were hanging out here.” Cujo fist-bumped Kit and did the same for Caleb. “What’s up, Kit?”

  “Busy man, putting in these finishing touches.”

  Garrison walked into the garage. “What up, little brother?” Garrison moved close, offering his right hand, cocked at the elbow. Caleb took it, squeezing his brother’s hand at an angle as they half-hugged, Caleb patted Garrison’s back with one hand, while Garrison did the same. Garrison nodded at Kit. “What’s up, Kit?”

  “Almost done. What do you think?” asked Kit.

  “She looks pretty, but we got to see how she runs.” Garrison faced his brother.

  “You’re not here to drive it, yet? Right?” asked Caleb.

  Garrison shrugged. “Whenever it’s ready.” Garrison put his hand on the car and slowly moved his hand, almost lovingly, over the roof. “This is not why we’re here. We thought we’d take you to the photo shoot on the track, and maybe surf later.”

  “Surf instead of working out?” asked Caleb. “I’m fine with that. I just don’t have my boards with me.”

  “We can swing by your place to get them,” said Cujo, who turned to the chief mechanic. “Hey, Kit. Car’s really looking good, man.”

  Kit beamed with Cujo’s compliment.

  “Yeah, it’s sweet,” said Garrison who nodded approvingly as he moved a bare hand over the car’s hood this time. “Everything looks good. Is it ready for Daytona?”

  Caleb spoke. “Yeah. It just needs a test drive around the track for fine-tuning on handling.”

  “And, you want to test drive it before I do, don’t you?” asked Garrison.

  “Sure, why not? I mean, I placed second in the Firecracker last year.”

  “Of course, you do,” quipped Garrison.

  Cujo waved a hand to cut off both Caleb and Garrison from talking. “I placed first.”

  Caleb crossed his arms and opened his mouth to speak, but Garrison spoke first.

  “Fine, test-drive it. Iron out any transmission and engine kinks before Daytona.” Garrison rolled his eyes. “I’ll drive it after you. Now, are you ready to go to this stupid photo shoot?”

  Caleb uncrossed his arms and beamed when his brother relented. “Yeah, I am,” answered Caleb.

  “Hope you brought some coconut oil,” Cujo teased.

  Caleb’s eyebrows furrowed. “Why?” asked Caleb, his voice a half-octave higher.

  “Didn’t you hear? Joan’s not only having a photo shoot with the three of us and the car that placed in the Firecracker, she and Dad green-lighted a photo shoot with you in a magazine where you get to show up those pecs and abs with a couple of pretty girls.”

  “What? For what?” asked Caleb.
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br />   “Joan wants to bring in some revenue stream. She said she got some requests from a few gay magazines and newspapers. She even mentioned something about water of toilet.”

  Caleb groaned. “Eau de toilette? Geesh, didn’t you take French in school? She mentioned it a few weeks ago but I told her I didn’t think it was a good idea.”

  “Doesn’t sound like a ‘no’ to me,” added Cujo. “Sebastian okay with you doing this?”

  Caleb shrugged. “I don’t know. I haven’t talked to him about it. He’s been busy with work.”

  “My brother doesn’t need his boyfriend’s permission.”

  “Correction, fiancé,” added Cujo, his hands spread to emphasize. “I can see it now, splattered in the local newspaper, ‘Gay NASCAR Driver Gets Married.’ “

  “That’s not the kind of exposure we need. Not in Daytona anyway. We’re not San Francisco, or New York or whatever.” Garrison walked out of the garage with Cujo and Caleb following.

  “It’s the twenty-first century, dude,” said Cujo.

  Kit waved. “See you later guys.”

  Caleb didn’t want to argue the point about a publicized wedding with Garrison because, frankly, Sebastian and he had never talked about the subject. “Later, Kit,” shouted Caleb in afterthought. When he got to his brother’s truck, Caleb opened his door and sat in the back seat of the pick-up.

  Cujo picked up where they left off. “I don’t think it’s a bad idea on having a public wedding. Fuck ‘em if they have a problem with Sebastian and Caleb tying the knot. I mean, we’re always worried about endorsements, right? We can have a car that advertises for Viagra, but we can’t have a gay wedding? Maybe we should just focus on doing the right thing. Thinking about the future means we want more diversity, right? I see this wedding taking place before a race.” Cujo paused, faced Caleb for a second before he added. “As you can tell, I don’t see a problem.” Cujo the faced Garrison. “Do you?”

  “Of course not. It’s just tricky for us about publicizing it,” said Garrison.

  “I don’t think it’s an ‘us’ decision. I think it’s a Caleb and Sebastian decision,” said Cujo.

  Caleb didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what to say. He did find it interesting that Cujo wanted them to have a public wedding. He was aware that Garrison was just protective of the family brand.

  The family brand. Youngblood Racing. Those two words were drilled into his head as soon as he started speaking as a toddler. Caleb knew that the family business was closely tied to their name, product placement, advertising. And money. Everything.

  “Well for me I have a more important question now like who’s in charge of wedding planning?” asked Cujo. “I hope to meet some cuties. Some real Bettys, if you know what I mean.” Cujo eyeballed Caleb who sat behind him. “Make sure you invite some, okay? Open bar, right?”

  Caleb chuckled. “I’ll make sure that we have some hot women for you Cujo. That’s always the goal in a gay wedding, right?” Caleb paused because he realized he sounded more sarcastic than he meant to be. Cujo was, well, just being Cujo. “Anyway, Sebastian’s been doing a lot of the planning. But, I’ll probably have to take over since he can’t work on it while he’s in Rio.” Caleb laughed as he spoke. “So I’ll keep your wishes in mind.”

  Garrison put away his cellphone that he’d been staring at since he got in the pick-up then started the truck and began backing up. Cujo turned his head and faced Caleb again. “So you guys set a date in September?”

  “We’ve talked about a few,” offered Caleb in response. He didn’t want to mention that Sebastian’s mother wanted to have them delay the wedding. “We’ll probably set it soon.”

  Garrison took a side street shortcut as Cujo spoke. “You should have the wedding on the field in Daytona. That’d be great publicity and advertising.”

  “Umm. No way in hell,” said Caleb. “I want it to be a quiet, classy, but formal service.” Caleb watched the traffic they passed. “And even though I think a wedding on the field of the Speedway is an interesting idea, I’m not open to doing a stock car-themed wedding.”

  Garrison looked up from the driver’s seat and stared into the rearview mirror. Caleb and Garrison’s eyes met. “And that’s okay with Sebastian? This idea of having a traditional, formal affair?”

  Caleb hesitated for a moment before answering Garrison’s question. “Yeah, sure it is. I don’t want our wedding to be some three-ringed circus.” Caleb half-smiled. He wondered if his brother could tell by his voice that he didn’t sound so sure. Sebastian had worked several shifts at the station lately and they hadn’t talked about the wedding in the last few days.

  At least not since David had made his appearance.

  He worried that this was a reason Sebastian hadn’t talked about it lately.

  Chapter 4

  “Shit, we’re losing the sun!” Cujo glared at the sky.

  Garrison hastily parked the truck at an angle. “Hey, sunset surfing is fine. So quit your bitching.”

  Cujo clambered out of the front seat. “I can’t help it. I thought that photo shoot was one hour, two at the most. We were there more than six frigging hours, man.”

  Caleb hurried to the flatbed, opened the tailgate, and grabbed his board. “Well, at least you weren’t slathered with lard and coconut oil.”

  “We should’ve ditched your ass.” Cujo grabbed his shortboard as Garrison grabbed his. “Your shoot took up most of the time. Hell, where’s the surf wax?”

  “I’ll get it,” Caleb reached under the pile of towels and baseball caps in the backseat. He grabbed the Sex Wax and handed it to Cujo, who opened it and started rubbing it on his board.

  “You’re not stripping the old wax?” asked Garrison. “You used to be serious about these things.”

  “Nah, there’s just this spot that seems to get thin so I’ll put some on there. I know it’s not something you two perfectionists would do, but it’s my thing.” Cujo capped off the wax, slid it in a crack of the window, hefted his board, then walked as Garrison and Caleb followed. “Man, I wish we’d driven down to the inlet. These waves? At this time?” Cujo fingered some excess wax off his board. “I don’t know.”

  They rushed to the shoreline. “Looks like they’re about four feet,” said Caleb as he shaded his eyes.

  “More like three,” quipped Cujo. “All right, let’s make the most of it.”

  “Sorry, bro,” whispered Caleb. They walked shoulder to shoulder with Garrison on one side and Cujo on the other.

  “It’s not your fault,” said Garrison. “Joan should’ve have told us your photo shoot was going to take longer.”

  Cujo laughed. “Yeah, and I’m surprised your father agreed to some of those shots. Is he going to approve them?”

  “Well, based on your snickering and stupid comments during the whole thing, I know which ones you guys think were pretty bad,” said Caleb.

  “The ones in the really small Speedos were really…umm…interesting. Especially that one where you’re leaning against the car, your ass on the hood.” Garrison shook his head. “I can’t believe Joan told Dad that was okay. I bet she never ran it by him. Some of them were that photographer’s ideas, I think.”

  “My favorite one was Caleb holding the beer, and trying to balance the surfboard with the free hand.” Cujo walked into the water with the other two behind him.

  Caleb side-eyed his brother and Cujo. “You both need to shut the fuck up. I was told to do it; I did what I was told. End of story. You’re not the one that felt like a side dish being served up.”

  All three paddled out. The warm water next to the shoreline gave way to cooler water as they headed out several feet. Caleb reached a quiet point, before a break, then turned his back on the line of waves behind him. He sat up on the board, his legs churning slowly in place in the water and waited for Garrison to do the same. As Garrison’s younger brother, Caleb learned to wait for Garrison to start first. Even Cujo admitted that Garrison was the better surfer among t
he three so Garrison always got priority on waves.

  “You think Joan will get a calendar made of Caleb’s best swimsuit shots? I mean there were like a hundred pictures taken of him,” said Cujo, smirking.

  Caleb flipped him the bird. “Jealous? Maybe I’ll sign one for you so you can jerk off to it?”

  “That’s nasty. That’d be like incest,” said Cujo, his eyebrows raised, and his mouth open, his palms up, displaying mock horror. “Besides, you’re too pretty for me.”

  “You guys, stop. There’s a wave coming.” Garrison watched the wave crest, and remained seated on his shortboard, signaling to both that he was passing on it. Cujo and Caleb didn’t paddle. Since both Cujo and Caleb were equally matched surfers, they took whatever was closest to them, if Garrison passed, on an incoming wave. The sun’s orange rays were quickly disappearing over the horizon. “You remember the last time we all surfed at sunset?” asked Garrison.

  “It’s been a while,” said Caleb.

  Garrison picked up where he left off. “We haven’t surfed at sunset since, well, on this stretch of sand in fact since—”

  “Since lover boy here met his boyfriend and he got all serious about life and marriage.” Cujo chortled and splashed water on Caleb.

  “It’s fiancé, now,” whispered Garrison, throwing Cujo’s comment from earlier in the morning back at him.

  Caleb watched some seaweed and kelp float past him. Until they’d mentioned it, Caleb hadn’t thought about Sebastian and their wedding planning. In fact, as ridiculous as the photo session was and how long it took, that activity had kept Caleb’s mind off their nuptial details, or lack thereof.

  Maybe Sebastian’s getting cold feet? He hasn’t talked about a single detail about the wedding in the last few days.

  “Wave!” hollered Garrison.

  Caleb glanced over to Garrison but realized the wave was angling to where he was. “Shit.” Caleb paddled out, his stomach flat against the board, as he stroked the waters. He measured the wave and then stood but he moved too quickly and lost his balance. His feet flew up, he fell backward, and his board, tethered to his ankle came at him in the air. The action happened in a millisecond, and in enough time for Caleb to raise his hands over his eyes and face as the rails came down on him. He closed his eyes thankful that it wasn’t the fin side aimed at him, but he still winced when his head whipped back from the impact.