Brothers by Bond

by Brenda Cottern

  Mike didn't resist and just rolled onto his side until his head hung over the bucket. Moving his body was all it took and whatever booze was left in his stomach took up residence in the bucket. When Mike had nothing but dry heaves left, he realized his best friend had moved behind him. Johnny was rubbing between his shoulder blades and telling him to breath. For several moments, that was all Mike could do.

  "Alright bro," Johnny's voice felt very close to Mike's back and Mike realized Johnny was pressed against him again.

  He's killing me and doesn't even know it.

  "Roll back over and crash," Johnny pulled on his hip and Mike moved as his brother suggested.

  Chapter 9

  Mike must have crashed back out because he awoke with a start. The bed was empty and he lay listening for several minutes but heard no signs of life. At least not upstairs.

  Mike's bladder forced him up even as he was wondering if Johnny being in his bed, not only lying against him but hard to boot, was a dream. By the time he was finished in the bathroom, he had practically talked himself into the fact that it was. Mike walked back into the bedroom and stopped dead in his tracks.

  The puke bucket was gone and a lime green Post-it was on the lamp. Shit. He saw the bottle of water and Advil on his nightstand as he approached the Post-it like it was a deadly viper.

  'Take these ↓↓↓. We will talk later. J.'

  What the hell did that mean? Mike's head was still pounding with a dull ache of his hangover and he didn't know if the Post-it was a good or bad thing. The pills were swallowed and that was when he realized that something had died in his mouth. Back to the bathroom. Two rounds of brushing his teeth and using mouthwash seem to exhume the corpse.

  Mike really didn't want to face Johnny, let alone talk about the night before. He knew his best friend was like a pit-bull with a bone when he wanted answers. Mike stepped into the shower and tried to remember more of the night before. Nothing but blanks after sitting at the kitchen table and dodging Johnny's questions.

  Oh shit. What if he had said something he shouldn't have? There was a reason that he hadn't gotten drunk with Johnny since his divorce. Mike groaned the sound echoing in the shower and it reminded him of lying in bed with Johnny.

  Dread and confusion coursed through him when he thought about Johnny. For once, his dick didn't even twitch. Since when did he become such a pussy chicken shit? Oh yeah, since he started fantasizing about his best friend and feared losing him.

  Mike stepped from the shower, dried off, and got dressed as his mind continued to spin. Johnny had lied about his recovery because he wasn't ready to go back to his place and Mike had no idea why. But that wasn't the biggest of Mike's concerns. He had no idea what, if anything, he said to his brother while he was drunk.

  Regardless of whether he confessed his true feelings or not, Mike needed time away from his best friend so he could figure out how to deal with his fucked up feelings.

  Mike headed downstairs and didn't hear Johnny at all. The smell of coffee lured him toward his kitchen where he found another lime green Post-it on the coffee maker.

  'Drink me. ↓↓↓.'

  Mike was starting to feel like Alice down the damn rabbit hole. In more than one way, too. Johnny was gone which could only mean one thing. He must have said something. However, no matter how hard he tried to remember the night before, he couldn't. Advil and coffee. Parting gifts before the real 'fuck off' came.

  Mike was on his third cup of coffee when he heard his front door open and close. Every muscle in his body tensed as he watched the kitchen archway. Johnny appeared and leaned against the arch, arms folded across his chest and his 'cop look' on his face.

  So not good, Mike thought as he returned the icy sky blue stare. He wasn't going to be the one to break the silence and at some point decided he wasn't going to apologize for his feelings either. Along with that decision, he accepted the loss of his best friend and brother, even though it broke his heart.

  "So, what the fuck was last night all about, bro?" Johnny's voice was even, not joking or sounding pissed, and Mike couldn't read into what that meant.

  "I don't want to talk about it," Mike replied just as evenly and forced his white knuckled fingers to loosen the grasp on his coffee mug.

  "You don't want to talk about it?" Johnny echoed.

  "No."

  "Well, too fucking bad," Johnny told him and Mike just continued to meet his best friend's hard glare.

  "I have nothing to say." He wouldn't say goodbye.

  "Nothing to say?" Johnny echoed him again and if the conversation hadn't been so serious, Mike would've busted his best friend's balls for acting like a parrot.

  "Just go home, Johnny." Mike finally looked away into his half empty coffee cup.

  "What?!?" Johnny practically yelled at him.

  "Go. Home." Mike looked back at Johnny and surprised himself by not flinching under the anger he saw on his brother face.

  "Fine!" Johnny pushed himself off the archway and dug into the front pocket of his jeans. Mike watched as Johnny pulled poker chips from his pocket and threw them onto the table before turning on his heel to leave.

  Seconds later, Mike heard his front door slam and it felt like the last nail being driven into the coffin that was now his heart. He looked down at the table and saw the multicolored poker chips staring back at him as if the gay pride rainbow were mocking him. Johnny knew. There was no helping the tears that began to fall. His greatest fear had just manifested itself, and he felt numb. Mike was so careful these last six months and he had no one to blame for his fuck up the night before but himself. How could he have been so stupid to risk so much?

  A noise from the front of his house pulled him out of his heartache party and he stood up from the table. Mike scrubbed his face with his hands and started toward the living room. Johnny must have forgotten something or else his back to kick my ass. Mike made it as far as the kitchen archway before he encountered Johnny.

  Fuck, he's pissed.

  Mike had no time to say anything and barely got his hands up when Johnny grabbed him by his T-shirt and slammed him so hard into the side of the fridge that Mike heard the bottles inside rattle.

  "You're not getting off the hook that easily, Mikey." Johnny slammed him against the fridge again to emphasize his point.

  Mike brought his hands up, palms flat against Johnny's chest, to prevent Johnny from slamming him again. He could see how pissed off his best friend was and knew he should just let his brother beat the shit out of him. Hell, he probably deserved it after last night, even though he couldn't remember what happened. However, he wasn't going to stand there idly and allow his best friend to kick his ass.

  "Let me go, Johnny," Mike's voice was surprisingly calm even though his heart was pounding a mile a minute.

  "Fuck that!" Johnny growled and Mike felt his best friend tense again as Johnny's hands tightened on Mike's T-shirt.

  Mike's reply died on his lips as Johnny pulled him forward into a rough kiss. The shock of feeling his best friend's lips against his own short-circuited his brain and he didn't react at all. It wasn't until Johnny pulled back from him that he snapped out of his daze.

  Sky blue eyes stared into his own chocolate brown as Johnny seemed to wait for his reaction. Mike's body was steps ahead of his mind as his hands tightened into fists on Johnny's T-shirt. So rough was he, that when Mike pulled his best friend to him, they both slammed into the side of the fridge again.

  Mouths crashed against one another so hard that their teeth clacked. A lip split, whose it did not seem to matter even as the metallic taste of blood mingled with the kiss. Hands tore roughly at clothing, yanking and tugging, as both men fought to feel more skin. T-shirts were pushed as high up as they could go without breaking the kiss that seemed to be devouring them. Nothing was soft or slow as each man tried to feel more the other.

  "Off," Johnny's voice breathed into Mike's mouth as he fought with the T-shirt in his grip.

  Mike bar
ely registered the word but lifted his arms when the insistent tugging at his pits did not stop. His mouth did not leave Johnny's until his shirt gave him no choice but to break the kiss. Johnny's lips were back on him the moment the T-shirt cleared his head. Kissing. Licking. Biting. None of it gentle, not like a woman, as if he had a thirst that just couldn't be quenched.

  Mike's mind was trying to catch up with the sensations that were overwhelming his body. It registered that this was Johnny, his best friend, his brother, and he wanted to sort through his confusion but the taste and feel shut down any rational thought. Rough hands were on his neck, shoulders, pecs; it was like he felt his best friend everywhere and it still wasn't enough.

  Mike pushed back against the strength that was Johnny and was slammed back into the fridge. Somewhere inside, glass broke and shit fell off the fridge shattering onto the floor. However, his mind didn't register the damage they seemed to be inflicting on the appliance and its contents.

  Mike finally had his hands on his skin, grasping and pulling Johnny closer, hard enough to bruise. Another moan escaped through his swollen lips, in between his panting breaths, when Johnny bit into the muscle between his neck and shoulder. His hand at Johnny's waist fisted and he never noticed when he ripped the denim belt loop as he pulled his brothers hips toward him.

  Aroused was too polite of a word of what he was feeling. Hell, it fucking didn't even begin to cover it. He needed. Needed more. More friction and as his best friend's mouth latched once more onto his own, it was as if Johnny had read his mind. Another moan, into his brother's mouth this time, when he felt that strong hand grasp him through his jeans. His hips jerked forward of their own violation, thrusting, pushing, and grinding.

  Mike felt the shift of his best friend when a muscular thigh slid between his legs to replace the hand. All of his brain cells were now taking up residence in his hard cock. Shamelessly, he ground against whatever hardness his best friend was willing to give him as he moved his mouth to return the bites he was enjoying.

  Johnny's own panting was loud in his ears but not nearly as loud as the moan he received when he drug his teeth along his brothers jaw before roughly biting the sensitive skin over his jugular. The hard thigh he was grinding against, in combination with the needy sounds that reached his ears, totally undid him. Mike's body tensed and his cock became painful when his release filled his jeans.

  Johnny's mouth was on his body, never stopping, and it wasn't until Mike felt the warm wetness splatter against his abs that he even realized his best friend had opened his jeans. That realization was only a fleeting thought as his orgasmic high kicked into full force. Johnny crashed into him, if that was even possible as close as they were, and Mike wasn't sure who was supporting whom to prevent them from sinking to the kitchen floor.

  Ragged breath and pounding hearts were all that Mike heard as his body mellowed. No thought was given to the wetness in his jeans, the stickiness between him and Johnny, as he held his best friend close. No thought was given too much at all, as his body felt like Jell-O. Even if Mike wanted to think, he was glad he could not because he knew it would only welcome the confusion back. All he wanted to do was feel and feel he did.

  Johnny's muscular frame was pushed against him so close it was amazing they could both breathe. One of his hands was wrapped around Mike's waist while the other had a death grip on Mike shoulder next to where his head lay. Mike began to feel the sweat that ran down his flank cool as his raw neck throbbed.

  Mike loosened his clenched fist that he had tangled in the waist of Johnny's jeans and moved his hand around to Johnny's sweaty back. His other arm embraced his best friend across the shoulders, his hand holding Johnny in place. Their heart rate slowed and breathing calmed as minds reengaged thought.

  What the fuck just happened? Was the first thought Mike had, like he didn't know. The confusion that settled into his mind tried to take over once more but he pushed it away, afraid the closeness would end.

  "Bro?" Mike felt the warm breath of Johnny's voice on his shoulder and he stilled the hand that was unconsciously tracing circles on his best friend's neck. Mike's whole body tensed under Johnny. He had no idea what was about to happen or be said but he dreaded it, whatever it was.

  "Don't do that," Johnny he lifted his head and those sky-blue eyes froze Mike like nothing before ever had. Mike slammed his eyes shut and couldn't look into the gaze that undid him; the gaze that seemed to look directly into his soul.

  The tentative touch of lips to his own startled him but he kept his eyes closed and tried not to think. The soft kiss continued. No roughness now. Just the general press of lips, a slide of tongue, and finally a nibble on his bottom lip. A low moan escaped his lips when he finally allowed his best friend into his mouth. Mike didn't even realize he tried to follow when Johnny pulled away, breaking the kiss.

  "That's better," Johnny's voice was soft and Mike finally found the courage to open his eyes. He stared into the eyes that he knew better than his own and tried not to read anything into what he was seeing. What was he seeing?

  "You're thinking too much, Mikey," Johnny said and stopped Mike's thoughts about his brother's look dead in their tracks. "Don't think, Mikey, it makes my brain hurt." Johnny grinned.

  Mike was thinking of an answer, any answer, but before he could come up with something there was a knock on his front door. Johnny groaned and Mike panicked but his best friend did not step away.

  "Breathe, Mikey," Johnny said and it was only then that he realized he was panting again and not in a good way. "Relax." Johnny's hand moved from his shoulder and came to rest in the center of his chest. "It's your house, bro," Johnny reminded him and stepped back.

  Mike immediately felt the loss of his best friend but didn't move to follow. His eyes followed Johnny's hand as it slid from his chest to tuck himself in. It was his best friend putting himself back in order, zipping up his jeans, and pulling down his T-shirt, that reminded Mike of his own state. He had nothing to tuck away. Like a teenager with no control at all, he came in his jeans. Don't think about it, Mike thought but it was too late and he felt his face heating up. The knock on the front door sounded again, thankfully distracting him.

  "Go change," Johnny smirked as he looked Mike over from head to toe. Unbelievably, Mike felt his cock stir. "I'll get the door," Johnny turned and Mike followed.

  At the base of the stair, before opening the door, Johnny turned back to him. "Don't forget a shirt," he almost whispered. "A turtleneck might work." His smirk turned into a grin and that grin made every bit of Mike's raw neck throb again.

  "Asshole," Mike replied before taking the stairs two at a time. He had just reached the top when he heard his brother greeting the folks.

  Chapter 10

  Mike took the fastest shower of his life. If he hadn't smelled of sex so badly, he would have just gotten changed. But the combination of his own cum in his jeans, how embarrassing, and Johnny's across his abs and chest made just a change of clothes and impossible.

  He trotted down the stairs and into the kitchen. Mike was greeted with the sight of Mrs. B. emptying it dustpan full of glass into the trash and Johnny putting the takeout menus under the magnets on the fridge. It took every ounce of willpower and his police training for Mike not to blush.

  Mr. B. was sitting at the table, first glass of iced tea in front of him staring at Mike. Again, Mike felt like a suspect in an arson case who had something to hide. Only this time, he did.

  "Hey, Mr. B.," Mike said as normally as he could before turning to his adoptive mother. "Mrs. B., you didn't need to do that. I would've got it."

  She waved him off as if he was being silly and said, "Already done."

  "Thanks then," Mike gave her a smile and glanced at Johnny. He had no idea what he had told the folks about the mass but he hoped it was good, as he remembered the rattling glass in the fridge.

  "Dinner at the house tonight," Johnny said with his typical grin as he leaned on the counter. "I already told them that
would work since you're getting off." Johnny winked at him and Mike felt the urge to blush and throttle his brother at the same time for the innuendo.

  "Sounds good," Mike replied as Mrs. B. made her way to the table and sat down.

  Mike could feel Mr. B.'s gaze still on him and he tried not to fidget as he retrieved a glass to pour his own iced tea. The pitcher was already on the counter and that was all the confirmation that Mike needed, to know that the interior of the fridge must be a mess. They never left the tea out. Warm iced tea was just gross!

  Mike filled his glass and walked behind where Mr. B. set to take a seat at the table. It was as he was passing behind his adoptive father, that he noticed the flash of black on the floor by the sliding glass doors. His discarded T-shirt. It was directly in the line of sight where Mr. B. sat and Mike suppressed a groan of embarrassment and fought the blush that threatened.

  "So, what are you feeding us tonight, mom?" Johnny asked and Mike knew that Johnny had seen him spot the T-shirt.

  "Sausage, peppers, and onions. I know how much you boys love that," Mrs. B. replied.

  "Sounds good. I love the sausage," Johnny replied and Mike was glad he hadn't been drinking his tea or he may have snorted it out his nose. Even though his cock twitched again, Mike thought, I'm going to kill him.

  "I know you do and it has been so long since you had it." Mrs. B. carried on and if Mike hadn't known his adoptive mother better, he would have sworn that Johnny's tendency for innuendo's came from her. "I thought it would be nice."

  "Anything you cook is great, Mrs. B.," Mike said because he needed this particular conversation to end before it got worse.

  Mike took a long swig of his iced tea and it was just as he was lowering his glass that something on the side of the fridge caught his eye. At first, he wasn't sure what was out of place on the stainless steel so he cast quick glances until what he was seeing finally registered.

  Oh, God! A loan, long trail of cum, was steadily making its way down the side of the fridge. Panic enveloped him again when he realized that it was in the line of sight of Mr. B. whenever he turned to talk to Johnny.