by Alex Berry
"I'm not--"
Travis snorted and raised his brow at the blatant lie coming from Blake's mouth.
"Bullshit, both you and Dickless are jealous of Ron and our relationship. Not that I blame you. What you don't get is we had to overcome a lot of shit; finally we decided it came down to us. Me and him. Nobody comes between that. You and Darryl don't have that, but you want it."
"Yeah, I want what you have with Ron. Who wouldn't? Ron's cool and all, but he's got you twisted to the point you don't even look at other men. I mean, when you guys are out, it's like it's just the two of you."
"Point of correction. I'm not blind. I see other people. I'm just not interested in other people. I'm happy at home, no need to stray. Besides, Ron'd hurt me if I looked at somebody else."
Blake snorted.
Travis glanced at him. "Y'all think cause my baby is a college-educated manager and all that, he don't get violent? Shit. Ron ain't no punk, he handles my big ass."
"I bet he does," Blake murmured, and laughed when Travis glared at him.
"Seriously. I respect the man and he respects me. I ain't tryin' to get in your business, but if Darryl told you he wanted to taste anything other than you, that's disrespectful and wrong."
Blake waved him aside. "He didn't say that."
Travis stared at him, anger rising. "How do you know he's cheating?"
"I didn't say he was cheating. I think he is. Besides--"
"Hold up, hold up. Stop this conversation." Travis rolled off the couch and stood. His jaw clenched as he stared at Blake. "You mean I been talking for what?" He looked at the wall clock. "The past ten minutes about something that hasn't happened? Dickhead's not cheating on you? You got me here giving advice on some bullshit you think might be true?" He walked up to Blake, who stepped backward. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
"What?" Blake stammered. "He does want to fool around with a black guy. He wants to see what it's like."
"Blindfold his ass and keep his hands out of your hair, ain't much difference after that," Travis spat. Throwing his hands up, he walked to the sliding glass door, opened it, and waved at Blake. "Get out."
"Travis, I really wanted to talk to you about this." Blake stared at him.
"No. You need to talk to Dumbass before he does make a mistake. Before your "what ifs" become real." He waited a beat. "Damn, I'm not a priest, I don't take confessions. So go find your lover and tell him what you want. Find your balls and stand up to his ass. I can't tell you more than that." He waved Blake toward the door. "I'm tired and have done my good deed for the day. It's time for you to leave."
Blake sighed and left.
Travis locked the door behind him and went to the sofa. "Dickhead and Dickless," he muttered, grabbing the remote.
Chapter 6
Ron strolled through the door a few hours later. Travis lay on the couch, asleep. For a moment, Ron watched the big guy breathe. Sometimes it was hard to believe he and Travis were partners. They were as different as night and day, but he loved that man with everything in him.
Despite his somewhat thuggish appearance, there was a soft, sweet, gooey center to Travis. He simply held it in reserve for those he liked. The first time granny met Travis, she'd asked him if he was in a gang. He'd been embarrassed, but Travis had laughed and said no, he was a loner and didn't like to hang with a bunch of people. That much was true; other than his best friend Jerome and his lover Joe, Travis was content to be alone or with him. Ron on the other hand, enjoyed people whether they worked for him or socially, he enjoyed going out and relaxing. They'd come to a happy compromise and went out a couple of times a month together, and then Ron would do happy hour with work associates or friends.
Remembering his surprise and the reason he was late, he hurried to the bedroom and put up the bags with his purchases. After digging through one of the larger bags, he pulled out a pair of black jeans and an urban print shirt. Looking them over, he smiled. Jeans and casual shirts weren't his normal wardrobe, but he wanted to surprise his lover.
Dressing quickly, he took a final look in the mirror. The pants were heavy and fit snug around his waist, but his ass was lost in the denim, making him look flat in the rear. Travis wouldn't like that. He grabbed the extra roll around his waist and sighed. It seemed that extra weight was more stubborn and harder to get rid of than gum on the bottom of a shoe. No matter how many crunches he did, it stuck with him. At least his arms had toned up and his chest showed some definition. Turning from side to side, he pulled the black and white shirt down. The multicolored patch pocket set off his eyes. Some name was emblazoned on the back; he'd seen Trav wear a similar look and thought he'd try it. But the big surprise was beneath the shirt. One last pat to his hair and he left the room barefoot to go wake up Travis.
Ron squeezed onto the couch beside his sleeping lover, and stroked his arm and chest. Smiling, his tongue flicked the tip of Travis's nipple, causing it to peak. Using his fingernail, Ron stroked the hardened pebble a few times before taking it into his mouth.
"Mmmm," Travis moaned, scooting over to give Ron more room. "When'd you get back?"
Ron released his nipple and moved closer. "A few minutes ago. I didn't see any blood anywhere and you looked peaceful. I guess Blake left?"
"Yeah." Travis' hand rubbed Ron's back and then stroked his rear cheeks.
"You talked to him?"
"Yeah." He bent forward and captured Ron's lips. All thoughts of Blake evaporated as Ron gave himself over to the kiss. Even after two years, there was nothing that compared to being in Travis's arms. His scent, his touch, his taste, still took Ron's breath away. The man turned his mind to mush.
"I missed you," Travis said, nibbling on his lips.
Ron's breath caught at the husky sound. He pulled his lover close and held on. Their height differences didn't make much difference when they were horizontal, and Ron made the most of it. Gently, his fingers traced Travis' lips and throat before he leaned forward and placed kisses across his face and neck.
"I love you," he whispered. Travis moaned and pulled him close. "Wait, I have something to show you." He pushed away and stood on shaky legs. Travis looked up at him through half-closed lids; his hand idly stroked his cock. Ron swallowed hard and knew he needed to get his surprise done quickly. Pulling his eyes from Travis's hard and long erection, he focused on his lover's naked chest.
Written on Travis' right pectoral, Ron saw his name. He'd wanted a ring, but Travis had gotten the tattoo, claiming rings came off or got lost, but tattoos were permanent. A warm feeling engulfed him. Travis had made that commitment to them over a year ago and today, he followed suit. Unbuttoning the shirt, he watched Travis's face for his reaction. At first, he stood still as his lover took in his jeans and shirt. A slow smile crawled up his face when Travis froze and sat up, staring at his chest.
"Babe, my name's on your chest." One of his fingers traced the letters. "I...I can't believe you did that." He looked up at Ron, a frown on his brow. "This is what you were doing when I called?"
Ron nodded, giddy at the surprise and pleasure on Travis's face. "I wanted to surprise you."
"You did." He touched the letters and pulled Ron close. "I love you." He laid his face on Ron's stomach and held him close. "I can't believe you did that." Leaning back, he looked up at Ron. "You hate needles. How were you able to stand this?"
The memory of the needles and the pain stole some of his joy, but seeing the pleasure on Travis' face made it worthwhile. "I do hate needles. But you don't want rings and I plan to be with you, so..."
"It's not that I don't want a ring, it's just I don't see them as necessary." He paused and looked at Ron. "But you really want a ring?"
Without thinking, he answered. "I'd like one, yes." What he really wanted was to get married, but he didn't think the time was right to knock on that door.
"Okay." Travis pulled him down on his lap and kissed his neck.
"Okay? So now that I have your name stamped on my chest, you're
willing to give me a ring?" He leaned back so he could see the expression on his lover's face.
"Yeah. For some reason I feel better about our relationship." He played with the snap of Ron's jeans until Ron pushed his hand away and stood.
Ron glared at him. "Let me get this straight. You had a problem with us before?"
Travis released a sigh as Ron backed away from his hand. He recognized that 'we're-going-to-talk' look on his partner's face. Damn, he was hard as a screw with no place to skewer. Moving things around, he got comfortable. A quick glance at Ron's 'I'm-waiting' face told him he wasn't off the hook.
"Let's face it, you could do better than me," Travis blurted. Something was definitely in the water to cause him to let out his deepest fear. He hadn't meant for that to come out. Now he had to deal with it and he wasn't ready.
"What?" Ron's face scrunched and then turned red. His lips thinned as he stared at Travis.
"You're college-educated, a manager in a large company, loving, sweet, hot and sexy. I'd be lying if I said somewhere in the back of my mind the thought hadn't crossed that you might find better and leave me." The moment the words left his mouth, a rush of anger and pain filled him. His jaw clenched. "I'd track you down and probably kill the bastard that touched you, but, the thought has crossed my mind."
Ron's mouth opened and closed, his face was a bright red. Either he was mad or well, he was mad, Travis thought, as he waited for the blow out.
"Me? Me leave you?" Ron snorted and walked in front of the TV. Travis watched his hips move in those black jeans. Unfortunately, they did little to highlight his baby's assets. It was a nice gesture, but Ron looked better in his tailored pants and shirts.
"Trav!"
He looked up; realizing Ron had been talking while he ogled his ass. "Yeah?"
He glared before continuing. "I have no intention of leaving you. I can't imagine anyone who gets me better than you do. You're my world." He stopped and looked over Travis' head to the wall. "But I'm just as guilty. In the back of my mind, I wonder if you'll meet someone trim and firm. Someone who can hold a beat, dance well, dress more hip, sound more hip. Someone who can relate better to where you came from. All that crosses my mind from time to time."
Travis stared at Ron for a second trying to process if he was serious or not. "You think I'd drop you for someone who can hold a beat and dance better? Or someone who dresses like me? Is that why you have on the jeans and shirt?"
"Well...it seemed like a fun idea at the time. Your frown makes me think I blew it." Ron pulled on his lower ear and stared at Travis.
"Sit down." Travis moved over as Ron crossed to the sofa and sat next to him. Leaning back, Travis pulled him backward so his head lay on his chest. Neither said anything while he gathered his thoughts.
Finally Travis spoke, "I'm not going to address the trim and firm bullshit. We've been together too long for you to still have those thoughts about your body and weight. I've loved on all of you this long; it's not an issue for me. You need to settle your weight issues in your own mind." He paused. "But the rest of that...wow. You sound like Dumbass who was here earlier." Ron tensed and tried to move. "No. Hear me out." Travis pulled his offended lover back against his chest.
"No name calling." Ron pouted.
"My bad, shouldn't have done that." He squeezed his shoulder. "Listen, I'm not a fool, I know you can't hold a beat, but you keep up with me when it matters. The first time I saw you, all starched and pressed in that thousand dollar suit, all I wanted was to fuck you." Snorting, Ron pushed him. "Seriously, I did. I like you pressed and polished, all GQ and shit. Don't ever think you need to change that for me. As far as being able to relate to where I came from, name one time you haven't understood what I've been through. Or when I misunderstood how you were raised. Baby, I don't want you to be like me. I think you're sexy as hell and if I see you like that, other dudes see it, too."
"Not really--"
"Yeah really. I don't know why you don't see yourself like I see you, but trust me, you're the type of man a guy wants to snuggle with. Someone he can trust to hold his heart and secrets. That's worth a whole lot more than shaking your ass to some beat or wearing shit that doesn't work for you."
"What do you mean? I'm wearing these jeans." Ron looked down at the pants and then up at him.
Travis laughed. "No, you have them on, but they don't work for you. Your ass got lost somewhere in there." He kissed his cheek to soften the blow. "But thanks for doing the whole "urban-ese" thing." Ron leaned into his chest and took his nipple into his hot mouth.
His skin tingled it felt so good. "I love you and I'm not going anywhere," Travis whispered as Ron lavished his chest and neck with wet kisses.
"Mmmm, me neither," Ron muttered between kisses.
"But I love the tattoo. That really rocks for me. Especially knowing it's not something you'd normally do. You deserve a special treat." Travis moved him to the side and stood. Ron smiled wide and grabbed him around the waist.
"What did you have in mind?" He turned, faced Travis, and went up on his toes to receive a kiss. Eyes closed, he groaned as he heard the doorbell.
"When do we go home?" Travis growled as he pulled Ron against his hardened rod. "There are too many interruptions here."
"I know." Ron patted his chest and pushed back as the doorbell rang again.
Travis fell back on the couch, a scowl on his face, grumbling.
Aggravated at being interrupted, Ron buttoned his shirt as he stalked to the door and looked out the peephole. Leaning his head against the doorjamb, he sighed, put a smile on his face and opened the door.
"Hi, Mrs. Scott, how are you?" He moved back so the older woman could step in. She was the chairperson of the organization his granny had wanted him to lease the house to.
"I'm well, Ron. I'm sorry for dropping by, but I couldn't find your number and I know you'll be leaving soon. I wanted to leave these papers so everything is ready for the women to move in tomorrow."
Ron looked up from the papers. "Tomorrow? You're not scheduled to take possession for two more days." This wasn't the first time the woman had miscalculated; she had a history of being forgetful.
The older woman's face creased in concentration. "Hmmm, I thought for sure it was the 13th, that's tomorrow. The girls are all packed and we've reassigned their rooms. Can't they move in early?" She looked at him, her eyes searching the house. He refused to pay for a hotel room when he had a free house. If anyone would be adjusting, it'd be her.
"No. Ms. Scott, I'm allowing your organization to use my home at a reduced rate. Helping unwed mothers was a big deal for my grandmother. But the house isn't ready and won't be until the 15th. Now all of that was explained in advance. I don't know what happened or how the dates got mixed up, but you'll need to find a place for them to stay until then."
Her skin reddened as her eyes skittered across the floor. "Yes, yes, you're right of course. I'll take care of it and we'll have them here in a couple of days."
"On the fifteenth," he said, offering a small smile.
"Yes. Will you be dropping off the keys?" She glanced into the living room and sent Travis a wave. He returned it.
"The attorney will make sure you have access. I'm not sure how he's handling that." He walked toward the door, hoping she'd follow.
"All right, thanks again. Flo was a wonderful woman and good friend to the girls in the program." He sensed her winding up to give her tribute to his granny again and cut her off.
"Yes, she had a soft spot for your program. Thanks for dropping off the paperwork." He opened the door, and offered his assistance down the steps. Just as she opened her car door and got inside, another car pulled up. Ron ground his teeth in frustration as Darryl and Blake parked. Mrs. Scott waved to the two men as she passed their car. Ron moved quickly to intercept them. He leaned in the driver's window.
"What do you want?" Aggravation rolled through his voice. All he wanted was to spend some quality time alone with his man. That was n
ot too much to ask.
"Damn, Cuz. What's got your balls twisted?" Darryl chuckled, staring up at him. Ron stared, waiting for an answer.
Looking around Darryl, Blake asked. "Is Travis here?"
Covering his surprise, he wondered what Travis had said to Blake. "Yeah, but this isn't a good time."
Neither man spoke. Ron backed away and headed for the house. "Ron!" Darryl yelled and opened his car door.
Ron stopped and closed his eyes. "What?" His voice had dropped a couple of octaves.
"We need to talk."
"Not a good time." He still hadn't turned to face them. In a few minutes, Travis would come to the door to see what was taking so long.