All Cocks Stories Box Set Volume 2

by Smith,T. M.

  Let’s recap here. Sex with Gabe, twice, still talking my head off. Kiss with Tristan, once, can’t get a word out of him. Micah’s thoughts were a mess. Gabe, Tristan, the shoot earlier in the day, hell, the job for that matter. Micah had been thinking about letting the job go for a few weeks, his heart just not in it anymore. What he would do for money he didn’t know right then, he had savings built up from the shoots he’d done the past year and half with All Cocks. Victor refused to take money from any of the guys that stayed out at the house, for rent or for food, so the majority of Micah’s earnings still sat in his bank account. He’d call Andrew tomorrow and let them know he was giving notice; the job didn’t hold the same flare it did in the beginning.

  Micah’s last stray thought before he was pulled under the waves to swim with the lovely lady Ambien, was whether or not straight people had the same problems that gay men did.

  ***

  Tristan lay on his couch drinking a beer and trying to find something on television to watch. He stared down at his phone, resisting the urge to grab it and send a text to Micah. He missed Micah and Gabe both something fierce. He had analyzed everything over and over from both points of view: Tristan the man that was falling hard for both men before he found out they’d already taken their own relationship to the physical level and Tristan the therapist that tried to reason away the pain and sorrow Tristan the man felt.

  He lay there continuing to stare blankly at the TV, not really seeing anything as he mindlessly flipped through channels, eyes wavering to the phone every minute or so. He leaned forward and snatched the phone up, pulling up Micah’s number, his thumb hovering over the phone icon, itching to press down and hear his voice on the other line. “Goddammit!” He tossed the phone back onto the coffee table, sitting up and draining the last bit of beer from the bottle in his hand, the urge to throw it against the wall stronger than the need to toss it into the recycle bin.

  A few minutes later the remote joined the phone after Tristan finally turned the TV off and headed to his bedroom by way of the kitchen to drop the bottle in the recycle bin. He lay there in bed, staring up at the ceiling, unable to fall asleep though, his mind racing. He wondered if Gabe had gotten the curtain rod hung in his bedroom. The one Tristan didn’t have time to do the last time he was at the brownstone, right after they first moved in. He wondered how Micah was doing, really doing. The last couple of VRE sessions had been tense, not just because they always left Micah feeling raw and vulnerable, but because Tristan had slowly been distancing himself from the beautiful man.

  Then Tristan remembered Micah mentioning having to go back to work, that he had a shoot on the schedule a couple days after their last session. It was probably a bad idea, but Tristan got up and flipped on the bedside lamp, wandering over to the corner desk and powering up his laptop. Within minutes the home page for All Cocks was loading and the first tease on the main page was one with Micah and a new model.

  “Aiden Cox teaches All Cocks’ newest model, Jae Hart, the ropes.”

  Tristan clicked on it and waited for the video to load. Right away he could tell just from Micah’s posture and body language that he was not happy to be there. The man, Jae, was tall and built like a goddamn Greek statue. He had dark wavy hair, dull brown eyes and an uncut cock. “Don’t see too many of those anymore,” Tristan said to the screen. It was painful for Tristan to watch the video, so he couldn’t even imagine how Micah had felt doing the shoot. Micah bottomed for the scene and more than once, when the camera was focused in mainly on Jae, Tristan kept his attention on Micah and saw him wince.

  Tristan had initially gone to the site to watch a video of Micah and maybe jerk off. Wallow in self-pity for five minutes because he was here, alone, jacking off to a video of the guy he was currently treating professionally, and wanting personally. Talk about wildly unprofessional. There was a thumbs up button members could click if they liked a video, and a thumbs down if not. Tristan noticed that the numbers for both were split down the middle. “I’ll just add one to the dislike pile,” he said, clicking on the thumbs down. Another screen appeared with links to several other Aiden Cox videos and Tristan noticed there was one with Kris Alen that he had not yet seen. He realized it must have been the video they shot the day that Tristan and Gabe met for a session out at the house on Mamaroneck while Micah and Chris worked upstairs.

  Tristan snorted, clicking the link to load the video. “Can’t possibly be worse than the other one.”

  He sat there and watched with rapt attention as Chris took control of the scene, gently bending and moving Micah in such a way that his half-leg was rarely shown. He was tender and attentive with a forceful edge. The look on Micah’s face at the end when he came had Tristan’s semi-hard dick growing hard again. His heart wasn’t in it anymore though. Shutting down his laptop, he crawled back into bed and pulled the covers over his head, eventually drifting off.

  Though he slept fitfully, Tristan woke the next morning with renewed clarity. He would have dinner with Micah and Gabe and he would tell them how he felt. He was a grown-ass man that needed to grow the fuck up and be honest with them both; let the pieces fall where they landed. Enough was enough and Tristan didn’t like the person he was becoming in an effort to protect his heart. Besides, there was still a snowball’s chance in hell that they both cared enough for him that his embarrassingly wild fantasy of a threesome could become a reality.

  Yeah, right. In your dreams Tris, in your dreams.

  Chapter 18 | Ties that bind

  Gabe was fluttering through the kitchen like a nervous bird when Micah came down Friday afternoon. The smell of fresh bread baking assaulted Micah’s senses before he made it halfway down. “Damn, smells good Gabe.”

  “Let’s just hope it tastes as good as it smells,” Gabe joked, shoving his hands into the oven mitts, yanking the door open and pulling out the bread. It wasn’t a loaf, like Micah expected, but four large, round rolls.

  Gabe laughed at the look of utter confusion on Micah’s face. “Bread bowls,” Gabe said, grabbing a bread knife and cutting the top off of one of the rolls, then spooning the bread out in the middle. He held it up to Micah. “I made beef stew and I’m going to serve it in the bread. I’m going to take the insides and cut it up, then toss them in some olive oil and spices and put them back in the oven to crisp.”

  “Why?” Micah asked him, reaching for a banana. Gabe smacked his hand, shoving him away.

  “Homemade croutons for the salads, of course.” Gabe rolled his eyes.

  “Yes, of course, Betty.” Micah jumped out of the way when Gabe tried to snap the dish towel at him. He enjoyed ribbing Gabe about his latest hobby: cooking. He had gone on an online shopping spree when they first moved in, ordering every pot, pan, gadget and contraption one could use in the kitchen and put them all to use, much to the dismay of Micah’s waistline. The bread machine though, that was Gabe’s favorite new toy, and Micah had to admit, he had grown to love all the different breads and rolls his roommate could make.

  He walked over to the kitchen table and whistled low. “Fine china, candles — who are we expecting for dinner, dear? The Queen of England?”

  “Shut your face! It’s the first time I’m cooking for Tris; we usually eat out. So I want to make everything nice and… welcoming.” Gabe stared Micah down, which was comical, what with his oven-mitted hands resting on his hips.

  “I’m sure Tristan won’t notice anything for the first hour. He’ll be too busy freaking out because you cut your hair.” Colton hadn’t been the only one of their friends to drop jaw at Gabe’s shorter style. Victor had cussed up a storm in a language Micah didn’t understand. He only knew they were pretty ugly words by the way Andrew glared daggers at his husband, while patting Gabe on the back, telling him his hair cut made him look more mature and distinguished.

  Micah actually liked the change now that he had gotten used to it. And he agreed, it definitely made Gabe look closer to his twenty-something age, rather than an older te
enager. A knock at the door announced the arrival of their dinner guest. Gabe squealed, tossing the oven mitts on the counter, bounding over to the door like a puppy that had been left home alone all day. Micah laughed and rolled his eyes.

  Just before Gabe turned the knob, Micah shouted for him to wait. “Let me open the door and get him in the house before you give the man a heart attack on our front stoop.” Micah waved Gabe out of the way.

  Tristan was looking back over his shoulder when Micah opened the door. When he turned and smiled, Micah’s legs, understandably, wobbled. Tristan wore a slate blue Henley under his denim jacket, the color making the blue of Tristan’s eyes seem brighter than normal. Tristan leaned forward until he could whisper in Micah’s ear. “Can I come in?”

  “Yeah… of course, come… jacket… bread bowls.” Micah was stammering. Tristan chuckled. The deep, baritone voice resonated through every cell in Micah’s body. God, no wonder he couldn’t stop thinking about that fucking kiss.

  “Tris!” Gabe flung himself in Tristan’s arms.

  This time, when Tristan spoke, it was more of a growl. “What the hell happened to your hair?”

  Micah tried unsuccessfully to cover his laugh with a cough. He tossed Tristan’s jacket over the top of the coat rack that sat in the corner by the door before leading Tristan over to the table where they could sit and talk while Gabe finished dinner.

  The three of them sat and ate, Micah and Tristan both raving over the bread bowls. They drank the bottle of wine Tristan brought, and three or four more while that sat and talked and laughed. The conversation took a turn on to serious street when Gabe asked Tristan point-blank why he had been avoiding them.

  “I care about both of you; I hope you know that. But the morning after we kissed, Micah, when you told me about what happened between you and Gabe, I just felt like I was standing in the way of you two being together. For the first time since we all started, this” — Tristan waved his hand at Micah, then Gabe then himself — “whatever it is with us, I felt like a third wheel.”

  “But…” Gabe spoke, falling silent when Tristan held his hand up.

  “I told myself I was going to be completely honest with you.” Tristan stared into Gabe’s gorgeous blue eyes, knowing right then exactly why he had chosen the name Gorgeous Gabe when he shot porn. Smiling, he turned and looked down the length of the table, catching those amazing amber eyes that had drawn Tristan into Micah’s orbit since that first day by the pool. “Both of you, get everything out on the table, so to speak.” Tristan lowered his hand to the table and Gabe reached for him, laying his smaller hand over Tristan’s, nodding for him to continue.

  Holding Micah’s gaze, Tristan exhaled, letting all the tension escape his body. “I probably would have pursued you from the start, Micah. But then I’m a shrink, I was trained to read body language and yours spoke loud and clear: you wanted Gabe. You’ve always been very protective of him, and it’s that protective, devoted nature you have that held my attention, even when I knew he was the one you wanted.”

  Turning his attention to Gabe, Tristan smiled. “The more I got to know you I could see why Micah was so drawn to you. Not only do the two of you share a common loss, you helped each other to grieve over your losses. Your soul is so pure Gabe, it’s like this beacon that people gravitate to. So, I found myself attracted to both of you. I found myself wanting so much more than merely a professional relationship, wanting to be more than just friends.”

  No one spoke for a few intense moments. “I don’t know what I thought would happen with the three of us, but I was starting to give some serious consideration to having a conversation with Victor, Andrew and Mattie about the ins and outs of their three-way relationship.”

  Micah and Gabe both gasped at Tristan’s words. Gabe stood and carried his plate to the kitchen, dropping it into the sink with a loud clang that made Micah wince. He didn’t jump up, go on the defensive or revert into a flashback though, which spoke volumes for the VRE therapy he was going through with Tristan.

  “Damn, I didn’t intend to come here and unload this on you guys. I just, I’ve been pretty fucking miserable the last month, not seeing you guys all the time. I guess I needed to come here and see where we stood.” Micah’s eyes widened with Tristan’s declaration, darting back and forth between both men, while Gabe held up the kitchen counter, head down, utterly silent. The silence was stifling.

  “Well, I guess I have my answer.” Tristan stood and took his plate and wine glass into the kitchen, sitting them in the sink. He ran his hand down Gabe’s arm before turning and walking toward the door. His jacket was in one hand, the other on the doorknob when Gabe finally spoke.

  “Wait Tris… Please, don’t go,” Gabe begged. Tristan froze, unmoving and silent. “Please.” Gabe’s voice sounded so small; Tristan looked over his shoulder and nodded. “Let’s… can we go into the living room?” Gabe asked.

  “Okay,” Micah and Tristan both responded.

  “Good, bring your glasses,” Gabe said over his shoulder, opening the fridge and grabbing a bottle of his favorite reisling. He took his time opening the bottle of wine, even pouring a small bit into his glass and drinking it. “Cowboy up, Gabe,” he whispered to the now-empty kitchen, smiling at the words. It was something Gio used to say to him, and for the first time since his death, Gabe thought about him, remembered him without overwhelming sadness. It solidified what Gabe was about to do, made him realize it was right the right choice, or as Gio had told him in his dream, they were the right choice.

  Micah and Tristan both looked up when Gabe padded into the living room, barefoot. There was a fire already blazing, keeping the room toasty warm. Gabe filled both men’s glasses, then his own. Setting the bottle on the coffee table, he dragged the ottoman that went with the big arm chair over to the front of the couch.

  The silence was maddening. Micah and Tristan kept exchanging glances while not fully taking their eyes off Gabe. Micah opened his mouth to ask Gabe if he was okay when Gabe finally spoke, his eyes planted firmly on the floor.

  “When Gio died, I think a part of me died with him. I hurt so bad, all-the-way-down-to-my-bones pain, couldn’t-catch-my-breath-because-it-hurt pain. I told myself the day of his funeral, standing next to the casket as I held his mother’s hand while she cried...” Gabe sniffled and Micah moved his hand as if to reach for him but Tristan stopped him, shaking his head. Gabe choked down the tears and powered on.

  “I told myself that I would never love anyone ever again. That way I would never feel that kind of pain again. But you know what’s worse?” Gabe lifted his head and met their eyes, both men shook their heads. “Being alone, utterly and miserably alone. But I haven’t been alone, have I? You two have been there for me every step of the way.” Gabe sat his glass down on the floor at his feet and reached for Micah’s hand. “You sat with me while I cried myself to sleep for weeks and weeks. You made sure I ate and socialized and bathed.”

  Micah laughed at that, nodding, smiling at the memory of a ripe Gabe that hadn’t showered in at least a week. “I kind of had to. It was that, or Victor was threatening to take you out on the boat and leave you in the middle of the Sound.”

  All three of them chuckled at that — they all knew Victor very well would have. “And you.” Gabe turned to Tristan, reaching for his hand as well. “You walked into my life, my fucking wrecked life, and helped me put it back together. You never asked for anything in return; neither of you have.”

  Gabe gripped their hands hard and took a couple of deep, relaxing breaths. “Tonight is the first time in a very long time that I felt anything close to what I felt when Gio died.”

  Four wide eyes and two open mouths stared back at Gabe. He sat back, dropping both men’s hands, shaking his head at them. “Just… let me talk, okay? You had the chance to get everything off your chest Tristan, now let me get this all out. Then you can ask questions and we can talk about it all, everything, the three of us, together.”

  That took Tri
stan completely off-guard, eyes wide now for a different reason. He sat back against the couch. Gabe stared at him, waiting. There was an odd mixture of seriousness and softness in his light blue eyes. Tristan finally nodded as did Micah, both of them anxiously waiting for Gabe to open up about his feelings.

  “I don’t know when I started seeing either one of you differently; I couldn’t tell you the exact moment, I mean. But somewhere in the middle of all the insanity that has been my life this past year, I started to want more than friendship. The feelings were stronger, more intense for you, Micah. Possibly because we’ve lived together in one way or another all that time, our bond started out as friendship, whereas with you Tristan, it was professional. The first time I can remember thinking that I wanted to kiss you was the night we had dinner with Harold, the night we stayed at your apartment. But then I saw you two kissing.” Gabe stalled after that comment long enough for Micah to say something.