All Cocks Stories Box Set Volume 2

by Smith,T. M.

  “Really, Dad? Really? Were you just making out like a goddamn teenager in my living room?” Dusty was incensed. When his dad blushed he growled, turning and stomping into the bathroom and slamming the door like a petulant child.

  “Night, son.” his dad called out as he passed the bathroom door.

  It didn’t register when he first walked back into the bedroom that the lamp was on. He was too busy muttering under his breath. “D, what’s wrong?” David asked sleepily.

  “My dad is a ho. Fucking making out like a horny teenager in the living room.” Dusty tore his shorts off, tossing them toward the laundry hamper. When he turned to look at David, he was rewarded with an effusive grin. Instantly, all the stress simply melted away. So what if his dad was flirting with the doctor? He was a grown-ass man. The only thing that needed Dusty’s attention was his lover. A brief pang of anger tilted his gut when his eyes fell on the ace bandage wrapped around David’s elbow. Deep breaths Dusty, deep, calming, breaths, he repeated over and over in his head.

  Climbing under the sheet, he pulled David close and held on tight. “I love you so much D, it breaks my fucking heart that I wasn’t there to stop you from having to go through that.”

  David pulled back enough to glance up at him. “Dusty, I know you love me, but you can’t always be there to pick up the pieces when they fall. I won’t lie to you and tell you I’m fine, I’m not. But we’ll get through this together.” Dusty acknowledged David’s words with a gentle kiss, holding him close, falling asleep with his lover safe in his arms.

  Chapter 19 | Mothers and Motherfuckers

  An obnoxious chirping sound threatened to pull Dusty out of the blissful dream he was having. He and David were in the large bedroom with the four-poster bed that used to be out at the house in Mamaroneck. The windows were open, a quiet breeze lifting the curtains as it floated into the room. David lay beneath him, his blond hair, blue eyes and perfectly blushed skin a contrast to the all-white bedding that surrounded them. “D, please, make love to me,” David begged so beautifully.

  CHIRP-CHIRP-CHIRP

  “Motherfucker,” Dusty growled, grabbing the phone that shattered his wet dream and none too gently swiped to the left to answer the call. “Yeah, who is this, what the fuck do ya want?” He snarled into the phone.

  “Dustin Randall Anderson, don’t make me get on a plane and fly out to New York just to kick your ass.” His mother’s jovial voice broke through his half asleep haze.

  “Shit, Mom, sorry…ah, hello?”

  Maggie Anderson snorted. “Nice save, son. Anyway, your father has been there for several days now. I’d thought you would have called me as soon as his plane landed, unless, wait. Have you and your father…talked, yet?”

  “That depends. Have we talked about the threesomes you two participated in when you were in college? Or have we talked about you two getting a divorce? Wait, maybe you’re asking if we’ve talked about the fact that Dad is actually bisexual. No, wait, I know…you must be asking if he’s told me about my mother getting engaged to another man while she’s still married to my father. That about sum it all up, Mom?” Dusty sighed.

  He expected his mother to have some witty comeback, maybe deny one of the statements he made, or defend her right to be as promiscuous as she damn well pleased when she was younger. Margaret Anderson, Maggie to most, was not a woman to mince words. What Dusty didn’t expect was the wailing cackle that pierced his ear drums.

  “I’m happy I amuse you, mother.” Dusty made sure the words were dripping with sarcasm.

  “I…oh goddamn…hang on a sec.” She continued to laugh hysterically. Dusty was up and standing in front of the coffee pot pouring himself a cup when Maggie finally composed herself enough to speak in entire sentences.

  “I know this must all come as a shock to you sweetie, and I’ll gladly answer any questions you have. I hope you know that your father and I will always be your parents first. That comes before anything or anyone else, you know that son, right?”

  Dusty took a sip of hot, steaming goodness before answering his mom’s question. “Yeah, Dad already went over that. Look, Mom, I was shocked and confused at first. I guess I still don’t understand why. I mean, you two have been married forever and all I have from my childhood are happy memories. What happened? When did it happen?”

  Maggie’s whimsical laugh made Dusty smile. “I couldn’t tell you exactly when son, a couple of years ago, maybe. There are aspects of the situation that I won’t go into with you. They are either entirely too personal or it’s something that your father should tell you, things that aren’t my place to say. But you’re right, we were so fucking happy for so long. We just…drifted apart. I’ll always love your father Dusty, in many ways he’s my best friend, we grew up together and we had you and raised you together. That’s my greatest accomplishment. You have made my life nothing less than wonderful Dusty, never doubt that, okay?” The uncertainty in his mom’s voice floored him.

  “Mom, you know I love you more than anything. I am the person I am today because of you and dad. I will admit that the last time I came home—looking back, you two weren’t as…I don’t know…hands on as you usually were. I just want you and Dad to be happy, that’s what anyone deserves, right?” Dusty had spent part of the time in the hospital in the wake of David’s attack on campus putting things into perspective. Being pissy or petty with his parents because they were divorcing seemed trivial in light of everything else going on around him.

  A soft sniffle on the other end of the phone almost brought Dusty to tears himself. “Damn, Ma, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “Oh no, you didn’t son. I’m very hormonal lately, but I think that’s to be expected. I’m just so happy that you have come to a place where you can not only understand why your father and I are divorcing, but accept it as well.” Maggie sighed.

  “So, Dad tells me that the gentleman in your life wants to tie the…” It hit Dusty what his mom had just said. “…wait, Mom…what does hormonal mean? Are you going through menopause?” Please God, oh please, please, please, let it be menopause, Dusty silently begged.

  “Well, actually…” there was a long pause, “…you’re going to be a big brother.”

  “What?! Mom!” Dusty shrieked right as his dad shuffled into the kitchen.

  “Mom finally told you she’s knocked up?” Dean yawned.

  “Aren’t you too old to get pregnant?” Dusty knew just as soon as the words crossed his lips that they were the wrong ones to say. He held the phone away from his ear, staring angrily at his dad as Dean full on snort-laughed while Maggie proceeded to enlighten Dusty on just how many colorful words were in her vocabulary, loudly.

  “Damn, I can hear her in the other room.” Adam strolled into the kitchen, moving right up behind Dean and leaning into him, kissing him on the cheek.

  “Dad! Goddamn, you two are seriously trying to fucking kill me, aren’t you?” Dusty yelled, shoving the phone into his dad’s hand when he turned to face him. “I can’t even deal with the three of you right now.” He stomped into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

  By the time Dusty finished his shower and got dressed, David was up and out in the kitchen having breakfast with Dean and Adam. The three of them fell quiet when Dusty walked into the kitchen. “What?” He asked sarcastically, rolling his eyes at the three men that were all looking his way.

  David climbed off the bar stool and ambled over to Dusty, kissing him on the cheek. While staying pissed off at the world had initially been his plan for the day, Dusty couldn’t resist David’s angelic charm. He smiled down at his boyfriend, stealing a quick kiss before nipping him on the nose. He’d been through so much, and yet, here he stood. Happy just to simply be with Dusty.

  “Love you babe,” He told David. They turned to see Adam and Dean leaning on the bar, his dad grinning like the Cheshire cat.

  “So, shall we go shopping for one of those adorable matching T-shirt sets? You know, the one
s that read ‘best big brother’ and ‘best little brother’?” Dean said flippantly.

  Dusty literally growled at his dad before taking David by the hand and attempting to drag his laughing boyfriend from the room.

  “Was it something I said?” Dean snorted.

  Dusty rolled his eyes at his dad, a witty comeback on the tip of his tongue, but before he could say anything his phone rang. Not even checking the caller ID, Dusty answered blindly. “Yo.”

  “Dusty, hey, it’s Henry. Sorry to bother you but there’s a woman down here, says she’s David’s mother and she is fit to be tied that I won’t just let her waltz right into an elevator and ride up there.” There was a pause, a rustling sound and then Henry was back, whispering this time. “Seems the Wicked Witch of the West left her broom at home.”

  Dusty was entirely too freaked out to appreciate the joke. “Motherfucker,” He muttered, glancing at David, thankful to see the back of his head. His dad took notice though, the smug grin from before melting away. Dean stood to his full height and walked around to lean against the counter right in front of Dusty.

  “Can you hang on a sec, Henry?” Dusty asked, unable to keep his voice from shaking.

  “Sure, just ring me back and let me know if I should send her up or take out the trash.” Henry chuckled before the call disconnected.

  “What’s wrong?” David and his dad asked at the same time.

  He reached for David, unsure if the need to touch him was for David’s benefit, or his own. “D, your mom is downstairs in the lobby.” Dusty expected a full-on meltdown. It surprised him that David didn’t seem shocked by this news at all. “I was wondering how she knew where to find you. You called her, didn’t you?”

  David’s shoulders slumped and his eyes dropped. “Yeah, a while back. She didn’t answer, but I left her a message.” David sniffled. When Dusty softly gripped his chin, lifting David’s head, there were fresh tears ready to spill from his eyes.

  Dusty grabbed him, jerking David close and holding him tightly. “D, baby, why are you crying?”

  “You’re not mad?” David’s words were muffled with his face buried in Dusty’s chest.

  Before Dusty could respond his dad moved closer, reaching out to rub David’s back gently. “David, son, why would we be upset with you for reaching out to your mother? I think perhaps we would like to know why, if you want to tell us.” Dean’s tone was firm but reassuring, leaving no room for argument or denial. Dusty had a love/hate relationship with that tone—it was a toss-up whether or not that voice meant teenage Dusty was being chastised or coddled, depending on the situation.

  David pulled away from Dusty, sniffling and wiping his face with the sleeve of his shirt. “I missed her,” he muttered.

  Before Dusty could make a move, Dean had David wrapped up in his arms. Adam swiftly moved over and wrapped them both up in his even bigger arms. Dusty was about to protest the manhandling of his man, whom he couldn’t even see sandwiched in between the two lumberjacks, when Dean reached over and grabbed him by the arm, dragging him into what was now a group hug. When Dean pulled away, he looked down at both of them sternly.

  “Here’s what’s going to happen. You…” he pointed at Dusty, “…are going to call Henry back and tell him to send her right on up. And you…” he pointed at David, “…are going to be just fine no matter what happens here today. That woman has no power over you anymore, David. You are part of this family now and we Anderson men protect what’s ours. Are we clear?” Dean waited for them to acquiesce before reaching for Dusty’s phone and shoving it into his hand.

  In a matter of minutes that felt like hours, Diane Thompson was knocking on the door. Dusty stayed in the kitchen with David, out of sight of the living room. It was Dean opening the door and once again, Dusty recognized the gentile southern gentleman’s tone to his father’s voice. “Hello, you must be Diane, please, come in.” It was the, Well bless your heart, kind of greeting that translated to, You’re a special kind of stupid, in the south.

  “Why, thank you so very much. I thought that brute of a doorman was never going to let me up here to see my Davie.” The brittle, condescending tone made Dusty’s skin crawl. Before he could ask David if he was okay his lover grabbed his hand, pulling Dusty behind him as he walked into the living room.

  “Hello, Mother,” was all he said.

  Diane Thompson smiled, taking a couple of steps toward David. As soon as Dusty wrapped his arms protectively around David, she blanched, the smile morphing into something between a frown and a snarl.

  “David Thompson, you extricate yourself from that young man this instance.” The air in the room was stifling by now, and Diane seemed to finally notice that she was the only hateful bigot in a room full of men. Her eyes darted warily from Dean to Adam before zeroing back in on Dusty and David. She cleared her throat a couple of times and when she spoke again, her tone was softer, nicer, but still dripping with disgust in Dusty’s opinion.

  “Davie…” She said just that one word and something extraordinary happened.

  “No! You don’t get to call me that ever again. God, I’m so stupid. I called you because I missed you. Isn’t that ironic?” David snorted, pulling away from Dusty and glaring at his mother. “You do realize that he almost killed me, right? You see this…” David angrily pointed at his left eye, the eye that never moved, the eye that was no longer anything more than a blue ornament for his face. “…I can no longer see out of my left eye, Mother!” Dusty stood back and let David go off on his tirade until it got to the point he thought his lover’s head might pop off. He was breathless, panting and his fists were clenched at his sides.

  “That’s enough.” Dusty grabbed David and jerked his body behind him, jabbing a finger at Diane. “You can get the fuck out of my apartment, and don’t ever think about coming back. David is mine now—” Dean interrupted him, “—Ours.” Dusty turned to his father and nodded once in agreement before facing She-Bitch again. “I love your son and I wish you could be a part of our lives, but obviously that’s not in the cards. So it’s best that you walk away and don’t try to contact him again, we clear?” Dean snorted, nodding and grinning at Dusty.

  “I can see it was a waste of my time coming here today.” Diane Thompson’s pretentious tone made Dusty’s skin crawl. “I thought when you reached out that you were ready to leave this life of sin, to come home and repent and walk in the light of Christ our Lord. I see now I was mistaken.” She was ballsy, Dusty had to give her that—she actually glared up at his dad from her tiny five-foot frame, nothing but disgust in her eyes. Rolling her shoulders and smoothing out her jacket with small, effeminate hands, Diane Thompson turned and walked toward the door.

  “Let me get that for you.” Dean jaunted over to the door comically, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Twisting the handle, he swung it wide and right and as She-Bitch stepped one foot into the hall, he pushed her the rest of the way out with the door, calling out, “Bah-bye now. Come back when you can’t stay so long.” Slamming the door and locking it, he turned to face them. “Good lord David, you are far more normal than you have any right to be. Were you adopted?”

  Dusty dragged David into their room so he could have the time alone to convince himself that his partner was really okay. “It’s done, D. You never have to see her again. No more goodbyes.”

  David sighed, his expression solemn. “Actually, there is one more person I have to see.”

  Chapter 20 | Saying Goodbye

  The last thing Dusty wanted to do with his Sunday afternoon was visit the grave of the man that had done his damned best to kill the man he loved. But there was nothing that Dusty would not do for David. So when he’d asked Dusty if they could go to his brother’s grave, Dusty roared on the inside, but on the outside, he remained calm and told his lover, “Of course D, if that is what you need to do, I’ll be there to support you.”

  His dad had offered to come with them as well, pulling Dusty aside when David went to brush his te
eth, asking him if he was certain he’d be able to drive afterward. Dean Anderson might not be Dusty’s favorite person at the moment, with him spending all his spare time with the doctor. He was still his father, though. It was in that strained moment that Dusty came to the realization that life was too fucking short. He was about to drive his boyfriend to a cemetery to say goodbye to the brother that had tried to kill him. Was his mom’s baby news or his father dating the doctor really that fucking dramatic? Not really when he thought about it. So he let it go.

  “Keep in mind son; nothing undermines the way of life quite like the taking of it.” His dad told him before they left. That sentiment alone put everything in a different perspective for Dusty.

  Now standing in front of the simple granite headstone that read, Dale Thompson, beloved son, 1986-2015, Dusty wanted to puke. No mention whatsoever about being a brother. That was probably for the best because he wasn’t a brother at all. His tombstone should read, Worthless, murdering bastard and lying sack of shit.