by Rhys Ford
“No, not that. You guys would drink liquid goat shit if someone put it in a cup and called it coffee,” Miki snorted. “I mean the whole… ‘one of your boys’ thing. I don’t know what to do with that. Hell, I was just telling Damie that.”
“Ah, Miki boy.” Donal’s eyes—so much like Kane’s—softened perceptibly. “Yer as much mine as any of those that I’ve had with m’bride. I thought ye knew that.”
He kind of did. He just had a hard time believing it.
“Dude, I’m five kinds of fucked up. If I were Kane’s dad, I sure as shit wouldn’t want him to hook up with me.”
“Do ye really think that of yerself, Miki?”
“I couldn’t even get Valentine’s Day right.” He jerked his head toward the column of wood. “I had to talk his dad into coming to help me fix this—I bought him a dead tree!”
“First off, it’s a very nice dead tree. Perfect. And secondly, ye didn’t have to talk me into coming. I’d come anytime ye called.” Donal set his cup down, then took Miki’s from his hands. The second mug joined its brother on a roadie crate, and Miki found himself folded into Donal’s thick arms as he was pulled into a fierce hug. “Miki boy, there’s nothing wrong with ye. Yer not someone I ever imagined with Kane because I couldn’t even begin to imagine someone like ye. Yer perfect for m’boy.”
“Okay, anyone ever shoot you in the head? Because, dude, you sound like you got popped one,” Miki mumbled into Donal’s shoulder. “Maybe one too many football games. Blow to the head. That kind of stuff.”
Everything else he said was lost in the bulk of the Irish man holding him.
It felt good to be hugged. Especially by Donal. The feel of the embrace was so different from any he’d gotten from Damie or Kane. Beyond comforting, there was a protectiveness he couldn’t describe. Like if he held on for just a minute longer, he’d be all better once he let go. He put his arms up and hugged back, letting himself feel the strength of the man who’d taken him under his wing.
“Someday, Miki boy, yer going to know how much yer loved. Ye’ll not question it anymore, and I can’t wait for that day.” Donal tightened his arms, then rubbed at Miki’s back. “What did ye think when Kane had to go?”
“You don’t wanna know. We were um… yeah.” Miki shook his head, and Donal laughed, an echoing deep rumble. Detaching himself from Donal’s hug was hard, but the older man gave him a firm quick squeeze before he let go. “Mostly it was, Fuck? Really? Now you guys turn on the Bat Signal? It was pretty damned good there.”
“Not what ye were thinking about—spare me that, Miki boy. Some things a man shouldn’t know about his gay sons.” Donal ruffled Miki’s hair and handed Miki a coffee cup. “Were ye mad they called him in?”
“Hell no, he’s a cop. Shit’s gonna happen. People need him. Why would I be mad?”
“Because some people would be plenty pissed off he left. They’d think they weren’t coming first in his life,” Donal pointed out. “But ye know he loves ye, and him leaving—to do the job—wasn’t because he wanted to leave ye.”
“Dude, if someone’s dead, isn’t there like only a few hours where shit’s gotta be done? Before it all goes cold?”
“Aye. There is.”
“Then I’d be some pretty small-minded fuck to cry about not getting dinner or something.” Miki shrugged. “Kane’s going to come back when he’s done. Not like I haven’t eaten cold leftovers before in my life. Shit, that could have been the name of our band—Stone Cold Leftovers.”
“See? That’s why yer perfect for him.” Donal saluted him with his mug. “It’s hard loving a cop. We bring a lot of shite home. Ye’ve got to deal with it as much as he does.”
“Like he doesn’t have to deal with my shit,” he snorted. “Nah, I’m good with it. Told him that before he put on his cape and picked Sanchez up. I just couldn’t deal with all that… crap over there.” Miki waved at the koa trunk. “Damie and Sionn got each other these huge presents, like cars and expensive watches. All I got Kane was a chunk of forest leftovers. Well, and some shit Damie talked me into at the jewelry store.”
“Trust me, son,” Donal murmured softly. “Kane’s going to love that first pressie more than anything else. Except for, perhaps, his Miki boy. Now, I’ve got to get on home. The Grand Dragon should be back with the girls. They do their own thing on Valentine’s Day before Brigid and I have dinner. Something about chocolates and secrets. I don’t ask. Women sometimes like their secrets.”
“Yeah, some guys do too.” Miki made a face. “Too complicated. Not for me.”
Miki walked Donal to the door, and the older man paused at the threshold to envelop Miki in one final hug. This time Donal kissed the top of his head before letting Miki go.
“Ye do me a favor now, Miki boy.” Donal looked down at him and smiled.
“Sure. ’Zup?”
“Ye can call me Da or Dad if ye want. Donal’s all right, but ye’re Kane’s. Well, and he’s yers. The family’s yers too. Even when ye don’t want them. Shite, sometimes especially when ye don’t want them.” If Miki didn’t know better, he’d have thought Donal was laughing at him a little bit. Or laughing with him. The man’s eyes flicked around Miki’s face before their gazes met. “It’s summat close enough to Dude.”
“Yeah, I can do that.” He’d never called anyone anything even close to Dad. Vega and Shing were always sir to their faces. It was something they’d beaten into him nearly from the beginning.
“Miki,” Donal said softly. “Just see if it works for ye. If not, no worries, all right?”
“No, it’s… good,” Miki choked out, stumbling over the swell of emotion in his throat. “Dad. Totally works. Scary but working.”
“Good. Now I’m going to go find out how much the girls’ going-out party cost me.” The man chuckled and patted Miki’s face. “Don’t ye be worrying about yer present. Either one of them. Kane would love anything ye gave him, Miki boy. Anything at all.”
“Yeah, you’re just saying that because you want me to call you Dad,” he teased back.
“That, and I’m hoping to be getting something made from that koa. If the boy’s open to suggestions, tell him I could use some more pens. His ma keeps taking m’other ones. I’m taking to hiding them like I hide m’whisky.” Donal gave Miki one last firm pat on the shoulder. “And don’t ye be adding any more bows to that. God help ye, it looked like a blind gypsy dropped off a tribute to Herne in your living room.”
“Yeah, sure,” Miki grumbled back.
He waited until Donal cleared the automatic gate, then closed the front door. The first thing he noticed was the lack of bone-gnawing noise coming from near the couch. That’s when he spotted Dude rolling around in the discarded bows, the blond terrier gleefully sporting the present toppers and wagging his stubby tail as quickly as he could.
“Really? You’re as much of a fucking idiot as I am,” Miki said as he walked over to debow the dog. Dude took off like a shot, scampering up the stairs and into the upper reaches of the warehouse.
Sighing, Miki began to pick up the rest of the decorations Donal stripped from Kane’s present. He heard Dude bark at him from upstairs, the terrier’s blond head poking out from between the iron slats of the staircase. Miki ignored him for a moment, then shouted up at him as he wrapped a string of lights around its cardboard holder.
“I’m not chasing you, dick.” He gave the dog a mock growl. “You go around looking like a cupcake. See if I care! But don’t go crying to Kane when that duct tape pulls your fur out. I’ll just start calling you Chernobyl. See how you like that!”
I don’t know when you’re going to find this. It could be tomorrow. Shit, it could be years from now. When doesn’t matter because how I feel about you isn’t going to change.
I love you, Mick.
Actually, that’s a lie. It is going to change.
I’m going to love you more. Every damned second of every blessed day, I’m going to love you more.
So yeah, it reall
y doesn’t matter when you find this note because you and I?
We’re going to last forever.
—Love letter from Kane stuffed into Miki’s acoustic guitar
THE ROOM was dark. That was normal. With blackout curtains over the arched windows, the former dining area turned bedroom sank comfortably into its shadows. Miki wasn’t entirely certain what woke him up. It could have been anything: the sound of Kane’s keys hitting the lopsided monkeypod bowl they used to toss the contents of their pockets into when they came in from the garage or even the jangle of Dude’s tags as he jumped off the end of the bed to go greet his second-favorite human.
Either way, Miki struggled to shake off the rest of his sleep, weighted down by exhaustion and a bit of worry. He’d admit to the worry, especially since he’d left the wood lit up like a showgirl in the front room and closed the doors on its sparkle.
“Oh, damn, the fucking tree.” He buried his face in the pillows, wishing he could sink into the mattress as well. “I forgot to turn the damned thing off.”
“I happen to love that fucking tree. I read the tag. It’s mine, so don’t you be talking shit about my tree.” Kane’s voice startled him, and he jerked up, surprised. Kane was shedding his clothes, his belt buckle clanging softly as he let his pants drop and stepped out of them. “Lie back down, Mick. I’ve got you.”
His cop spread his hands over Miki’s shoulders and rubbed, easing him back down. The bed gave a bit when Kane got on it, and Miki felt it dip on either side of his hips. Kane’s bare thighs warmed his chilled skin, and the soft circular motions down Miki’s spine did more than heat things up in his cock. The sheets rubbed a bit, and his ass clenched uncontrollably when goose bumps danced over his naked, cold body.
“I’ve got to be telling you.” Kane kissed his nape, a feather touch of lips between shanks of Miki’s long hair. “I can’t believe you got me koa for Valentine’s Day.”
“It’s shitty, I know….”
“It’s fantastic.” Kane slid his hands under Miki’s hips and gently turned him over. His gaze roamed over Miki’s naked body, and his wicked hands—delightful and hot—kneaded Miki’s thighs. “You’re pretty damned fantastic too. Thank you, Mick. It’s beautiful. Beautiful and incredible. And big enough that your dog can’t drag it off to the garage.”
Kane bent over, pushing the bed’s pillow top down farther. Gripping Miki’s hips, he slid his tongue into Miki’s mouth, forcing his way in. Miki sighed and opened up for his lover, giving everything he had to the tangle of lips and tongue Kane started. Their noses touched, and Kane drew back—just for a second—to tickle the end of Miki’s with the tip of his tongue.
His laugh was swallowed behind Kane’s returning mouth, and Miki wound his arms around his lover’s neck, drawing Kane down on top of him. The man fell, a heavy, sensual weight on Miki’s length, and he tried to move, but Miki refused to let him go.
“Stay here,” Miki muttered. “I like you on me.”
“I’d rather be in you,” Kane grumbled playfully. “God, I’m sorry I didn’t get to roll you around on the rose petals.”
“I didn’t want to crush them.” He sniffed. “They’re in a box. Well, the ones from the bed. I didn’t pick up the ones on the floor. You can roll me around on those.”
“Deal.” His lover laughed softly. “Did you eat?”
“Did you have to bring your mother to bed with you too?” He cocked his head, losing himself in the man’s deep-blue eyes. “Bad enough I had to ask your dad to help me decorate that damned thing. You go and trot Brigid through?”
“My dad helped you?”
“Yeah, should have kept him around. He is the hottest Morgan. You’re like second gen. Doesn’t cloned DNA degrade as it goes farther away from the source?”
“Oh, you’re going to be playing that game, then?” Kane’s fingers moved from sensual to torturous, and he dove down into the ridges of Miki’s rib cage.
“Fuck. Stop.” He wiggled to get away. The feeling of his skin being rubbed the wrong way sent chills up Miki’s spine, and his bladder decided to remind him of the large Gatorade bottle he’d drained before going to bed. “Seriously, I’ve got to pee.”
“Before you go off to see a man about a horse, I’ve got something for you.” Kane scooted over to the edge of the bed and reached for one of Miki’s guitar cases, resting up against the wall. He dragged it over, then put it between them. A flick of a switch, and Kane turned on one of the lamps. Miki blinked, his eyes spangling from at the sudden brightness. “Here, open this.”
“Hey, this isn’t one of mine.”
“It is now.” Kane nodded. “Open it up, love.”
Miki studied the black hard case as he flipped open its catches. Sucking on a gasp at the curve-bodied guitar nested in its bed of red velvet, Miki coughed to clear his throat. Its gleaming cherry-stained wood face was fitted with an elaborate filigree steel bowl, the swirls chased in black and gold. Touching the strings, Miki listened to the instrument’s soft, melodic hum. “Fuck me, it’s a resonator. Dude, you got me a guitar.”
“Yeah, I’d like to say I made it, but I’d be lying. There’s a lot I can do, but guitars aren’t one of them, love. Not like this one.”
Miki cupped Kane’s face and kissed him soundly. “Dude, this is like… fucking awesome. I’ve always wanted one.”
“Yeah, I had help. Damie pointed me to the right places.” Kane shrugged, and Miki caught a fringe of blush creeping over the man’s stubbled cheeks. “So if the sound sucks, I can blame him.”
“It sounds awesome. Thank you.” Miki’s heart pounded, overfull at the gift’s sentiment. Then it hitched in time with the laugh building up inside of him. Grinning widely at Kane, he said, “Heh. We gave each other wood.”
“Sometimes you are like a five-year-old. Everything’s a sex or fart joke with you. Go pee. And for your information, I love the wood you gave me.” Kane let him go, smacking him on the ass as he slid off the bed. From the look on his lover’s face, maybe the tree carcass wasn’t such a bad idea after all. “Come back, and I’ll be happy to give you more.”
“Hey!” It was more of an outraged yelp than anything else, although the slight sting Kane left on his ass aroused him as much as his kiss had. “Don’t do that. You’re gonna get me all hard, and I won’t be able to pee.”
“Hurry back.” Kane slapped him again, lighter this time, but the spot already tingled, and the second smack only reminded his dick of Kane’s mouth and hands.
“Fucker,” Miki muttered, rubbing at the spot as he walked to the door.
“Planning on it,” his cop called out to him. “When you come back, leave Dude out there. And you might want to unplug the tree so he doesn’t get a perm when he pisses on it.”
“Dude’s never pissed in the house. Ever.” Miki made a face at Kane before hooking his fingers into the cord to jerk it out of the socket. Of course, he thought, Dude’d never had a tree in the house before either.
Frowning, he moved the crate sides and leaned them against the wood column, blocking it from any chance of Dude deciding to use it as a urinal. The dog lay on his back, cradled in the couch cushions, and snored loudly. When Miki passed by, Dude’s legs twitched, and he gave a light, inquisitive woof, chasing something in his dreams.
Leaning over the back of the couch, he whispered at the mutt when he came back from the bathroom. “Do not whizz on that. He’ll fucking kill you. And I might even help him this time.”
He closed the door behind him, shutting the dog and most of the light out of the bedroom. Miki’d left the candles where they were when he’d come to bed, and while he’d been gone, Kane had lit most of them, and the soft glimmer of flames covered the room in a warm amber, the flickering lights draping soft shadows over the unmade bed. The guitar was back in its place, a dark shape wedged behind a table covered in Miki’s notebooks and music notes.
Kane turned to face him, standing in slight profile in front of a bank of tall candles.
The sight of his lover, nude and ready for him, leeched the moisture from Miki’s mouth. And he couldn’t think of anything he wanted more than to drop to his knees and take Kane’s cock between his lips until Kane filled him.
Except perhaps to have the man’s fat cock spearing him into the mattress.
Kane’s Irish blood had to have a drop of Frost Giant in it, because the man was huge, a solid block of muscle and sinew. A soft cover of hair ran up his thighs and calves, leaving an expanse of bare skin over his hips and ass. Another thatch of coarser black hair cradled his penis, thinning out to a delicate trail stretching to his navel. The time he spent working out with his brother Connor showed in his sturdy, muscular frame, although Miki was partially convinced they lifted weights mostly so they could gossip about their parents and plot how they could manipulate their younger siblings to do what they wanted them to do.
“Get on the bed, mo shearc.” Kane’s low voice held dark promises, and Miki shivered. “Let me see how much you want me, Mick.”
The lube was already out and on the bed. Giving his lover a wicked grin, Miki grabbed the bottle and popped the lid, catching the dribble bubbling out of the bottle’s opening. Closing the lube with a snap, he kneeled down on the bed, keeping his back mostly to Kane. His knee argued a bit at the position, but Miki ignored it. Valentine’s Day came once a year, and he was going to make the most of it.
Even if he still needed CliffsNotes to get the damned holiday right.
Arching his back, Miki reached around and slid his lubed fingers down the crack of his ass. He fell forward a bit but caught himself with his other hand, steadying himself on the bed with his palm and spreading his knees. Tilting his ass up, his cheeks parted slightly, ensuring Kane a good view.
He knew he’d gotten to Kane once he slid his fingers into his opening because he could hear the man growl from across the room.
His fingers weren’t going to be enough. Miki got two in and twisted them apart, feeling the burn cresting up from his hole and into the base of his spine. His cock was more than interested in the sensations ticking Miki’s nerves, thickening up and smearing damp pearls on Miki’s belly.