by Sean Michael
“In the fall, sometimes. Not like home.” Jean snuggled in, shivering and cuddling. “But my man, he likes himself the snow.”
“That’s because there’s usually heat inside, and I don’t get soaked by the snow.” Ralph held Jean close, rubbing his skin with those big hands.
Jean nodded and cuddled in, humming softly.
Ralph gave the ballplayer a look. “You doing okay, Brett?”
“Gonna be fine.”
Jean could see tension in the man’s jaw. Tomorrow he was going to be sore.
“You sure?” Ralph asked. “We could get you to the hospital to get checked out if anything doesn’t feel right. Storm or no, I don’t want this aggravating your injury.”
“No. No more hospitals, huh?”
Ralph aimed a so-serious look at Brett. “I’m going to take your word that nothing out of the ordinary is hurting. Hating hospitals or not, if you’ve worsened your shoulder or injured something else, you need to be up front about that.”
“It’s going to be sore, but not any worse than normal.”
Ralph and Brett looked at each other a moment, and then Ralph grunted and settled back, tugging Jean closer. “I don’t suppose you have weenies we can roast over the fire, babe?”
“Uh-huh. And marshmallows. There’s tea for the kettle too.”
Benj perked up at that. “Oh, marshmallows? Really? Oh, Brett—that would be fun, wouldn’t it?”
Brett chuckled. “Campout food. I can handle that.”
“I hate camping,” Benj admitted. “But I do like the food.”
“I’ll go grab it.” In a minute. Jean was perfectly, wonderfully comfortable.
Ralph held tight to him. “I think we can all wait and work on getting warm first.”
“Yeah?” Jean cuddled harder. “Okay, chou.”
“This is nice.” Benj looked blissful, happy. Sweet little thing.
Brett’s eyes were closed. He was dozing, wrapped around his lover.
Jean nodded. “Quiet, eh? Maybe later we can play a game?”
A rumbling sound that might have been a yes came from Ralph before he answered with words. “Yeah, that sounds good. Who knows, maybe this whole thing was a blessing in disguise.”
“Hmm? How so?” He kissed Ralph’s jaw, warm and happy as the storm raged.
“Disaster happened. Brett fell into the water and couldn’t get out. There’s a terrible storm, and we lost power. And yet here we all sit, happy, warm, good.”
Jean chuckled, shook his head. Ralph was a nutburger.
“It’s true, babe. The worst happened, and we’re all okay. It proves to Brett that bad things can happen without terrible results, you know?”
Jean shifted, pulled the blankets tighter around them, settling in for a nap. “Yeah. It’s good, chou. Easy.”
Benj smiled at them and then closed his eyes, the little one joining his lover in sleep.
Ralph chuckled. “They’re a cute couple.”
“They are. It’s gonna be a decent winter, I think.”
“Yeah. It’ll be good. Just the four of us. And we don’t have to be discreet—no one’s going to be pissed we’re a couple. I can kiss you when I want.”
His chou liked that. “Mmm. You can. You don’t think your growly bear will hate that?”
“He’s got his own man to kiss, right?”
“Mmmhmm…. C’est bon, kissing.” Jean lifted his face for one.
“Very bon.” Ralph’s mouth came down gently on his, the kiss opening his mouth.
He pulled the covers over them, surrounding them.
Ralph tasted warm, like sweet water. Ralph gave a happy rumble and deepened the kiss, hands beginning to wander. They couldn’t do this. Not here, but it was so warm and nice….
“Jean. Babe. Oh man, kissing is one thing, but this is… we shouldn’t.” Still, Ralph kept kissing him, didn’t he?
“Mmmhmm. Shh…,” he murmured softly, humming into Ralph’s lips.
Those wandering hands found his ass and shifted him so they were rubbing nicely together.
This was a terrible idea. Awful. Jean chuckled, gliding his fingers along Ralph’s side.
“What’re you laughing at, Cajun?”
“Us.” He licked Ralph’s lips.
“You mean the fact we’re like sex-starved jackrabbits? Is that what you’re laughing at?” Ralph’s own laughter was trying to bubble up.
“You got it, chou. You an’ me, we’s bunnies.”
Ralph’s laughter rang out.
Brett woke up with a snort. “You two… be good.”
“Oh, I’m always good,” Ralph replied. “Just ask my man here.”
Jean started laughing, chuckling deep in his chest.
“Psst. Babe. You’re supposed to be talking me up here, not laughing.”
That just made him laugh harder while he leaned against the best thing that had ever happened to him.
Ralph held him close, and his big hands patted him. “You just keep laughing, babe.”
“Always, chou.” He was happy.
“Yeah, I know.” Ralph kissed his nose.
He beamed, wrapping his legs around Ralph and holding on. The next kiss found his lips, Ralph prying his mouth open with that hot tongue. He heard the sweet one give a soft sigh.
“You two stop that now.” Brett growled, but it didn’t sound mean.
“Hush,” whispered Benj. “They’re lovely.”
“They’re horn dogs, and you’re a… a… lookie-loo.”
Benj started to giggle. Even his Ralph was silently laughing, chest moving against Jean. Soon they were all cackling, the laughter loud enough to drown out the storm.
“Lookie-loo.” Benj hit Brett’s good arm. “You nut.”
“Well, you are.” Brett stretched out and sighed.
“Only if they’re cute. Which they are.” Benj was back to giggling.
“Dork.”
That made Jean snort a little, look over Ralph’s shoulder. “Stick in the mud.”
“Oh, he’s not!” Benj came immediately to his man’s defense.
“Pshaw. He ain’t friendly at all….” Jean lifted his head from the blanket, winked at Brett.
Benj looked like he was going to say something else, but Ralph chuckled and Benj’s face relaxed.
“We oughta get some clothes on, huh?” He really didn’t want to move.
“Anyone have a glaring need to get dressed?” Ralph asked.
“The blankets are warm,” Benj pointed out.
“They are, and the fire is too.” He gasped as thunder shook the house.
Ralph tugged him closer. “That storm’s going from bad to worse. You better stay where you are, babe.”
He shivered and pressed in. “You think?”
“I surely do.”
Benj nodded. “Yeah, Ralph’s right. We’re all good right where we are. Aren’t we, Brett?”
The sweet thing sure did love his man.
“Yeah, babe. I’m cool.”
Look at that. They were so cute together.
Ralph patted him absently, almost snoring.
Jean found the perfect place for his cheek.
Ralph patted him again, the softest “love you” brushing by his ear.
“Love.” Jean’s eyes fluttered closed, the warmth and the dark and Ralph making the world a better place.
Chapter Twelve
RALPH FINISHED his breakfast and glanced from Brett’s smoothie to the clock over the mantel. Eight forty. That gave the man twenty minutes to haul his ass down here, finish his drink, and get out to the workout room for his treatments.
Benj’s place was set, but the food was still in the kitchen, keeping warm. Of course, Benj could take as long as he wanted to eat. Brett had a schedule to keep.
He tried not to growl—Brett wasn’t late yet. Hell, the man could probably come down at five to, down the drink quickly, and run to get to therapy in time. Of course, that would likely make Brett throw up, which would defea
t the purpose of him having breakfast to begin with.
He had another sip of Jean’s excellent coffee and debated asking for another beignet to distract himself.
“What’s eatin’ you, chou?” Jean’s hand trailed down his back.
“Oh, I’m just worried over nothing, I’m sure.” He gave Jean a smile. They hadn’t had time to establish a good routine yet, though, and it itched at him. He glanced at the clock again. Seventeen minutes to go.
“He ain’t like some, Ralph. He don’t follow the rules good.”
“He’s still mad at the world, babe.” Brett needed to get past it, though. He needed to accept their help and not think it made him any less.
“They always are.” Jean shrugged and grabbed a bite of pineapple.
“Don’t talk about me when I’m not here, huh?” Brett looked at the smoothie. “What’s in it?”
“Pineapple, strawberry, mostly.”
Jean opened his mouth to continue, but that was obviously enough for Brett, who chugged it.
Ralph couldn’t resist teasing. “Good thing he didn’t let you get to the alligator and eel, babe.”
“Like he’d care. He don’t taste the food.”
“Hey, he’s eating—well, drinking—it, right? Gift horses and all that.”
Benj appeared in the doorway, yawning and blinking. “Who’s gifting horses?”
“The Cajun.” Brett burped. “Mornin’, baby.”
Benj walked up and hugged Brett tight from behind. “Hey, love. Something smells good. Aside from you.”
“I bet they made you real food.” Brett winked. “I have to go be a torture victim while you enjoy your life of leisure.”
“Hey, man. Jean’s making what you’ll eat. You want ‘real’ food, I imagine he’d be more than happy to make it.” Ralph shook his head. Brett wasn’t going to get away with dissing his man.
Brett arched an eyebrow, looked at him. “Are you always this bitchy in the morning?”
“I’m not bitchy if everyone follows the routine.”
Brett’s smile disappeared, finger pointing to the clock. “I have seven minutes to be outside. Seven. My ass is here. I drank the fucking smoothie.” The glass hit the counter and cracked all around the bottom. “See you at five, baby. Have a good day.”
Ralph sighed and rubbed his face. “Still touchy, I see.”
Benj fluttered. “He’s trying. Really.”
Jean cleaned up the glass without a word.
Benj kept hovering, offering apologies and trying to help.
“Cher, relax. Let the big dogs snarl and snap. They mean nothin’.”
“This is his last hope. Please”—Benj turned to Ralph—“you have to help him.”
And he was trying to, but the stubborn son of a bitch was not making it easy. “Patience is a virtue, yeah?” And they all needed to pray for some.
He got up and patted Benj’s shoulder before leaving him to Jean’s care.
Brett was at the weights, doing reps, counting under his breath.
“Hey, let’s have a conversation when you’ve finished those reps, man.”
“Sure.” Brett glowered at him, muscles bunching and jerking and pulling.
Ralph sighed and went to sit at his desk, pretending to be busy as he tried to figure out how to reach past Brett’s anger and fear.
When he finally put the weight down, Brett came to stand in front of Ralph’s desk. “Talk.”
“Can you sit?”
“Sure.” Brett lowered himself into a chair.
“I don’t want to fight with you, Brett. Truly. Me and Jean and the others, we’re here to help you. We all have the same goal—get that shoulder healed and you back in the majors.”
“What have I done this morning to fight? I was on time. I ate. You were a prick from the second I came down.”
Ralph shook his head. “I wasn’t, Brett. But it seems everything I say sets you off.”
“I wasn’t set off until you accused me of not working.”
“When did I do that?”
“You said I won’t follow the routine. I have.”
“We’ve had so many interruptions, there haven’t been three days in a row for you to follow it. Not your fault, but I worry that we haven’t got one going yet. That doesn’t mean I think you’re not working.”
“I am working. I’ve done everything you said.”
“What about your attitude?” Ralph asked softly. He didn’t want to piss the man off, but Brett still clung to all his anger.
“What about it? I’m trying, man. I’m trying to do all the shit you ask me to.”
“You’re not doing yourself any favors by hanging on to your resentment, man. I know it sounds cheesy, but a positive attitude helps.”
“Am I doing my job?” That rage was right under the surface.
“I know you’re trying, man. I just don’t think it’s enough.” He needed to talk to Michael. The headshrinker might have some ideas for how he could help Brett let go of that anger.
“Fine.” Brett’s jaw went tight as a stone. “Call management, and I’ll pack. Thanks for your time.”
He turned on one heel and headed for the door.
“Goddammit, Brett, get back here,” Ralph snapped. “I didn’t say we were giving up on you—I’m trying to tell you where we are. I’m trying to help you here, dammit!”
“You said you didn’t think it was enough.” Brett turned on him, fury written on the tanned face. “Quit fucking playing games with me, asshole. I’ve done every motherfucking thing you’ve asked.”
“I’m not playing games, Brett. And you have done everything we’ve asked you to do—physically. You need to lose the anger, though, man. I mean, you’re so angry there are days I’m surprised your head doesn’t pop right off.”
“Fuck you.” The air between them was charged, violent. Vicious.
“You need someone to unload on, Brett? Is that it?” He stood and puffed up, taking a step forward. “Then you take it out on me, because I can take anything you can dish out.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you, you psycho bastard? Why are you fucking pushing?”
“Because if you don’t deal with how pissed off you are, it will kill you. Come on, Brett—you can’t heal while you’re all twisted up inside.”
“Stop with the New Age, crystal, and light-healing horseshit!”
“It’s part of the package, man. And it isn’t horseshit. With the anger you’re carrying, your whole body is tight, you overwork when you do your exercises, and you don’t sleep right.”
Brett might not believe it, but his anger was affecting everything.
“I’m doing what you ask!” Brett flexed, muscles rippling.
“So if I ask you to stop being so angry, will you do that?” Of course, if it was that easy, they’d all be out of a job.
“I’m not angry!”
Right.
Ralph managed not to snort or say anything sarcastic. Barely.
“No? What do you call it, then?”
“I’m fucking tired, man.”
Oh, it was more than that, and Brett knew it. “You always shout when you’re tired?”
“Yes. Quit pushing, or I’m going to beat your ass.”
And maybe that’s what the man needed. “But not because you’re angry.”
“What?”
“You keep saying you’re not angry, and then you tell me you’re going to beat my ass—ass-beating is usually accompanied by anger.”
“I’m going for a walk.”
“I think that’s a good idea. And Brett. Please. Think about what I’ve said.”
Brett flipped him off and stormed out the door.
Ralph growled and went over to the punching bag, socked it hard.
Goddammit.
He needed to talk to Michael, get some tips on getting through to Brett. Because he and Brett were just going in circles, and that wasn’t helping the man at all.
Jean appeared, two glasses of juice in
hand. “I sent the wee one after him. What’s up?”
“He’s angry. He won’t admit it, and he needs to.”
Ralph took one of the juices and drank it down, the taste sharp in his mouth. “Thanks, babe. This is great.”
“Maybe he don’t understand you, chou. Little Benj swears he’s working real hard.”
“Oh, he’s working hard. Physically, he’s being a star—hell, I’d say he’s even overdoing. But he’s just so angry, and it’s affecting everything, and I can’t get him to admit it.”
“Isn’t he supposed to be angry?”
“Of course he should be angry. But he won’t admit it, and if he won’t admit it, how can he work to overcome it?”
Jean looked at him. “Well, chou. Maybe he don’t know he’s not wrong to feel it.”
He looked back at Jean, a slow smile pulling at his lips. “Babe, you’re a genius.”
His lover leaned in, kissed him. “Yup.”
That made him laugh. He kissed Jean back. “You’re modest too.”
“Don’t forget cute. I’m incredibly cute.”
“Oh, that goes without saying.” He rubbed their noses together. “You’re very, very cute.”
“Love you, chou. You go get your patient. Do your thing. Then… maybe we have a long lunch?”
“Mmm… a long lunch. I like the sound of that.”
Jean’s tongue flicked out. “Long and slow enough to make me scream, chou.”
He groaned as his cock began to fill, eager to respond to Jean’s touch, Jean’s words.
“Lunch.” Jean backed off, prick outlined in his baggy slacks.
“You’re evil.” His own prick throbbed eagerly.
“I’m yours.”
“You know it, babe.”
Ralph watched Jean go and then gave his cock a moment or two to get back to business. Once he was decent, he headed out. He could see Brett and Benj about a quarter of the way around the lake, and he jogged lightly to catch up to them.
Brett’s body language was clear—the man was pissed and hurt.
He called out as he got near, so they wouldn’t be surprised by his sudden appearance.
Benj crumbled a little bit, looking back with a wave.
“Hey, Benj, how’re you doing? Can you give us a few minutes, please?”
“Are you going to tell him to leave? Because if you are, I’m staying with Brett.”