"Telemarketer." Please, touch me.
"More dancing?" Drake put the beer down, arms spreading.
"God, yes." He moved into Drake's arms, knowing full well it was a mistake.
Drake's arms draped around his shoulders, their bodies moving and rubbing again and it was only seconds before one of Drake's hands drifted down along his chest to his belly, and finally to grab him again through his jeans.
Slayde swallowed hard, hips rolling as he fought to get closer to that hand. Drake moaned, squeezed him, rubbed him.
"Oh, fuck. So good, man. So fucking hot."
"Your turn, come on." Drake's other hand drifted down to his ass.
His lips opened and he came, hard enough that it hurt his belly. Drake massaged his prick through it, making it last.
"I. Damn. Wow."
"Mmm. Dancing good." Drake's eyes were half closed as he started them swaying to the beat.
"Uh-huh." Messy, too.
"Beer good, too. Want?"
"No. No, I'm good." One of them needed to be sober.
"Okay." Drake's head dropped to his shoulder, the slow rocking continuing.
He hummed, hand on Drake's head, petting. "You're a fine man, Drake."
"Fine…"
"Mmmhmm." Someone needed to get into bed. He stared walking Drake into the house, keeping the steady petting and humming going, all the way to the stairs.
"Dancing." Drake chuckled, hand back on his ass.
"You know it." Dancing. God, maybe Drake wouldn't even remember all this.
He wasn't sure how he was going to get them up the stairs, but Drake took care of it, grabbing his hand and leading him right up. He dared to steal a kiss at the top of the stairs, hard and short.
Clearly half-passed out, Drake gave him a lazy grin and tugged him in, but missed his mouth, noisily kissing his ear instead. That stopped him. Rubbing up on Drake when the man was loose and tipsy was one thing, drunk into stupidity was something totally different and he wasn't about to take advantage.
"Come on, stud. Let's get you in bed and cleaned up." Possibly with some B vitamins and water, too.
"Stud." Drake grinned as he repeated the word. "That's me."
"You know it." He helped Drake undress, using the man's briefs to clean up the heavy, flaccid cock. He needed to clean up, too, but first he helped Drake get into bed. Jesus, the man really was a stud: amazing pecs, abs, thighs. And that cock was stunning, even soft.
He covered Drake up, the man was already snoring. "Sleep well, stud."
It was too bad he had to hope that Drake didn't remember any of this in the morning. There would be hell to pay otherwise. He hadn't started it, though. That had been all Drake. Not that there would be any chance of that being something Drake remembered. That was always the first thing straight guys forgot. Always.
Drake's snores followed him out the door and down to the bathroom to get himself cleaned up.
It was what it was; he couldn't take it back. It had been good, too. He smiled at himself on his way back down the stairs to clean up the food and start laundry. Humping a straight, beefy cop in the backyard. Lord have mercy.
Chapter Six
Oh fuck, his head hurt. He'd only had beer, too -- when had he become such a fucking lightweight? He'd been feeling no pain last night, though. None at all. He'd even danced and… Fuck. Fuck a dippity doo da duck. He'd fucking humped Slayde until he'd come and then, being the fucking gentleman he was, he'd gotten the man off right back.
Shit.
He wondered what the odds were that he could just stay and hide out up here under the covers.
There was a bottle of water on his bedside table, a bottle of Advil and B-vitamins. Slayde thought of fucking everything. What kind of asshole did that make him? Taking advantage of the man when they'd both been drinking?
The man was… Fuck. This was insane. He'd had that long, pretty cock right in his hand. Shitty as he felt, his prick still began to harden, just at the thought.
He looked over and his bedroom door was locked, so he reached down. Slayde had been pure sex, shifting and sliding against him in the dark. Fuck, he could still feel it. He closed his eyes and rubbed, feeling that sexy body like Slayde was right here with him.
Slayde had moaned for him, had rocked against his cock like the man was begging for it -- for him. He worked his hand up and down, pretending it was Slayde's. Fuck, but he bet Slayde could give a good hand job. Hell, he could imagine those lips, wrapped around him, sucking him, taking him to the root.
Groaning, he started thrusting, pushing his hips up to slide his prick into Slayde's imaginary mouth. Man had a mouth made to suck cock, those pretty eyes looking up at him through long lashes. He could remember that voice, begging him please. Asking for his touch.
"Oh, fuck." Another groan and he came, heat pushing up out of his prick. He wanted more. More of that.
He wiped his hand off on his sheets and sat up. Grabbing the Advil and vitamins, he swallowed them down and drank most of the water. Better. Whether the pills, the water or the orgasm, he wasn't sure, but he felt better.
He tugged on some clothes and headed downstairs -- seeing Slayde wasn't going to get any easier the longer he put it off.
The kids were in their swimming suits, running through the sprinkler in the back yard while Slayde watched, eyes hidden by sunglasses.
Jesus. He didn't know what to say to the man. Excuse me for taking advantage of you? Please don't tell anyone? Blow me?
"There's banana bread on the counter. The public pool closed for repairs, so we're having sprinkler time."
"Shit, what time is it?" He'd missed the pool?
"Almost three. You were sleeping hard."
"Fuck. I'm sorry." And what exactly was he apologizing for?
Slayde chuckled, waved one hand. "The kids were fine. No worries."
He went and sat at the table. The same table they'd been sitting at the night before. Shit. What kind of explanation did he give Slayde?
Slayde didn't say a word, didn't look at him or ignore him. Which made him feel even worse. Shit.
"More sunscreen, guys!" It was like last night hadn't even happened. "You want some sunscreen, Drake?"
"I, uh. I'm okay."
"Okay." Slayde lotioned up the kids, then held out his slick fingers. "You sure?"
No, he wasn't fucking sure at all. The temptation to say go for it and have those hands on him was huge. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
Slayde's smile softened. "It's okay, man."
His eyes narrowed. What did that mean? "I." He cleared his throat, looked over at the kids who were back in the water. "I'm sorry," he bit out. He'd been an ass. A drunken, stupid ass, taking advantage of the booze and a drunk Slayde.
"Don't be. No harm was done."
He blinked. That wasn't what he'd expected.
"Would it be easier if I was a bitch?" Slayde looked over the top of his glasses. "We have to spend a lot of time together, to be uncomfortable."
"No. I just…" He lowered his voice, meeting Slayde's gaze. "I fucking took advantage of you when you'd been drinking."
"I had a quarter of a beer."
"You weren't pacing me?" He'd thought they'd both done a good job decimating the six pack.
"Someone had to be sober for the kids."
Jesus, the man was just…a fucking robot. Then why the fuck hadn't Slayde put an end to… "You want me."
"I have eyes."
"But I didn't. How did you. What?" How the fuck had Slayde known he was gay?
"We need to talk later. Not now, man. Now we have little ears and eyes."
He closed his mouth, nodded tightly. Yeah, Slayde was probably right.
Drake sat back, arms crossed, ostensibly watching the kids. His eyes kept cutting back to Slayde, though. This would have been a whole lot easier if his damn prick wasn't so fucking interested in the man.
Christian came over to him, soaking wet and all smiles. "You sleeped and sleeped
!"
"I did! I guess I needed it -- you and your sisters ran me ragged." He gave Christian a wink.
"We whispered so you could."
"That was really nice of you guys." He shot a look at Slayde; the man had clearly wanted to avoid him.
Slayde chuckled. "And who won the quiet game, Christian?"
"Maggie. She's good at that game."
Drake laughed. He could see that. He glanced over at her. There was just something about those serious eyes that made him want to make her like him. He was definitely winning her over, though.
"How long did you stay quiet?" he asked.
The little girl zipped her lips, winked. Oh, ho. Someone was still playing.
"That's really impressive. Do you get a prize for winning, honey?"
"She gets to pick tonight's movie."
"Can I talk you into my favorite?" he asked her.
She shrugged, then came to him, little swimsuit soaking wet. He grinned and took her hand. They'd only seen that Pirate Misfit movie thing once and it had made Slayde laugh. He thought he'd like to hear that sound again. "You liked that pirate movie, yeah?"
She nodded her head and Christian hooted, running back to the water. Little Jenny was sitting on a towel near the sprinkler, fingers playing in the spray.
"I think it would make a great movie tonight. We could play a popcorn game. It would be fun."
"A popcorn game?" she whispered, so soft.
"Uh-huh." He moved closer and whispered back to her. "Every time someone goes 'arrr' you have to eat some popcorn."
"Oh…" She grinned at him, nodded, and then hugged him, hard, soaking his T-shirt.
He looked over and Slayde had his sunglasses on, a goofy smile on the man's face. He rolled his eyes, but he couldn't stop his own big dumb smile at the hug. He was definitely winning her over. He really was.
Then she was gone, running over to tear through the sprinklers again. He chuckled, this strange, almost heartburn feeling in his chest. Why hadn't he made a bigger effort to come see the kids before? He knew why -- he had a life, a place, and Mindy… Well, it was hard to see her, after Jerry had been killed. Maybe he'd needed a few more years under his belt to appreciate the kids like he did now.
He shrugged. It didn't matter. He was here now and he was a free agent, so when Mindy came back, he could find a job closer to her and the kids.
"You not getting wet along with them?" he asked Slayde, cursing himself when that immediately brought images of the man half-naked and wet to mind.
"I'm a little tall for the sprinkler."
He chuckled. "You're hot, though. I mean…" Shit. He hadn't meant that at all how it had come out.
Slayde snorted, then started laughing, hard enough that the lounge chair shook under him.
"Sh-" He cut himself off before he could finish the cuss and be stuck doing another bunch of push-ups. "You know what I meant." Hell, he thought maybe he had meant it both ways.
"I do." Slayde chuckled anyway. Little shit. "You should get some banana bread before naptime. I'll need help with baths."
"What happens during naptime today?"
"Hmm? Hopefully everyone sleeps and I can actually watch something on the DVR that isn't kid-appropriate."
"Can I have my banana bread while we watch whatever you come up with on the DVR?"
Sitting with Slayde and watching TV probably wasn't a good idea, but he imagined he was going to do it anyway.
"Absolutely."
Jenny started screaming, the sound crazy, and Slayde was up before he even registered the sound, running toward her where she'd crawled. Drake followed without even really thinking, the noise like a knife going right through him.
"Drake! Get me the hose!" Slayde was brushing, almost slapping at the baby, who was howling.
He had no fucking clue what Slayde was up to, but he shifted left immediately to get the hose. He tore it off the sprinkler, the sound of Jenny screaming more chilling the longer it went on.
"Spray her down. Get the fire ants off her." Those baby legs were already swelling, the bites all over one foot. "Now, Drake. Then get the other two out of here."
"Shit." He sprayed Jenny down, the little red ants flying off her. That sound she was making made him want to kill something.
When he thought the job was done, he handed over the hose, and then grabbed up Maggie, took Christian's hand and hightailed it back inside. "Come on, guys. We're gonna start that movie early."
Slayde brought the baby in, pushing some kind of medicine into her mouth. "We're going to bathe."
"She doesn't need emergency?"
"If the Benadryl and the apple cider vinegar bath doesn't help, yeah. You cool with them? It's going to be a long evening."
"Yeah, yeah, we're good." He could even handle supper now. "We're gonna watch Misfit Pirates and play the popcorn game." He gave Slayde a tight smile, his eyes lingering on sweet baby Jenny. Christ, he was supposed to be good in an emergency; this was different, though. He wasn't trained in helping his baby niece recover from fucking fire ants.
He told himself to buck the fuck up. His job was to keep Maggie and Christian from freaking out or getting in Slayde's way. "Okay, who's gonna help me make the popcorn?"
The kids looked at him, quiet, and they took his hands. "Is the baby going to be okay?" Maggie looked at him as Christian spoke.
He crouched down to their level and nodded. "Slayde knows exactly what to do to help. She'll be just fine." And he was going to call in an exterminator and make sure those fucking ants couldn't hurt any of them again. He wished they were big enough to shoot.
Maggie pushed into his arms, holding him tight, and he realized the kids were still in their swimsuits.
He gave her a big hug, holding on tight. "I'm gonna go get some clothes for you guys to change into. How about your pajamas?"
Christopher looked at him, wide-eyed. "During the day? Is it a slubber party?"
Maggie gasped. "A slubber party? Wow."
He pressed his lips tightly together. A slubber party. Oh God. How adorable. He hugged them both tight. "Yes. Yes, it is."
"Oh. Oh, okay. Maggie. Come on! We have to get jammies and blankets and pillows and our bears for the living room!" They ran off, hand-in-hand.
Damn. That was the most adorable thing ever. Ever. He went to find the popcorn and grapes or something to munch on.
He was grabbing the colander when it hit him. He was putting together healthy snacks for his niece and nephew and they were going to have a "slubber" party and it wasn't fazing him in the least. Shit, he was going to need more beer if he started making his own bread and tomato sauces.
Still. It felt good. If he could just figure out why he couldn't stop thinking about Slayde and how the man looked and felt and smelled, he'd be golden.
***
Slayde called Drake from the hospital where he was rocking Jenny, her poor baby body swollen and hot. He'd taken her in yesterday and they'd had a long, sleepless night.
"Hey, how did it go last night?" he asked when Drake picked up.
"Good. We had a slubber party and slept in the living room under a hand-made tent. How's the baby?"
"Pissed off. They think I'll be able to bring her home today. She's got to lose the fever first. Did you call those exterminators Mindy uses and scream yet?" He'd shown Drake where to find the number before he'd left for the hospital last night when the Benadryl and bath didn't work.
"Yeah, I waited 'til the kids were set up in the other room and cursed a blue streak at them."
"Good." He sighed softly, hungry and exhausted and in desperate need of a coffee.
"Christian and Maggie are fine and I haven't burned down the house, I swear."
"Excellent. Jenny is sleeping in ten minute bursts and I haven't had a bathroom break in six hours."
"Damn. You want me to come and spell you?"
"No. No, if you're okay with the older two. I may need you to come pick us up when they release her." He wasn't sure he co
uld drive them home.
"I guess we could take the bus there…you've got the van, right?"
"Right. No. I'll be okay. I'll make it." He wanted to just cry.
"You sure. Maybe someone can look after the kids and I can take a cab?"
"I… I could call Jeannie. She's a good friend, maybe she could." He knew she would if he called -- they all had each other's backs when their significant other, or in his case, boss, was away.
"Sounds good. When are they springing Jenny?"
"I'm praying for this afternoon."
"Yeah? That'd be good. We miss her." Drake's voice was gruff.
"Uh-huh. I bet. She's not a happy baby."
"You don't sound like a happy man, either."
"I'm just tired." Hungry. Undercaffeinated. Thoroughly fucking pissed off that he hadn't seen the fucking ant nest.
"Tell you what, you can sleep in tomorrow."
"Yeah. Yeah, I hope so." His hands and arms were covered in bites and blisters, and he burned inside, knowing how bad Jenny hurt.
Drake grunted. "Isn't there anything I can do?"
"Keep Christian and Maggie settled. I'll call Jeannie in a second and see if she can let you get the car, bring me a cup of coffee."
"Okay. It'll all be okay."
"It will. Did you talk to Mindy last night?" He was so glad he hadn't had to see her.
"I don't want to talk about it."
"Oh, God." Oh, God. He'd fucked up, so bad.
"Yeah, she chewed me a new one and threatened to kick me out so things could go back to just perfect you." Drake sighed. "I'm sorry. I've screwed everything up."
"You? You've been a huge help. Tell her to scream at me. Remind her that Christian's first sunburn and when Maggie picked up a wasp's nest, I wasn't even there. And neither were you."
Drake chuckled. "So she's screwed up, too, huh?"
"They're kids, not dolls. They get hurt."
Drake chuckled. "I think I needed to hear that. She got to me."
"She's on the other side of the world and her baby's in the hospital. She freaked out." He sort of got it.
"Yeah. Yeah. Look, I'm going to let you go so you can call Jilly, uh, Jeannie? Yeah, that's it. Call me back when you know what's going on."
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