Mannies Incorporated

by Michael, Sean

  "Stakeout." He nodded toward the food, the setup.

  Slayde looked confused. "Huh?'

  "It looks like we're setting up for a stakeout." He dropped the ice and the glasses on the little table and the munchies on the end of the bed.

  "Oh. Oh, wow. Yeah?" Slayde settled, cross legged. "How long were you undercover?"

  "A while. Some of it was harrowing, but on the whole there was a lot of sitting around and watching while munching on whatever the local 7-11 had going."

  "Did you do…murders?"

  He shook his head slowly, opened his eyes wide. "I swear, man, I never murdered anyone."

  "No. No, I mean, when you work. Did you investigate murders?" Slayde leaned back on the headboard. "I've never really know a cop before."

  Drake chuckled. "I knew what you meant, baby." He climbed onto the bed and sat next to Slayde. "Yeah, I investigated murders. Drug deals, robberies."

  "Did you ever get hurt?"

  "Sure." He shrugged out of his shirt, turned and showed Slayde the scar from the bullet he'd taken to the right shoulder. The knife scar on his left thigh.

  "Oh, man." Slayde's lips brushed the bullet hole. "Oh, honey."

  He shrugged, not in the least bit used to care from anyone. "It's the job."

  "When did you decide to be a cop?" Slayde kept kissing.

  "I…" He hesitated. He'd never told anyone the real reason, though he figured Minds knew why. Slayde's fingers traced the scar on his thigh. "When I was eight. My father. Let's just say he put my mother in the hospital." He cleared his throat. "That's when I decided I was going to be a cop."

  "Oh." Slayde nodded. "I know about him. I'm sorry, honey. That just sucked."

  "It did." He didn't really have anything else to say about it.

  "You and Mindy are heroes. It's amazing."

  "She is." His sister kicked fucking ass.

  "So are you. Do you miss it?"

  "The job?" He nodded slowly. "Not all of it, but yeah. I was a good cop. I helped people."

  Slayde took a deep breath, swallowed. "Are you going to go back when Mindy gets home?"

  Drake shrugged. He honestly didn't know. "We'll have to see. I can be a cop anywhere, really. I guess it depends on what Mindy does when she gets back." He wanted to see her and the kids more. Him. Who knew?

  "I'll be finding a new job."

  "What?"

  "She's retiring, honey." Slayde rested against him, sighed. "There's no way she can afford me."

  "Oh." damn. That was… What were the kids going to do without Slayde?

  "Yeah. It's going to be… I don't know."

  "It's not for a while yet, man. There's time to figure everything out." Slayde was family to those kids. And if he was the one saying it, then it had to be true.

  "I know. I do." Slayde's cheek was on his chest, fingers drawing shapes on his belly. "So, what does a cop on stakeout eat?"

  He grinned. "You'll be horrified."

  "I don't doubt that." Slayde pinched him, playful. "Still, I'm curious."

  He batted at the man's hands. "Pretty much what's here, with some fast food burgers and loads of greasy fries thrown in for good measure. Certainly nothing homemade."

  "Fast food is death in a bag."

  Drake had to laugh at that. "How come I knew you'd say that?"

  "Because it's true."

  "You show me where a guy on stakeout can get a home-cooked meal and I'll eat it."

  "If you were my partner, you'd have one." The words fell between them.

  He froze, then took a breath. A partner. He never imagined he'd have one, not outside of work, never believed that was for him. "Guys who bring bagged lunches get the shit teased out of them." His voice was husky as he said it.

  "And the guys that get gourmet dinners for them and the cops they work with?"

  He chuckled. "No one shows up at a stakeout with gourmet dinners, baby." Slayde clearly couldn't do anything by half. It was part of the man's appeal.

  "They're obviously not trying hard enough."

  He laughed. "You think you can come with a gourmet version of chips or Twinkies?" He grabbed the bag of Twinkies, opening one up and stuffing the entire thing in his mouth.

  "Are Twinkies even real food?"

  He managed to swallow the thing down. "They're a food group, man."

  "Ew." Slayde took the Cheetos, though, and opened the bag. "These are sinful. I adore them."

  He laughed. "Ha! They're in the same food group as the Twinkies."

  "No way." Slayde shook his head. "Cheetos aren't immortal space food."

  "Immortal space food?" He laughed, grabbing another Twinkie and shoving it into his mouth, making loud happy food noises.

  Slayde was laughing hard, making awful gagging sounds.

  He rolled his eyes and noted when he'd swallowed again, "I've seen you swallow my prick whole, a Twinkie would so not make you gag."

  "Your cock is not made with plastic and weird goo."

  He just stared at the man. "That's gross."

  "Your cock or the Twinkies?"

  "Neither!" He'd lost track of the conversation somehow.

  Slayde started laughing, body shaking with it. He punched him lightly in the arm.

  "Turd." Slayde pinched his nipple

  "Hey!" He rolled over onto Slayde.

  "Uhn. Too. Many. Twinkies."

  Oh. Oh, little shit!

  "I'll show you too many Twinkies." He ground his hips down into Slayde's.

  "Heavy man. Twinkie fiend."

  "Nothing wrong with being a Twinkie fiend. And I work out!" He rubbed them together again. "And you're a cock hound."

  "Work out? When?" He noticed that Slayde didn't argue.

  Well, maybe it had been awhile since he'd worked out, aside from the curse word pushups. But before they'd started fucking he used to work out every evening. "I work out a lot."

  "Shit, lover. Running after Frick, Frack, and Fracklet is a workout."

  "Those're my nieces and nephew you're calling Frick, Frack, and Fracklet."

  "Lucky bastard."

  That shut him up and he looked down at Slayde, and then slowly brought their mouths together again, kissing the man.

  Slayde kissed him back, then eased away, rubbing their noses together. "Come on, you big stud, play cards with me?"

  "Long as we can take care of this," he rubbed their hard-ons together, "after I beat your ass."

  "After you give me all my winning blow jobs, it's a deal."

  "Oh, no, I'm the one who's going to be getting the blow jobs." He gave Slayde one more hard kiss and sat up, grabbing the cards.

  Slayde set the board up and they were off, playing away.

  Chapter Nine

  Slayde was weirdly nervous, having Joey and Trevor over for dinner. His best friends were a little wild, totally out of the closet, and goofballs, but the kids and him all needed haircuts and it had been almost five months since they'd seen each other.

  He checked the pear and gorgonzola salad, the meat and cheese plate, then started the hot dogs for the kids.

  Drake looked at the salad. "So, are these guys really frou-frou?"

  "They're hair dressers. Less frou-frou than…fierce."

  "So, what's with the frou-frou food?" Drake grabbed a piece of salami, rolled it in to a cigar, and munched on it.

  "Hey! That's for company!" He swacked Drake's hand.

  "You gonna make me eat hot dogs with the kids?" Drake snagged a chunk of cheese.

  "Drake! If you don't stop, you'll be eating mac and cheese with ketchup!" Turd. He wanted the boys to be impressed.

  Drake stuck out his tongue. "You love them more than you love me."

  "Not a chance, but I want it to be nice."

  "You've cleaned the place within an inch of its life, baby, it's nice."

  The praise made him smile, made his cheeks heat. "Thanks."

  "Unca Drake? Can I color?" Man, Maggie went to Drake with everything now; she thought he hung the m
oon.

  Still, Slayde was the one who answered her. "No, Maggie. Let's play with the Aquadoodle; there's no mess."

  "Uncle Slayde's a little obsessed about keeping the place neat today," Drake stage-whispered. "Better do what he says."

  "Butthead." God, he was stupid for the big son of a bitch.

  "Maggie, did that sound like a cuss word to you?"

  "Yes, Unca Drake."

  Drake gave him a shit-eating grin. "Drop and give us ten."

  Oh, he didn't think so. He leaned over, put his lips near Drake's ear. "I'm going to beat your ass, you fucking bastard." He licked quickly before he backed off.

  Drake gave him a hot look. "That's thirty, baby."

  "Unca Slayde's not a baby."

  Drake's cheeks heated.

  Slayde winked, grinned, and hit the floor, pumping out thirty pushups easily. Drake's mouth dropped open, then the man whistled, long and low. Oh, yeah. He was a stud.

  "Uh-oh. Someone said naughty words, honey!" Joey came in, arms full of presents and food and movies.

  Travis followed, chuckling, and Drake colored again, stepping closer to Maggie.

  "Hey, guys." Slayde stood, brushed off his hands. "Joey and Travis, this is Drake. Drake, Joey and Travis."

  Drake stepped forward and held out his hand. "Hey."

  "Hey, man." Travis took Drake's hand, shook it. "Nice to meet you, finally."

  "You too. So, you're the hair guy?"

  "I am. We are." Travis grinned, nodded. "You're Mindy's brother. Nice to finally meet you."

  Joey bounced over to Slayde, kissed him. "God, he's hot, honey." Oh, God, Drake was going to hear. The man already looked like he was gearing up to bolt.

  "Yeah, good to meet you." Drake nodded.

  "What on earth did you two bring?" Slayde asked.

  Christian came barreling in. "Unca Joey! Travis!"

  Travis grinned. "Hey, you!"

  Drake's eyebrows had climbed up as he watched, and he stepped aside as Christian and Jenny greeted Travis and Joey. Only Maggie was her usual reserved self.

  It was Joey who sat on the floor next to her, though. Plop. "Hey, Mags. I found that baby doll you told me about. Wanna see?"

  Maggie nodded and stepped closer. "Uh-huh."

  "She's so pretty. I picked out a dress that matched for you and her."

  Travis smiled. "Don't worry, Christian. I shopped for you."

  Jenny pouted. "Me, too."

  Travis nodded, pulled out a bag with an electronic toy that beeped and dinged. "Your own computer."

  Drake just watched, blinking madly. The man didn't say a thing, though.

  Christian got more Hot Wheels and before long the kids were playing hard.

  "You spoil them." Slayde softened the words with a kiss.

  "I know." Joey stood, hopped up to give him another hug. "How are you? God, honey, you're shaggy! You need a haircut. I brought my scissors."

  Drake ran his hand over his head. "We're all getting shaggy." Which was ridiculous, as the man's hair was clearly only just growing out of a buzzcut.

  "I have a razor. We can get you and Christian, too." Joey went over, hugged Drake hard. "So good to meet you!"

  The blinking came back. "Hi."

  "Guys, let him breathe." The boys could be…overwhelming. Wonderful, but overwhelming.

  "I'm good." Still, Drake shot him a grateful look.

  "So, I made salad, cold cuts. Something light and easy."

  "Frou-frou," muttered Drake.

  "Shut up." Slayde whacked Drake, playfully.

  "Fu--" Drake snapped his mouth shut on what was obviously about to be a curse. "It's the truth."

  Joey chuckled, pushed into Travis' arms. "God, they're cute."

  "They're kids, of course they're cute." Still, Drake looked proudly Christian and the girls.

  "They are." Slayde winked at Joey, mouthing, "Enough."

  Joey's eyebrows went up and Travis patted him. "Behave, baby."

  "But…"

  Travis grabbed Joey and kissed him, hard.

  Drake rolled his eyes. "Are we going to eat this frou-frou crap, or what?"

  "After I feed the kids and Joey cuts hair."

  "Are there snacks?" He was pretty sure Drake wasn't joking.

  "There are." Slayde pulled out some chips, some ranch dip.

  "Of course there are, you're Martha Steward."

  "Stewart." He stuck his tongue out at Drake.

  "Huh?" Poor Drake looked lost.

  Joey giggled. "Did you make the dip, honey? Yours is so good."

  "I did."

  "Didn't you know? We aren't allowed to buy anything ready made. It's like junk food prison here." Slayde could hear the tease in Drake's voice.

  "Junk food is bad for your skin."

  Joey nodded, eager as a puppy. "God, yes. Poison."

  "Oh, Lord, there's another one." Drake glanced over at Travis.

  Travis rolled his eyes. "Tell me about it. Does he make you watch Top Chef? Sheer Genius?"

  Drake shook his head. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

  Of course that was only because they'd not spent a lot of time doing anything but fucking in the evenings.

  "Oh, you are a lucky man." Travis grinned wide. "He makes me watch every episode."

  Joey looked at Slayde. "You're not watching Sheer Genius?"

  Slayde's cheeks heated. "iTunes."

  "What the fuck is Sheer Genius? I mean. Shit. Damn it!" Drake looked like he was going to explode.

  "Three swears, Unca Drake!"

  The kids whooped and Drake blushed. "Oh, God."

  The man dropped to the floor and started pumping out push-ups. Damn, that was hot.

  Joey blinked. "You're so lucky, Slayde."

  "Uh-huh."

  "Hey!" Travis actually looked offended.

  The kids all piled onto Drake for the last few, which might have been the only reason Drake seemed to have totally missed the by-play.

  Slayde turned to put on the hot dogs. "Christian, can Joey trim your hair, please?"

  "Do I get a lollipop if he does?"

  Joey opened his mouth, but then looked at Slayde questioningly

  "How about a Popsicle?" He managed to keep a straight face.

  Joey nodded happily. "Everyone who gets their hair cut gets a Popsicle. And you have your choice of me or Travis." Joey pointed to himself and stage-whispered, "Pick me!"

  Christian pulled his shirt off. "I'll get the chair!"

  Then the little boy ran to the backyard. At Drake's confused look, Slayde shrugged. "We can hose him down, after."

  Drake chuckled. "So this is a regular thing, huh?"

  "Whenever I come down, yeah. I think I'm the only person who's ever cut his hair, huh, honey?"

  Slayde pondered that. "I think so."

  "So you're both hairdressers?" Drake asked Travis, seeming to be more comfortable with him, despite the multi-colored hair.

  "Yeah. Though I usually let Joey do Slayde and the kids -- he gets a bigger kick out of it."

  "Travis is more of a three hundred dollar a pop consultant, huh? Joey still loves to do men." Slayde blinked at himself. "Men's hair."

  Drake made a noise, but then turned to Travis again. "Three hundred a dollar pop consultant? For cutting hair?"

  Travis pinked, and it made Slayde smile. The man put up with crazy shit, was insanely talented, and was a good guy. He deserved success. "It's a good job."

  "Yeah, clearly." Drake chuckled. "Nice work if you can get it."

  Joey headed out back and Slayde waved. "Drake, can you keep an eye on the girls please, love?"

  Drake made this strangled noise, face going dark red. It was Travis who answered. "We've got it covered, guys."

  Oh. Oops. Slayde ducked and ran, heading out to the inquisition.

  "He's perfect." Joey beamed, taking the towel Christian had found and covering the boy's shoulders.

  "Thank you." Christian smiled up at Joey.

  "Oh,
you're welcome, sweetie -- you're perfect, too." Joey chuckled and opened his kit, grabbing the spritzer and the scissors. "You called him 'love'." Joey murmured, beaming at him.

  "Yeah." His cheeks were burning.

  "You've got it so bad." Joey spritzed Christian's hair liberally making Christian squeal happily as the water got his skin, too.

  "I can't help it." Slayde sat, carefully choosing his words. "At first, it was crazy-making, but he's eager and honest and a genuine good guy."

  Joey started cutting Christian's hair. "How's his closet?"

  "Pretty big. Huge. I mean, there's the whole…police uniform thing. I don't think his sister's ever even seen it." Which was a shame because Mindy was cool, open-minded. She let him be the kids' legal guardian, for fuck's sake.

  Joey gave him a sympathetic look. "I'd tell you to back off for your own sake, but I can see that it's far too late for that."

  "Yeah. I mean, she'll come back, he'll go back to work. I'll have to find work. It's doomed." And that sucked, so hard. Drake was…not perfect. but, God, the man made him happy.

  "You'll come stay with us, honey. I'm not having you nursing a broken heart all alone."

  "Why does Unca Slayde have a broken heart?" Christian asked.

  "I don't, Christian. He's just saying that if I do, I can stay with him." Because it was coming. He was going to lose his lover, his family, the kids he'd been taking care of for their whole lives. Slayde teared up, looked away.

  "Oh. Okay." Thank God Christian was still at the age where the simple answers worked for him.

  Drake and Travis came out with the girls. "These two want to know how long it's going to take before it's their turn?" Drake gave him a funny look.

  Joey looked at him, utterly panicked, and Slayde grinned, wishing he had his sunglasses on. "Maybe Uncle Travis can trim your bangs?"

  They settled in to getting the girls ready and everyone having their hair cut. Joey gave him a look, though, that made it clear he didn't think the conversation was over yet.

  After all three of the kids were trimmed and hosed off, Slayde got them settled with hot dogs at the picnic table. "Drake, you want Joey to trim you up?"

  "It's getting long, isn't it?" It wasn't, not really, but for Drake, yeah, long enough. "Sure."

  Joey beamed. "Cool. Lose the shirt and sit, big guy."

  Drake gave him a look, and Slayde just shrugged. So Drake did as he was told, pulling off his T-shirt and exposing that amazing up body, those abs. Slayde couldn't help but look, eyes dragging over the fine belly. He didn't know if Drake saw him looking or not, but the man flexed, those abs rippling.