Brody Comes Home

By Tim Mead

Chapter 13

Eventually Adrian ended their cuddle on the couch by reminding Brody that they both needed to be up early the next morning.  When they were in bed he seemed to have forgotten his promise to "fuck Brody's brains out" that night.  Instead, after less foreplay than was usual for the two, he asked, "How do you want me, my hunky Marine?"

"Ass up!"  Brody grabbed a condom and the lube from the nightstand and went to work, knowing very well that he was being symbolically handed his manhood.  Deciding to forgo rimming, he used lots of lube and three fingers to loosen the portal he'd been allowed only infrequently to enter.  

On his knees, his dick balls deep in Adrian, he looked down at the handsome head resting on the sheet and felt a sense of power.  Their coupling that evening wasn't the most gentle they'd ever had, even on the rare previous occasions when Brody had been permitted to top.

Brody awoke the next morning just before 6:00.  He propped himself up on one elbow and looked down at his sleeping partner, who looked younger than his almost thirty years and surprisingly vulnerable.  He was undoubtedly beautiful, even though one of his greatest assets, his incredibly blue eyes, couldn't be seen at that moment.  Brody burrowed under the covers, found Adrian's morning erection, and took it into his mouth.

"What time is it?" a sleepy voice asked.

"Time for a quick fuck before we grab our socks," Brody said.

"Sweetie, I'm a little tender this morning.  Let's just have a 69, okay?"

When they were finished, Brody said, "We've never showered together.  Wanna do that?"

Adrian grinned and licked his lips.  "Sounds delicious, but not this morning.  We might be distracted, and you need to get to class."

"My first class isn't until 9:00.  We have plenty of time."

"Well, I need to get to the office.  Lots of paperwork to catch up on."

As they were eating breakfast, Brody said, "Did you mean what you said last night?  Are you really willing to let me suggest something for us to do together?"

"Of course.  You have something in mind?"

"Yup.  Since they almost upset Miami, the Cougars haven't lost a game.  They're playing the last game of the season at home this Saturday.  Wanna come with me?"

"Is that the game where those big muscle-bound guys in tight pants hump each other on the field?"  He grinned and raised an eyebrow.

"Aw, come on.  You don't mean you've never been to a football game!"

"Yeah, baby.  I was just putting you on.  It's been several years, though.  But I promise you won't have to explain to me what's going on.  At least not often."

"Okay, I'll get tickets.  I'll call later about picking you up."

"You won't need to pick me up.  We can see the stadium from here.  We'll walk."


As Brody made the short drive from Adrian's condo to the student parking lot nearest his first class, he thought, `He seems to have gotten the message.  I was pretty sure Cromer was wrong about him.'

*          *          *

Saturday was going to be a big day.  It was cloudy and still dark when Brody got up.  When he went out for his run, he discovered it had turned cold.  He flipped on the Weather Channel when he got back and found out that light snow was forecast for that afternoon.  He showered, shaved, and dressed, pulling on jeans and the company shirt.  

It was a slow morning, so he was glad when Justin arrived with his friend about 10:30.

"Hey, Jus, I was hoping you'd drop in this morning."

"Hey, Sarge.  I told you we'd be here.  I want you to meet Gary Keller.  Gary, this is Brody Cox."

Gary was a couple of inches shorter than Brody, which put him at about six feet.  He was wearing baggy jeans and a baggy pullover that came to his hips.  His shoulders weren't broad, and he appeared to be skinny.  His hands and feet were large.  `Hasn't begun to fill out yet,' Brody thought.  The boy had blue eyes and straight red hair which he parted in the middle.  His boyish round face was covered with freckles.  If he were smaller, he'd be called cute.  As it was, he seemed more gangly and unformed than anything else.  Brody wondered how Justin could be attracted to him.

"Glad to know you, Gary," Brody said, shaking hands with the boy.  His hands were cold, as neither boy had been wearing gloves.  The handshake was disappointingly limp.  Brody wasn't one of those men who made a handshake a test of strength, but he disliked a weak one.  "Justin's told me a little about you.  There's coffee in the pot back there, guys, if you'd like to warm up."

"Brode, I think I want a Coke.  How about you, Gary?"

"No, the coffee sounds good.  It's cold out there."  He put his hands on his biceps and hugged himself.  Brody thought the gesture was more for effect that to actually warm himself.

Justin poured coffee into a mug, reached into the refrigerator, took out a quart container of milk, and poured some into the coffee.  He set the mug on the table in front of his friend.  Then he went back to the fridge and got himself a Coke.

"So, Gary, Justin tells me you're in the band.  Football's over at HHS, isn't it?  Do you play in any other groups?"

"Yeah, I am first chair in the symphonic winds and the school orchestra, so I get to play all year long."

"Are you involved in any other activities?"

"Geez, Brode, let the guy alone.  No need to grill him."

"Sorry.  I was just trying to get to know him a little."

Gary put his hand on Justin's.  "It's cool.  I don't mind."  He looked at Brody.  "I'm in the National Honor Society, and I sing in the school chorus."

"Justin says you write poetry."

Gary blushed and looked at Justin.  "You told him about that?"

Justin turned his hand palm up and squeezed Gary's.  "Well, dufus, you do.  And it's pretty amazing stuff."

"Not really."

"Hey, Gary," Brody said, "I'm impressed.  I couldn't write anything like that.  We had to write a sonnet in senior English, and I had to get a girl friend to help me.  I couldn't get all those rhymes to work out."

Justin chuckled.  "Yeah, I hear we're gonna have to do that in Mrs. Simmons' class next semester."

"Actually," Gary said, "most of my stuff doesn't rhyme."

"Oh."  Brody couldn't think of anything else to say.

He was spared embarrassment, though, when Justin stepped in and began to explain to Gary all about procedures at the shop, showing him all of the flowers, both in the workroom and out front, identifying all the different varieties.  He explained how they handled orders from or to distant places.  Gary seemed interested, asking occasional questions.  But, Brody noticed, the kid never smiled.  He was cute in a boy next door sort of way, but he had a dreamy quality about him, as if his mind was on something far from Justin, Brody, and the florist shop and he forced himself to come back to what Justin was telling him as necessary.

Brody asked Justin about his folks.  Justin asked Brody about Bobby, Sam, and the kids.  Then, with his trademark grin, he asked how things were going with Adrian.  Before Brody could answer, Justin turned to Gary and said, "Brody's sleeping with this gorgeous older guy."

"How old is he?"

"Twenty nine."

"Oh!"  Gary looked as if he'd smelled something unpleasant.  

A few minutes later the boys left, saying they were going to grab something to eat and then take in a horror flick at the mall.

Brody closed the shop at noon and went back to his apartment.  A few light flakes of snow were beginning to fall.  He opened a can of soup for lunch.  While it was heating he took off the company shirt, put on a flannel shirt and pulled his warmest sweatshirt over that.  The soup hit the spot, warming him inside.  

He'd picked up a pair of lined leather gloves the last time he'd been in Wal-Mart, but he didn't have a winter-weight jacket.  That's why he'd put on layers of clothes.  He'd have to rely on his windbreaker.  He changed out of his sneakers into some work boots he'd also picked up at Wal-Mart.  And that would have to do.

It was snowing a bit harder by the time Brody pulled into the visitors' parking area at Adrian's building.  He pressed the appropriate button and was buzzed into the foyer.  Adrian had the door open by the time Brody reached the top floor, and when Brody entered, the two hugged.  Adrian gave him a warm kiss.  "Ohhh, I needed that.  It's been almost a week, sweetheart, and I've missed you."  

Brody was on the verge of suggesting they skip the game and go to bed, but he remembered that this was his party, that it was a sort of test to see if his friend really would be willing to do his kind of thing.

"Yeah, I've missed you, too, sexy.  Jus is right.  You are gorgeous!"

"Justin said that?"

"Yeah, he and his new friend came by the shop this morning, and he said that."

Adrian grinned.  "The child has good taste."


"I suppose I'm guilty as charged."

"Okay, you ready to go?  Dressed warm?"  He stepped back to look at Adrian, who was wearing a Colby State sweatshirt over an oxford shirt with a button-down collar.  Below he had on wide-wale corduroy jeans and ankle high shoes that were shiny leather, nothing like the boots Brody was wearing.

"Sure am.  Let me get my coat."  He took from the closet a hip-length leather coat with some sort of fur lining.  He pulled a pair of matching gloves from the pocket.  "Ready to roll!"

It snowed off and on all afternoon.  The game was a good one for the home crowd, since the Cougars were beating Edinboro State handily.  After the halftime show was over, Adrian said, "Brody, we're freezing our asses off here.  And the outcome of the game isn't in much doubt.  Are you sure you want to stay?"

"Let's go under the stands and get some coffee.  The lines won't be too long now that the second half is starting."

Adrian grumbled, but he went along.

When they were back in their seats sipping on huge containers of coffee, Brody turned to his friend, grinned, and said, "If you want to wimp out, dude, we can leave.  At least you came.  I wasn't sure you'd even do that."

"I came prepared to stick it out."  He looked at Brody with his cobalt eyes, which were squinting with the cold.  "And I will."  Then he grinned.  "Unless you'd like to come back to my place.  I've got to be at the restaurant tonight, but we've plenty of time to have a little fun first."

Brody, knowing what having fun meant, felt his dick begin to swell.  "Shit, man, how can I refuse an invitation like that?"

By the time they were back to Adrian's building, both men regretted they'd decided to walk.  The snow was coming down more heavily, the wind was fierce, and it looked as if northwestern Ohio was in for a real taste of winter, even though it was only November.

When they got inside the penthouse, Adrian flipped two switches.  Immediately the fire came on in the fireplace, and soft music seemed to surround them.  They took off their coats and hung them in the closet by the door.

"Sorry, man, I don't know whether it's the cold or the coffee, but I gotta whiz."

Adrian smirked.  "I'd offer to hold it for you, but I have to go, too.  Use the guest bathroom.  I'll use the one in the master."

Back in front of the fireplace, Adrian said, "We could have some of that cognac.  That's good for a cold day.  Or, I've just had a brainstorm.  How would you like some cocoa?"

"Damn, I haven't had cocoa since I was in middle school.  That really sounds good."

"Come on.  This will take a minute.  You can hand me things."

Brody followed him to the kitchen, which he'd gradually become familiar with.  Adrian took a saucepan from a rack over the island in the middle of the room.  "Milk.  Salt.  Cocoa powder.  Sugar.  Vanilla extract."  Brody located and set out the ingredients while Adrian, without seeming to measure anything, put them into the saucepan.  He stood in front of the cooktop, stirring the mixture.  Brody came up behind him, put his arms around his waist, and began gently humping his hardening cock against Adrian's butt.

"You animal!  Are you always randy?"

"Yup.  Pretty much."

"Well, I'm still frozen.  Let me get thawed out, and then we'll see what we can do about your problem."

When Adrian judged the cocoa to be ready, he handed the spoon to Brody.  "Keep stirring that."

"Aye, aye, sir!"

Chuckling, Adrian went to a cupboard and removed a dark brown bottle.  He poured some of the contents into each of two mugs.  

"Okay, Marine, put the spoon in the dishwasher."  While Brody was doing that he ladled cocoa into each mug.

"Come on, let's go have this by the fire."  They sat side by side on the sofa.

After a tentative sip of his drink, Brody said, "Mmm, that's not like the cocoa Mom used to make.  What did you put in this?"


"Never heard of it.  But it sure does great things for cocoa."

"I'll remember you like it."

They sipped the sweet, hot beverage, watching the fire, listening to the music.  Brody's eyes closed.  He was feeling warm, content, relaxed, sleepy -- until a hand grabbed his cock, causing it to harden within his jeans.

Without saying anything he turned, grabbed Adrian, and they began a kiss which seemed to go on for hours.  Then, panting, they began removing each other's clothes so that soon they were both naked in front of the fire.  After much nibbling, stroking, and licking, Brody found himself being rimmed.  And how Brody loved being rimmed.  He lay there cooing and wiggling his ass.  Finally, he couldn't stand it any more.

"Oh, god, man, fuck me.  I need you inside me!"

"Are you sure?"  Adrian chuckled.  "I don't want to be accused of power games here."

"Shut the fuck up.  And fuck me!"

"Aye, aye, sir!" Adrian said.  And fuck him he did, right there on the floor by the fire.

Later, after they'd showered, Brody was putting on the clothes he'd worn to the game.  Adrian was getting into a black suit.

"Brody, why don't you come to the restaurant with me and have supper?  Then you can either go on home or come back here.  I have to be there until about ten tonight, and I know you wouldn't want to hang around there all that time.  But you could come back here and watch TV or something until I get home.  I'd love a rematch of this afternoon's event."  Obviously he wasn't talking about the football game.

"No, man, thanks.  I'm not dressed for dinner at Adrian's.  And it's not getting any better out there, so I think I'll just head on home.  But, hey, thanks for coming to the game with me.  I know that's not your thing."

"Well," Adrian said, smiling, "it turned into a beautiful afternoon, didn't it?"

"Yeah," Brody said.  A shiver went down his spine as he thought about the sex they'd just had.  

After he'd been given a goodbye kiss at the front door, Brody said, "Hey, I almost forgot.  Next weekend the Colby State Theater Department is doing Desire under the Elms.   Wanna come with me?"

"I love cumming with you, baby."

"Pervert!  You know what I mean."

"That's O'Neill, isn't it?"

"Yeah.  I've never read the play, but Bruce, my English instructor, says we should all go see it."

"I've never seen that play, though I did read it in college.  I'd love to see it.  Can I look at my calendar and get back to you?"

"Sure.  Call me, okay?"

"Yeah, or you could call me.  With your schedule I never know whether you're in class, at the shop here, or at the one in Higgins."

They kissed and Brody left.

*          *          *

Sitting in the car on the drive home Brody was aware that his nether region was a little tender, but it also felt good.  He'd never enjoyed bottoming much until he'd done it for Pete and then for Adrian.  Those guys knew what they were doing, and he had to admit it was pretty great.  `I just don't want to wind up being somebody's permanent bottom boy.'

He stopped at the mall on the way home, went into Penney's, and bought himself a warm coat.  At the game he'd been cold, too, though he wasn't about to admit that to Adrian.  

By the time he got home, he was really hungry.  He had pork chops and chicken breasts in the freezer, but nothing that wasn't frozen except more soup.  `Fuck it,' he said to himself, `I'll just go to Gridley's.'  He cut all the labels off his new coat, put it on, pulling the detachable hood up to cover his head and ears, and set off walking through the snow to his favorite bar.

He didn't know quite what to think about Adrian.  True, the man was incredibly good to look at and a great fuck.  But, though he seemed to be trying to restrain his urges, he was obviously by nature a controller.  So Brody suspected it would only be a matter of time before the dominating instincts resurfaced.

In his warm coat, Brody was enjoying walking through the lightly falling snow.  The wind had died down, and Higgins was beginning to look like a Christmas card.  He hadn't seen snow like this since he was in high school, his Marine assignments always having kept him in warmer parts of the world.

His enjoyment of the winter wonderland was ended abruptly when a thought popped into his head.  `Dave has to know Adrian.  The things he's said to me must be based on something that's happened between them.  He'd have no reason to lie to me, would he?  But if Dave's telling the truth, then Adrian's lying.'  Somehow, despite all the history of antagonism between them, Brody was more inclined to believe Dave than Adrian.  `Fuck!  What does that say about the man I'm sleeping with?'

He ordered a cheeseburger, fries, and cole slaw, along with a beer, when he got to the bar.  `I'll eat healthy tomorrow,' he said to himself.

He took the only empty booth in the place.  He'd just squirted a big puddle of catsup into the basket containing his fries when someone slid into the seat across from him.  He looked up to see Dave Cromer grinning at him.

"You don't mind sharing your booth, do you, Cox?"

"Nope.  Glad to have the company."

"What are you doing here this evening?  I'd have thought you'd have been with Junior."

"He's at the restaurant.  But we did go to the game this afternoon."

"Junior went to a football game?"

"Yup," Brody said smugly.  He dabbled a fry in catsup and ate it.

"Damn!  That must have been a first."

"Okay, Cromer, that's it!  I'm fuckin' sick of you making comments like that.  What do you know about Adrian that you're just dying to tell me?  And how the fuck do you know anything about him?  You said in the shop the other day you'd tell me about it someday.  I think this is the time."

Dave had been about to take a bite of his burger, but he set it down.  He sighed.  "Yeah, you need to know.  I should have told you sooner, but–"

"Hey, look who's here.  I'm sure they'll be glad to share their booth with us!"

Both men looked up to see Dean Clevenger and Squats Pardee, guys they'd played baseball with the previous summer, smiling down at them.  The last thing Brody wanted at that moment was an interruption, but they couldn't refuse to share the booth with their Hammers buddies.  He looked at Cromer, who rolled his eyes, and they both slid over.

The four talked about the game that afternoon and the Cougars' big win over Edinboro.  Dave was the only one of the four who hadn't been there.  After they had finished their food, they had another round of beers and talked while watching on the monitors hanging from the ceiling in various locations around the room as Purdue played some West Coast team..  

The evening wore on.  More beer was consumed.  The talk was mostly about college football, though Dean at one point asked Dave about his new house.

"I didn't know you had a new house," Brody said.  "I thought you were living in a mobile home."

"I was, but I've bought a place outside of town."


"It's in that wooded area on the right off Toledo Road."

"I haven't been there.  I think they were just beginning to build there when I graduated."

"Yeah, this house is four years old.  It's a ranch.  One of the first to be built out there."

"Lots of trees and privacy?"

"Uh huh.  That's one of the reasons I bought it.  Besides, I figure it's a good investment.  The mortgage is a little steep, but the business is doing well and Dad helped me with the down payment."  He took a swallow of his beer and then continued.  "I wouldn't have needed help if it weren't for the divorce."

Purdue scored, and in the general cheering that went on inside Gridley's the subject of Dave's new house was dropped.

Squats and Dean stayed until the game was over.  So did Dave.  Brody was hoping that the other two would leave so he and Dave could continue their interrupted conversation, but that never happened.  Finally, at midnight, Dave said, "Sorry, guys, but I've got to get home.  The dog will mess all over the place if I don't get back to let him out."

"Yeah, and I've had a long day, too," Brody said, "so I think I'll go hit the rack."

"Wussies!" Dean said.  "This place is going to be open for a while yet.  We're gonna stick around and soak up some more brewskis."

"Okay, guys.  Have fun.  I hope you're walking," Dave said.

"We're gonna call my wife when we're ready to leave.  She and Squats' wife are at home doing woman stuff together.  They said they'd be happy to come after us if we'd just get out of the house for the evening."

Outside the bar Brody said, "Look, I know it's late, but you're driving me fucking crazy!  What do you know about Adrian that I should know?"

"Brody, I apologize.  But it's a long story, and I can't tell you tonight.  Not here in this frigid fuckin' parking lot.  And I do have to get home to let Tom out."

"Your dog's name is Tom?"

"Yeah, he's part German shepherd, but he looks like a wolf."

It was only when he was home in bed that Brody figured it out.  `Tom?  The dog looks like a wolf.  Well, duh!'


Thanks, as always to Drew and Mickey for their encouragement and editorial help.

If you'd like to email me about this story, please do at  Be sure to put the title of the story in the subject line so I'll not it's not spam.  Thanks.  --Tim