Coming Home: The Davis Brothers


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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Chapter 2

"Ugh. Be quiet," Benji moaned as he slapped his hand on the buzzing alarm clock. He rolled over and snuggled up to the warmth of Ben's side. He scratched his fingers through the thick auburn colored fur in the middle of Ben's chest. "I wish I had the day off with you."

Ben sniffed and cleared his voice, still gruff from sleep. "Well, you're important now, Mr. Assistant Manager. That means Saturday meetings with the big-wigs every quarter."

Ben was teasing him and Benji couldn't help but roll his eyes. "I suppose. What are you going to do today while I'm slaving away in a meeting?"

"Well, the weather is supposed to be nice today. Now that it's starting to warm up, I'll probably work on the bike. It could use a tune up after sitting in the garage all winter. Probably go for a ride."

Benji really pouted now, poking his bottom lip out. "Well, shoot! I haven't ridden with you in forever. So not fair."

"Don't worry, baby. You'll get lots of opportunities to ride my hog."

Ben wiggled his eyebrows, but Benji wasn't impressed with the innuendo. "Oh, is that what you're calling it now? A `hog'?"

Ben grabbed Benji's hand and pulled it below the blankets and wrapped the slender fingers around his semi-hard bone.

"You seemed to enjoy riding it last night," Ben said with a grunt as he rolled and grabbed for Benji.

But Benji was too quick. With a short burst of laughter, he jumped out of bed and scurried into the bathroom. "Sorry, gotta go to work," he tossed over his shoulder.

Ben chuckled as he got out of bed and stalked after his playful little man into the bathroom. While Benji heated the shower, Ben relieved himself at the toilet. While taking a piss, he picked at the flakes of jizz that had dried in the fur on his chest and stomach. Yes, his baby had definitely enjoyed himself last night. He had ridden Ben's fat hog hard and fast until he screamed in pleasure and sprayed his load all over Ben's body. He looked over at Benji, who was staring at the stream of piss blasting out of his cock. When he realized that he had been caught looking, his cheeks went pink and he jumped into the shower.

Ben flushed the toilet and Benji yelped at the sudden temperature change. "Ben!"

Ben laughed out loud and followed Benji into the shower. Ben turned them so that Ben's back was to the shower head. Benji reached up and tugged at some of the dried semen in the middle of his chest.

"Ow!" Ben said with a jerk as Benji pulled at a hardened blob of spunk and ripped out a couple of chest hairs.

Ben reached down and gave Benji's wispy pubes a sharp tug. Benji yelped and jumped back, covering the small patch of blond hair above his penis with both of his hands. "Bully!"

"You started it, little man," he said with a snicker, not one bit sorry.

"Not on purpose," he said as he snuggled up to Ben. Placing his hands on the bigger man's hips, he leaned up on his tip-toes and pressed a kiss to Ben's lips.

Ben's arms surrounded Benji. "I love you, baby."

"I love you, too."

Ben leaned his head down and gave Benji a tender kiss. Benji sighed when Ben broke the kiss and he laid his head on the fur-covered muscles of Ben's chest. Ben pressed his lips to the top of Benji's head. The pair stood in the warm water, letting it cascade down their bodies, embracing each other in comfortable silence.

"Let's get you cleaned up," Benji finally said, patting Ben's chest with his hand. "You're kind of a mess and you smell. Other people might not appreciate it the way I do."

After sniffing in a big whiff of Ben's armpit and letting out a happy little moan, Benji grabbed the washcloth and loaded it up with shower gel.

Ben let out a sigh and closed his eyes. He relaxed as the warm water streamed over him and his little man washed and scrubbed every inch of his body with the washcloth and his soft, soapy hands. After he was clean, Benji used those glorious hands to rinse all of the soap away.

Ben opened his eyes when he finally felt Benji's hands leave his body.

"You want me to shave you?" Benji asked, rubbing his fingers over Ben's jaw. The coarse whiskers made a rasping noise.

"Mm, yeah. That'd be nice."

Benji grabbed the wet/dry razor from the shelf and motioned for Ben to squat down. Ben gripped the sides of the tub as he moved onto his knees. Benji swallowed nervously. The sight of his big, manly boyfriend kneeling in front of him, looking up at him with those sexy green eyes was just too much. His dick was already holding at half-mast and now it surged to full bone and laid rigid against his belly, pointing towards the ceiling.

"Can't help it," Benji muttered.

Ben smiled and leaned forward and slid his tongue up the length of Benji's dick. Benji gasped and shuddered, leaning a hand on Ben's shoulder for support.

"Don't do that while I'm trying to shave you," he warned, squeezing Ben's shoulder tight.

Ben kissed the tip of Benji's cock, then leaned back. "I'm all yours," he said with a grin, holding his hands up in surrender.

"Yep. All mine." Benji smiled down at Ben, who shot him a wink.

Benji clicked on the razor and ran it slowly and carefully over each of Ben's cheeks and down his neck. He popped open the trimmer and took special care around his mustache, carefully sculpting until it was just right.

"Oh, god, that's hot," Benji whispered. "You look like Senior from `American Chopper' now." Benji turned off the razor and set it back on the shelf.

Ben ran his hand over his smooth cheeks and smoothed his fingers down the thick horseshoe mustache Benji had carved. "Yeah? That's good?"

"Yeah. But you're way sexier than he is."

"You think I'm sexy?"

"Yeah," Benji said with a pant. "You're a big stud." Benji ran his hand over Ben's short auburn hair. He traced a finger across an eyebrow, pausing at the scar that bisected it. The way Ben looked up at him made his heart soar. Benji felt like he was the only person that mattered in the whole world to Ben. He felt treasured and desired. He felt wanted. Ben's hands slid up his thighs and his eyes took on a darker, more predatory gleam. Ben wanted him. The way his big man looked at him made him feel sexy and it made him horny. He was already down on his knees... Maybe...

Benji swallowed visibly and stepped closer to Ben. "Ben, please..."

"Please what, baby?" he smirked, knowing what Benji wanted.

Benji moved a little closer and rubbed his rock hard dick against Ben's chin, back and forth across the thick whiskers of his `stache. "Please, Ben," he whispered. Then so quiet, Ben barely registered his next words, "Suck it..."

Ben looked up at his younger lover with a raised eyebrow, a little surprised by his boldness. Well, the whispered plea was bold for Benji. Ben grabbed Benji's hips and ran his tongue up the length of Benji's dick, then took him in his mouth. His cheeks hollowed in as he applied tight suction, taking all of Benji's length into his mouth.

Benji moaned and trembled as the warm moistness engulfed him. He grabbed onto Ben's shoulders as Ben's head bobbed up and down. He felt the urge to thrust in and out, but Ben's hands held his hips firm, holding him in place, so that Ben and only Ben set the pace. Even on his knees, Ben was in control. Ben was always in control and Benji loved it. He loved when Ben took charge, told him what to do, made him do whatever the big man wanted.

It was such a fucking turn on to pleasure Benji. His body was so responsive to every touch of Ben's hands and every flick of Ben's tongue. Ben would have grinned if his mouth wasn't already busy. He slid his right hand around the front of Benji's thigh and slipped it up between his legs. Benji gasped and moaned, spreading his legs further. His little slut apparently wanted more. Ben slowed his assault on Benji's cock as he slipped a finger between Benji's cheeks, seeking out the hidden entrance. He circled around the tightly furled opening, then sunk a thick finger inside. His finger slid easily into the tight opening, still a little relaxed and wet from their middle of the night fuck.

Ben's cock lurched and pre-come dribbled down the length as he thought of being buried inside his boy's tight channel. Last night he had filled Benji to overflowing with one of his big loads, just like he did almost every night, and any other time he got the chance.

Ben wiggled his finger around and immediately found the target. As he rubbed the rough pad of his finger across the sensitive prostate gland, Benji's cries became frantic and he tried to thrust forward and back into Ben's mouth, just on the brink of shooting.

Ben couldn't have that. He needed to be inside his boy when Benji came. His cock ached to be inside Benji's tight little ass, all ten inches buried to the hilt. He pulled his mouth back and pulled his finger free.

"No," Benji quivered, trying to grab onto Ben, to pull him back. "Don't stop, please, Ben. I'm so close."

"I wanna be inside your ass when you come."

Benji drew in a shuddering breath. "Oh god, yes. Inside me. Fill me."

Ben stood up and grabbed the bottle of silicone-based lube from the shelf, bought specially for fucking in the shower. He poured some onto his fingers, then all over his cock. He pushed Benji against the back wall of the shower and pressed his slick hand between his boy's legs. He ran his hand over his cock, hissing as the slippery fingers caressed over his sensitive head. He got into position, squatted down and lined it up. With a firm push upwards, he was home.

Benji gasped as Ben's thick cock slid inside him. There was a slight burn on first entry, but it quickly gave way to pleasure as Ben's girth poked, then slid across his prostate. The heat of Ben's girth was unbearable. Benji wrapped his arms around Ben's neck, while one leg wrapped around Ben's thigh. Ben's hands cupped Benji's ass as he lifted him and pinned him against the wall.

With a loud grunt, Ben pulled his hips back and thrust forward. He held his little man against the wall as he snapped his hips in and out. Benji's cries of pleasure let him know that he was hitting his g-spot with every thrust. He kissed Benji's chin, ears, neck... anywhere he could reach. He held Benji tight while he pounded him into the wall.

Benji's whole body was like one raw nerve. Everywhere Ben touched and kissed made him ache with need, brought him closer and closer to coming. Ben leaned down and sucked hard on the side of Benji's neck, the exact spot that drove him crazy. The friction of Ben's hairy stomach muscles against his dick were heaven. Ben's dick was so big, so thick. It never let up its relentless assault on his sensitive prostate. Ben was so damn good. Oh, god, he was the best ever. Just a little more and Benji would come undone.

Benji gasped and clawed at Ben's back. His head tried to thrash back and forth, but it was locked in place by Ben's mouth and teeth. "Ben, oh! Ben, you're gonna mark-- Oh, god!"

A triumphant feeling soared through Ben. He was about to make his baby come, and come hard. He bit down on Benji's neck, and sucked hard. Right on target, Ben felt Benji's body go rigid from his head down to his toes. He let out a shout that sounded vaguely like his name with the word `love'. When Ben felt the first burst of hot cream between their bodies, Benji's sphincter clamped down hard around Ben's shaft.

Ben continued to pound hard into the vise grip of a hole as Benji's muscles continued to repeatedly contract around him as if it was trying to milk the sperm straight from his balls. It was just too much. His dick stiffened even harder and throbbed.

Ben pulled his mouth from Benji's neck and drew in a deep breath. "I'm coming, baby! I'm fucking coming now!"

"Come inside me, Ben," Benji begged, while gripping his fingers around Ben's body, and squeezing his ass muscles as tight as he could.

"Oh, fuck," Ben moaned. One last final thrust into the tight sheath and Ben erupted inside his little man, sending jets of hot spunk deep inside his bowels...

"Love you, Ben," Benji whispered. "Love you so much."

Ben blinked and his body shuddered one last time. He wasn't even sure how long he had pinned Benji in place while he came down from a shockingly intense orgasm. He drew in a deep breath and let it out as Benji's body pushed his softening cock out of his ass, followed by a flow of milky white jizz down the inside of his trembling leg. He let Benji down slowly, making sure to keep a tight hold on him so that he didn't slip or fall. Benji let out a soft sigh as his arm loosened from around Ben's neck. Ben leaned down and gave Benji a deep, soul-searing kiss.

After a quick wipe-down with the washcloth, Ben shut off the shower and helped Benji out.

Ben couldn't help but smile as he rubbed the big fluffy towel over Benji's body. Benji stood silently with his eyes closed, lips slightly parted, his arms and legs flopping as if he was boneless. As Ben rubbed the towel over Benji's pretty blond hair one last time, he decided that he wouldn't mention the over-sized, bright crimson bruise on the side of his neck. Hopefully no one would notice when Benji went to work. With one last kiss on the forehead, Ben gave Benji a pat on the rear and Benji padded out of the bathroom to get dressed for work.

* * *

Benji shifted in the conference room chair. He was still a little sore from the pounding he got from Ben in the shower and sitting in this chair for hours wasn't going to help one bit. It was like he could still feel a phantom Ben inside him. Not that he was complaining. He'd give it up to Ben anytime he wanted.

Ace Sinclair, the owner of Ace's Trucking and Storage Company, looked at Benji with a smirk. "You okay over there?" the older man asked.

"Yes, sir. I'm fine," Benji replied as he slunk down just a bit in his chair. He couldn't help the blush that crept up his cheeks. Good thing the lights were turned down. Maybe no one would see. Benji tugged up the collar of his polo shirt and buttoned another button. Maybe they wouldn't notice the huge hickey at the base of his neck either.

Ace chuckled softly and Benji couldn't help but feel that the boss-man knew exactly what Benji was thinking and feeling. He had wondered several times if his boss's boss was gay. The older man was handsome and distinguished with that sprinkling of gray in his dark hair. He was successful and powerful, while at the same time, friendly and down-to-earth. Benji wasn't attracted to him physically, but he could see how others would find him irresistible.

Ace turned back to the screen, pressed a button on his remote and flipped to the next slide of his PowerPoint presentation and continued discussing the quarterly figures.

Benji looked across the conference table. His direct boss, Cole, was watching the slides nodding his head in agreement. The assistant warehouse manager, Douglas, looked over at Benji. His eyes looked glazed over as if he was having trouble staying awake. Benji covered his mouth to hide his smile. He understood exactly how Douglas felt.

This was going to be a long meeting.

* * *

"Sorry," Benji muttered as his cell phone started vibrating again. It was the fourth time in a row during the meeting. He pulled the phone off the table and slid it under the table into his lap, fumbling with his fingers to get it to be quiet.

"Maybe you should get that, Benji," Cole said. "It must be important."

Benji looked up at his boss, glad to see that he was smiling and didn't seem to be annoyed. "Uh. Okay. I'll be right back, sorry about that."

Benji stood up and moved to the corner of the conference room. He looked at the screen, but whoever it was wasn't in his contacts and the number wasn't one he recognized. "Hello?" he answered quietly, as he turned towards the corner for a bit of privacy.

Ace had paused his presentation while Benji answered the phone. He set his remote down and sat down on the edge of the conference table. He turned to Cole and Douglas and the three started to talk about last week's baseball game.

At Benji's gasp, the three of them looked up in time to hear Benji cry out "Ben?!" as he dropped the phone and slumped to his hands and knees, drawing in hyperventilating gasps of breath.

* * *

Ben spent the morning giving his bike a tune up. It was nice to get the Harley-Davidson out of the garage after a cold winter. After he got the engine revving and rumbling timed exactly right, he hand washed and waxed the bike until it sparkled like it was brand new. He stepped back and looked over the big custom Harley-Davidson Softail. He leaned in and scraped off a bit of wax he missed. Fucking perfect.

He pulled on his sunglasses and helmet and took to the road.

Leaning back, feet forward, the bike roared and vibrated beneath him as Ben cruised the streets. Ben really wished that Benji was riding with him. He loved having Benji on the back of his bike. He loved the way Benji clung to him, holding tight.

And when Ben went all `biker stud', as Benji called it, nothing made his boy hotter. Benji loved to see him dressed like this: sunglasses, half-helmet, boots, tight jeans, sleeveless shirt that showed off his USMC tat and his beefy arms. Multiple rounds of hot steamy sex with his boy was guaranteed.

A smug sneer spread across Ben's face. As soon as his boy got home, he planned on having Benji on the back of his bike. After a long ride, he planned on bending him over the bike and going for another ride. He was gonna fuck him right there in the garage, Benji completely naked, while Ben was fully clothed.

The last time they rode, as soon as they got into the garage, Benji had pulled all of his clothes off and begged for Ben. He actually begged, saying "Please, fuck me, Ben. I need your dick inside me!"

Ben had unzipped his jeans, pulled his cock out, and bent Benji over the bike. He pounded his boy like a jackhammer until Benji shot his load, screaming, spurting jizz all over the bike and the garage floor. He didn't stop until his own load was overflowing around his cock, dripping down Benji's balls and his leg.

The memory had the crotch of Ben's jeans feeling a little snug. Oh, yeah, Ben had it all planned out.

As he roared through the intersection, time suddenly stood still. The kid in the Honda was busy talking on his phone and clearly didn't see him as he changed lanes without a blinker. Ben swerved, but the car clipped his bike.

The last thing he thought of before he slammed into the concrete was his Benji.

* * *

Saturday afternoon, Brandon got in his truck and headed over to the flip. Even though a delay in the permits was pushing the demo back another week, the damned kid and his ugly mutt were still supposed to be cleared out by today. Brandon hoped that he wouldn't have to use force on the kid. He didn't need that shit. He had enough to worry about.

He should have made Walker deal with this. But Brandon never told Walker about the kid. Lonnie wasn't any of Walker's business. Walker better keep his eyes and his hands away from Lonnie if he knew what was good for him.

Shit. Where the hell did that come from?

It was bad enough that the past few days he couldn't stop thinking about him. He couldn't even jack off without the kid's ass and mouth appearing in his head and ruining things. `So what if it made him come harder than he had in years?' he had thought while wiping a stray blob of spunk from the headboard last night. Damn, when was the last time he had distance like that? Or volume, he thought as he looked at the big wad of tissues in his hand.

As soon as he opened the back door, little ugly came running. He was yipping and barking his fool head off.

"God damn it," Brandon muttered. "I knew it."

Brandon shut the door hard in frustration and Ricky barked at him.

"Be quiet. You're giving me a god damned headache."

Ricky ran through the house towards the bedroom, barked, then came back to Brandon. He ran a circle around Brandon, then ran towards the bedroom again, barking the entire time. He was clearly agitated and wanted Brandon to follow him.

Brandon sighed. "I'm coming, little ugly. Hold your damn horses. Lonnie? Where are you? I know you're here. Don't bother hiding."

Brandon turned into the bedroom and all breath left his body. Lonnie was laying on the mattress, clutching his stomach with one hand. The other was holding a bloody towel to the side of his head.

"Lonnie?" Brandon launched himself towards the mattress and dropped down to his knees. "Are you okay? What happened?" He turned Lonnie's head gently, checking him for damage, while making him look up.

Lonnie's eyes were glazed over and he seemed to have trouble focusing. "Brandon?"

"Yeah, it's me. You okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine. I'll be out of here today. I swear."

"I'm not worried about that right now. What happened to you?"

Lonnie squeezed his eyes shut. A tear caught in those long lashes before it dripped down his face, followed by another. "I got jumped behind the bank. I was going to put a deposit down on a place. They took everything I had on me."

Brandon didn't care about the kid's money. As he reached for the towel to look at the cut, Brandon noticed his hair was cut short; his bangs were still a little long in the front, but in back it was trimmed off at the nape of his neck. He kinda looked like one of those kids that wear skinny jeans and dress in all black. Emo, or something.

Lonnie tried to move away, but Brandon wasn't having it. "Hold still. Lemme see. You might need to go to the hospital."

"What do you care?" Lonnie cried out, pushing Brandon's hand away. "Just leave me alone! I told you I'd be gone today."

Lonnie turned away and Brandon let out a grunt and pushed up to his feet. He didn't need this bullshit. He had enough stress in his life. "Fine. You're an adult. Do what you want."

As Brandon turned and walked towards the door, Ricky yapped. For a second, Brandon thought that the dog looked like he was scolding him or was maybe even disappointed in him. `It's just a fucking dog,' he thought. `He doesn't have feelings.'

As he walked through the door, he turned and watched Lonnie struggle to make his way to the bathroom. The small man fell to his hands and knees and promptly threw up all over the ugly vinyl floor.

* * *

"Wait right here," Brandon said as he sat Lonnie down in one of the hard plastic chairs.

"I can't..." Lonnie let out a sigh and gave up. He argued until he was blue in the face, but Brandon insisted he go to the emergency room. Even though he didn't have insurance. Even though nearly all of his money was stolen. Even though Brandon had to practically carry him and lift him into his huge ass pickup truck. Even though he simply just didn't want to go to the hospital.

Brandon went to the triage nurse and signed in for Lonnie. He took the clipboard and pen and sat down with Lonnie.

"I can't pay for this," the boy mumbled. He folded the bloody towel over to make a clean spot. Then after noting that the bleeding had slowed way down, he held it back up to the cut on his head.

"And I said don't worry about it," Brandon snapped. He took a breath and calmed himself. He lifted the towel away from Lonnie's head. He pushed back the strands of black hair, which he figured was normally silky soft, but was now crusted with blood, and took a quick peek at the wound. "It's not too bad. I've seen a lot worse. What happened to your hair, by the way?" He let go of the towel and let Lonnie hold it back against his head.

"I cut it."


Lonnie glanced sideways at Brandon, then looked back at the floor and shrugged. "I didn't like it long anymore," he said before muttering, "Made me look like a girl."

That Lonnie cared so much about what Brandon thought almost made the big guy smile. But as he thought about it, he decided that maybe he liked it just a little bit longer: more than what he had now, but less than before. Just enough to grab on to... He shook the thought out of his head. "It's your hair, wear it the way you like."

The pair of men waited for over an hour and a half before a nurse finally took them into the back to see a doctor. Then they had to wait for the damned doctor. By the time the doctor finally decided to grace them with his presence, Brandon was about ready to kick some ass.

The tall, lean, grey-haired doctor looked at Brandon suspiciously. "And you are...?"

"I brought him in," Brandon said, not offering any more details, nor was he planning to. Brandon also noticed that the grumpy old coot didn't bother to introduce himself.

Brandon pulled his ball cap lower onto his brow and stood against the wall with his arms folded across his chest. He didn't like the way the doctor was looking at Lonnie, like he was too good for the kid, like Lonnie was just garbage. Of course, it didn't help any that Lonnie's t-shirt was threadbare, his track pants were ripped, and his big toe looked like it was about to bust out of his sneaker. Okay, so maybe he looked like a homeless kid, but that didn't mean he shouldn't be treated with respect.

As Brandon suspected, Lonnie had a slight concussion. The cut on his head luckily didn't need stitches. He'd just have a goose egg for a couple of days.

"You should get tested for HIV and STIs," the doctor said matter-of-factly to Lonnie, while giving him a disapproving eye.

Lonnie's mouth gaped open. "I'm not a junkie or a whore," he said defensively.

The doctor's eyes cut to Brandon, who narrowed his eyes in a scathing glare. The homophobic asshole had no right to talk to Lonnie that way. He ground his teeth together and bit his tongue. If he opened his mouth, he'd say something or do something that would probably get him thrown out and tossed in jail.

"The testing's free through the homeless youth program."

Lonnie pursed his lips and muttered, "Fine."

The doctor looked at Brandon when he gave instructions that Lonnie was to take Tylenol for the pain and to rest for the next couple of days and to return if any more symptoms presented.

Well, fuck! The doctor must have thought Brandon was his pimp or... or dealer... or they were a couple or... something. "Oh... He's not... I'm not--"

"He's my landlord," Lonnie said with an eye-roll. It wasn't exactly a lie and Lonnie didn't have the patience for Brandon's stammering over whatever the status of their `relationship' was.

The doctor just smiled condescendingly, like he didn't believe him. "Yeah, sure. Fine. A nurse will be in to draw blood and clean you up. Then you'll be okay to leave after you get the results, okay?" He looked between Lonnie and Brandon.

"Okay," Lonnie muttered.

"Fine," Brandon grumbled.

Brandon started to get impatient while waiting for the nurse. He was never very good at sitting still and he never liked hospitals. He and Lonnie hadn't spoken a word the entire time. Not that he really cared.

Brandon looked at the dejected boy. He couldn't very well throw him out on the streets tonight. He just got mugged for Christ sake. Brandon sighed inwardly. Since the demo wasn't going to start for another week because of the delays, the kid could stay at the house for one more week. That would be better than him being on the street where no one would know where he was... where Brandon wouldn't know where he was. One more week. Then he had to go.

After the nurse took Lonnie's blood and cleaned his cut, they had to stick around for another hour or so for the results.

"You don't have to stay," Lonnie said as he looked down at his lap and picked at a stray thread hanging from one of the tears in his track pants.

Brandon simply grunted, not moving from the wall.

Lonnie laid his head back on the exam table and sighed. He closed his eyes and tried to relax.

Brandon was about to speak when his cell phone started vibrating. He pulled it out and saw that he had two missed calls from Benji, and Benji was calling again. It must be important, he thought as he answered. "Hello?"

"Brandon! It's Ben, he's--" Benji hiccuped and let out a sob. His voice was frantic and raw. "He's in the ER. I need you, Brandon!"

"Benji, calm down. I'm already here. I'll be right there. Sit tight and stay calm."

"You're what? Where?"

"I'm here. I'll be right there, Benji."

"Hurry," he pleaded.

Brandon hung up the phone and looked over at Lonnie, who was sitting up on his elbows, looking at him all concerned. "Everything okay?"

"Something's happened to my brother. His boyfriend is here in the ER freaking out. I'm sure it's not as bad as it seems. I'm gonna go check on him and I'll be back to take you home."

Lonnie nodded and Brandon rushed out of the room. He found Benji sitting in the ER waiting room. He sat in one of the plastic chairs in a daze, his shoulders slumped forward, just staring at the ground. An older man was standing next to him, looking extremely uncomfortable as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other.


Benji looked up at Brandon and burst into tears, burying his face in his hands.

"Hey, buddy," Brandon said calmly and quietly. He sat down next to Benji and pulled him into his arms. "What's going on?" he asked as he rubbed a circle on his back.

Benji lifted his head, wiped his hand across his nose and sniffled. "Ben was in an accident, on his motorcycle. He's in surgery. They're setting his arm or something."

Brandon felt his chest tighten and he took a deep breath. His little brother was his best friend and his only family besides for his mom. If anything ever happened to him... He closed his eyes and slowly breathed in and then let out a deep breath. He leaned his head on top of Benji's and spoke quietly and soothingly, "It's gonna be okay, Benji. Let me try to find out what's going on, okay? I'll take care of everything. Just breathe slow and relax."

Brandon stood up and held his hand out to the quiet man. "Hey. Brandon Davis."

"Hi, I'm Cole," he said as he shook his hand. "I work with Benji and Ben."

"Thanks for bringing him down."

"No problem. He wasn't in any condition to drive. Listen, um.... If you don't need me... My wife is waiting for me at home..."

"Oh, yeah. I'll take care of him from here. Thanks again."

Cole nodded and put his hand on Benji's shoulder. "Let us know if you need anything, okay?"

"Thanks, Cole."

"Okay. Let me know how Ben is."

"I will," Benji said with a nod.

After Cole left, Brandon went to the triage nurse to get an update on his brother.

* * *

It could have been worse. Much worse. Ben had a broken right arm and a broken left wrist. He'd have casts on both of his arms. He was damned lucky he didn't kill himself. God damned lucky. Brandon wanted to beat his ass for not being more careful.

Brandon sat with his arm around Benji's shoulders, and he was finally able to get Benji calm and relaxed. He had a feeling it was going to be a long wait.

"Mr. Davis?"

Brandon looked up at the nurse. "Mr. O'Reilly is ready. You can pay at the window down the hall."

He stood up as Lonnie walked up from behind the nurse. The nurse held out the paperwork and Brandon took it and thanked her. He could feel Benji staring a hole into his back. Sure enough, when he turned around, Benji was looking at Lonnie, then back at Brandon, then back at Lonnie...

Brandon tried not to scowl. He didn't need... whatever the fuck this was... right now.

"Come on, sit down," Brandon said to Lonnie. He put his hand on Lonnie's back and moved him over to sit next to Benji. "Lonnie, this is Benji, my brother's boyfriend. Benji, this is Lonnie. He's... Uh..." Brandon couldn't think of what to say Lonnie was. A buddy? A friend? The homeless guy squatting at the company's flip? "I'll be right back."

After Brandon paid Lonnie's bill at the cashier's window, he got his prescription filled at the hospital pharmacy, then walked back to the chairs.

He froze in his tracks. Lonnie and Benji were sitting in the chairs facing each other, quietly chatting like they were old friends.

Benji looked up at Brandon and gave him a smile; it was a tired smile, but there was a hint of a mischievous little twinkle there. Brandon didn't like the looks of that little smirk one bit. Brandon was so fucked.

Brandon noticed that Lonnie was rubbing his left arm with his right hand, trying to warm up. He was just wearing a flimsy t-shirt and track pants. In the rush to get him to the ER, he hadn't thought to get him something more substantial to wear. Lonnie was shivering and Brandon could actually see the goosebumps on his arms. His nipples were hard as pebbles, pushing against the thin cotton shirt. The sight was just too damned distracting.

"Here." Brandon unbuttoned his flannel shirt and handed it to Lonnie, then sat down on the other side of Benji. Even though he was only wearing a wifebeater now, he was bigger with more meat on his bones. He'd be fine.

Out of the corner of his eye, Brandon watched Lonnie bring the shirt up to his nose and give it a quick sniff. With a smile on his face a mile wide, he pulled on the huge 3XLT shirt and buttoned it up, then rolled up the sleeves. The kid was absolutely swimming in the shirt, but he looked as happy as could be.

"Warm," he whispered to himself.

Brandon swallowed loudly and shifted in his seat, trying to alleviate the sudden pressure growing between his legs. Seeing the man in his shirt was strangely... enticing. Brandon thought back to when his ex-wife used to put on his shirts. It used to annoy the shit out of him. She'd leave them stinking of that perfume that used to make him gag. Even though he could probably get another wear out of them, he'd have to throw them in the hamper. Then she'd nag him about having to wash too many loads of laundry when it was her own damned fault.


"Huh?" Brandon looked up when Benji waved his hand in front of his face.

The smirk on Benji's face was still there, even moreso now. "I was talking to you. You didn't tell me that the dog food you wanted was for Lonnie's dog. You said it was for a stray."

"It was, so I thought," he said while throwing a dirty look at Lonnie.

"Lonnie was saying that you pretend like you don't like Ricky--"

"I don't," Brandon growled, crossing his arms over his chest. "He's an ugly little runt and he shits all over the yard."

"Yeah, sure you don't, big daddy." Benji smiled that wicked little smile again. Lonnie didn't say anything, but Brandon could see that he was trying to hide a snicker behind his hand.

Brandon scowled and pushed up to his feet. He pulled his Browning cap further down his brow to cover his eyes. "I need a smoke."

Brandon paced back and forth along the sidewalk outside of the ER doors as he smoked his cigarette. He should have taken Lonnie home, then came back to sit with Benji. Or he could have called Lonnie a cab. Shit. He didn't need Lonnie talking to Benji. He put out his cigarette and hurried back in, needing to get Lonnie out of there.

"I'm so sorry. My dad's an asshole, too," Benji was saying quietly to Lonnie. "I'm so lucky to have Ben. And Brandon, he's--"

"I'm what?" Brandon asked as he sat down. He narrowed his eyes and frowned.

An unfamiliar voice interrupted. "Brandon Davis?"

Brandon jumped up when Ben's doctor entered, and he was followed quickly by Benji and Lonnie. "Your brother is finished with the cast tech and is being discharged."

Brandon had Lonnie and Benji wait while he went and pulled up the truck. Several minutes later an orderly wheeled out a very cranky Ben Davis.

He had a cast on his left forearm that spanned from below his elbow, past his wrist and completely covered his palm, immobilizing his wrist and fingers. His right arm was in a shoulder sling and was completely covered from the shoulder to the wrist, with a bend that immobilized his elbow. He wouldn't be able to really make use of either of his hands. Other than the two obvious injuries, he had a cut above his eyebrow and a bruise on his cheek under his right eye. Several bruises were hidden under his clothes, but he was otherwise undamaged. His ego seemed to have taken the most damage, as he was scowling and muttering curses under his breath.

Benji ran to his lover, standing next to the wheelchair. "Ben..." He hung his head as tears spilled down his face. "I..." He choked on his words and tried to take a calming breath, but it wasn't working. He didn't want to cry, but he couldn't help himself. He wanted to hug and kiss Ben, but was apprehensive about doing it in public.

Ben's face softened at Benji's distress. "Hey," he whispered. "I'm okay, baby. Don't cry. C'mere. Give me a hug. I need a hug."

Benji sniffled and nodded and leaned in and hugged Ben around the neck. "I'm so glad you're okay," he said before giving Ben a bold kiss on the cheek. "I'm gonna take good care of you."

Ben wrinkled his face and sighed. He didn't want Benji to have to take care of him. It was his promised responsibility to take care of Benji, not the other way around. Ben didn't want to have to rely on anybody for anything, but it looked like for the foreseeable future, Ben needed Benji more than Benji needed him.

Ben looked past Benji's shoulder at the pretty young man standing behind Brandon. "Who's that?"

Brandon closed his eyes and groaned.

* * *

After dropping off Ben and Benji at Ben's place, Brandon took Lonnie `home'. The drive was filled with silence. It wasn't exactly uncomfortable, but there was a tension in the air that Brandon couldn't quite put his finger on. He could tell that Lonnie kept looking over at him, but he tried to ignore it.

Brandon cleared his throat, but his eyes stayed on the road. "You need to call your mom or somebody?"

"No. She'd just worry over nothing."

Once they arrived at the flip house, Brandon pulled into the driveway and shut off the engine. He got out of the truck and clipped his keys to his belt. He quickly went around to the passenger side, opening the door before Lonnie could get it open.

"Grab onto the sissy handle," Brandon told him as Lonnie unbuckled his seat belt.

"Excuse me?" Lonnie frowned, looking at him with a raised brow and a hand on his hip.

Brandon might have laughed under different circumstances, instead he winced and pointed to the handle in question. "I didn't mean... Forget it. Step onto the running board," he said as he held out his hand for Lonnie to hold onto. "Careful."

"Thanks," Lonnie said with a smile as he took Brandon's offered hand. He let go of the stupid handle, carefully stepped onto the running board, then hopped onto the ground. "They didn't have any bigger trucks on the lot?" he asked with an eye-roll.

Brandon quickly pulled his hand free and slammed the truck door shut. "I'm a big guy," he muttered.

"Yeah, I can see that," Lonnie whispered to himself.

Brandon chose to ignore the breathy commentary. "And I haul a lot of shit around for work."

They walked around to the back door, Brandon watching carefully, making sure that Lonnie wasn't dizzy or stumbling. Brandon followed Lonnie inside and Ricky yipped and hopped, happy to see his master alive and well.

Brandon let out a breath. "Listen. I was thinking I'd let you stay here another week. We're not going to do demo until next Monday now. So if you need a few days..."

Brandon watched Lonnie blink his eyes in surprise. "Yeah. Okay. Thanks."

"Okay," Brandon said with a nod.

"Benji seemed like a very nice guy," Lonnie said as he pulled Brandon's over-sized flannel shirt off. "Thanks."

Brandon took the offered shirt and shrugged it on, not bothering to button it up. "Yeah, he's a sweetie. He's good for my brother. So I'm gonna go. Remember what the doctor said."

Lonnie looked at Brandon for a moment. "You think you might stop by tomorrow night?"

Brandon shrugged. "Nah. Don't see why."

"Oh," Lonnie said, looking disappointed. He slid a little closer to Brandon. "I just thought maybe... well..." Lonnie's fingers ghosted over Brandon's hand.

Brandon stepped back, jerking his hand away from the sparks of Lonnie's touch. "Are you fucking hitting on me? I already told you. I ain't no fag, cupcake."

"Don't call me that," Lonnie said, raising his voice at Brandon for the first time.

"I can call you whatever I want," Brandon snarled. "Cupcake."

Lonnie scoffed. "God. You're such a homophobic asshole."

"Homophobic? I have a gay brother. I'm no homophobe. I sure don't have a reason to be afraid of a little sissy like you."

Brandon's harsh rejection finally pushed Lonnie over the edge. Lonnie blinked back the tears that pricked his eyes. He shoved Brandon's chest with both of his hands as hard as he could, getting even madder when Brandon didn't even budge an inch. "You're a big Neanderthal; a fucking self-loathing closet case!"

Brandon brought his arms up, slapping Lonnie's hands away. "Don't you fucking cuss at me and don't fucking touch me, because I sure as shit will hit you back."

Lonnie's mouth gaped open at Brandon's words. "You would, you hypocrite! You're nothing but a bully, scared of what people will think of you, so you try to hide it by hurting others. I don't know what I ever saw in you!"

Lonnie tried to push Brandon again, and though Brandon was totally stunned by Lonnie's admission, he managed to grab his arms.

"Let me go!" Lonnie screamed as he fought and slapped at Brandon. He tried to shove his knee into Brandon's crotch, and just barely connected with his dick and balls. A very hard dick and very blue balls.

"Knock it off!" Brandon growled. He tried to hold Lonnie by the upper arms, but he wasn't prepared when Lonnie grabbed at his cock. "Hey!"

Before Brandon could fully process what was going on, Lonnie was scrambling to unbuckle the big man's belt. Brandon looked down at the top of Lonnie's head, his hands pawing at Brandon's crotch. Brandon was stunned for a second, unable to move, only able to watch Lonnie's nimble fingers. Shaking out of his daze, he grabbed at the smaller man's trembling hands, but Lonnie managed to pull down the zipper. Since Brandon didn't wear underwear under his jeans, his cock sprang free.

Lonnie gasped aloud at the size of Brandon's erection. Lonnie may not have had experience with many different partners, but he knew what to do. He knew what guys liked. He just hoped he could do justice with a dick this size. He dropped down to his knees and wrapped both fists around the enormous shaft and sucked it into his mouth before Brandon could stop him.

Brandon groaned as the end of his cock was suddenly surrounded by moist heat. Lonnie gagged repeatedly on his ten inches as his head bobbed up and down. Lonnie had pulled back the foreskin, exposing the sensitive head to his swirling tongue. He couldn't deep throat it to the root, but his enthusiastic sucking more than made up for it, and he still took it deeper than any woman ever had. A small hand slid up and down with his mouth, twisting and pulling, while the other fondled and rolled his big nuts, which were already starting to tighten in their sack.

Brandon had never been sucked off like this in his life. Lonnie was doing it like he was starving for it, like he was made to suck cock, like his life depended on it. The sloppy slurping and sucking noises echoed in Brandon's ears.Then he started to moan and hum. The vibrations hit Brandon like a freight train. Not even a minute in and he was about to fucking lose it, like some teenage virgin getting his first blowjob on prom night. He felt the pressure building up and there was no stopping it.

"Fuck," Brandon groaned. His knees buckled and he gripped the back of Lonnie's head with one of his big hands. If he was going to suck his cock, then he was damn well going to do it right and finish it. "Suck it! Swallow my fucking load, boy!"

With a roar, Brandon bucked forward and exploded. He heard Lonnie choke and gag as the first blast of semen slammed against the back of his throat. Brandon loosened his grip on the boy's head, but Lonnie just moaned and greedily took it. He never pulled off, just sucked and swallowed, milking every single blast of hot spunk that shot out of Brandon's aching balls.

Even after Brandon came down from his climax, Lonnie continued to moan and suckle on his still hard shaft.

Brandon stepped back, dazed and stunned at what just happened. A dude had just given him the best blowjob of his life, making him come harder than he could ever remember. A fucking 11 out of 10.

He looked down at the young man's face and he started to panic. Lonnie looked up at him in awe, his pouty lips juicy wet, come dripping down his chin. Brandon's cock lurched at the sight, wanting more of that hot mouth.

Brandon had to get the hell out of there. He tucked his still erect cock into his jeans and hurried out of the house to his truck as fast as he could, vowing to himself that he would never, ever return.