Jason grumbled as he sat on the couch of the trailer Grant had purchased. “Your backyard, G?”
Grant shrugged, sitting across from him on the small dining table. “This is where she wanted it.”
“Your backyard, G?” Jay repeated.
Grant sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “What did you want me to do, Jay? What did you want me to say? No, I’m sorry, Re. We can’t put the trailer in the backyard. See, the real reason why I bought it was so Jason and I could have a place to fuck that wouldn’t be our bed.” Continue reading
Grant heard a knock on his hotel room door. He looked at the alarm clock on the nightstand and down at his Superman pajama pants and white undershirt. He was not willing to get out of his warm bed to answer the door at 6 in the morning after a long night of ghost hunting. The knock came again and Grant decided against ignoring it.
“Steve?” he asked.
“Can I come in?” Steve asked, also clad in his pajama pants.
Grant stepped back to let Steve enter, but he didn’t move. “Steve?” Continue reading
Steve shoved Grant down on the floor in his office. Moans and grunts were exchanged as Grant’s shirt was ripped off his body. Lips crashed together, tongues viciously dueling as Steve’s hands roamed newly naked flesh. Grant slowly pulled his lover’s shirt up, revealing the colorful tattoos. He flipped them over, pulling Steve’s shirt off as they went. His tongue traced the intricate designs causing the younger man beneath him to moan and squirm in pleasure and impatience. Continue reading
Steve set the box of tissues he was carrying around on the kitchen counter when he heard the door bell ring. Grumbling his way to the door, he seriously considered not opening it. He was sick, hacking up a lung, blowing his nose constantly and he did not feel like having visitors right now.
Looking through the peephole, Steve saw Grant’s distorted face carrying a bowl of something. He sighed. How could he not open the door for Grant? “Hey,” he said as the door swung open.
Grant triumphantly held up the bowl. “Hey! I come bearing homemade chicken noodle soup!” He brushed past Steve and took the bowl into the kitchen, putting it in the fridge. Steve followed him silently.
“Hey, Steve! How’s it going?” Grant answered his phone.
“Not bad, but something’s wrong with my sink. Think you can come over and take a look at it?”
Grant shrugged at his wife, who was looking at him oddly. “Yeah, sure I can come take a look at it. I’ve got some time right now, that ok?”
“Yeah, yeah. That’s perfect.” Continue reading
Grant sat at his desk facing Jason looking at paperwork in his hand, sucking on a tootsie roll pop. Jason, sitting across from him, watched as the red candy ball disappeared between his lips, making those disturbing slurping sounds. “G,” he said sternly.
Grant looked up at him, taking the tootsie roll pop out of his mouth and licking his lips. Jason shifted in his seat as the noticeably red tongue traced the even redder and slightly swollen lips. “Yeah, Jay?”
Motioning towards the stationary camera set up in their office Jason told Grant, “Stop it.”
Steve sat in the driver’s seat of the tech van, white knuckles glued to the steering wheel. Jason and Grant had already gotten out of their Yukon and were motioning for him and Tango to join them so they could greet the owner of the campground they were going to investigate. Steve looked over at Tango who just simply looked back at him with that deer in headlight look that had become so endearing at times like these. “We’re staying here, in the woods?” Dave asked him.
Steve nodded very slowly. He looked out the windshield at Jay and Grant who seemed to be getting impatient and plotted the most vicious ways of murdering them. Jason stalked over to Steve’s door and pulled it open. “Get out here. Don’t flip out in front of the campground owner or your balls will be mounted on my wall.”
“You didn’t tell me we’d be fucking camping,” Steve whispered through gritted teeth. Continue reading
Dave Tango sat across from Samantha? Mary? Myra? Hell, he couldn’t remember her name. Whoever this girl was that his mother insist he take out to dinner was talking nonstop. Tango relished in the momentary silence when she would take a bite and chew. He really hoped she didn’t want dessert. He wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take.
His mom knew he was gay. Tango couldn’t understand why she was so insistent that he try to date girls anyway. It wasn’t like he was just going to up and change his mind and decide that, no, he definitely was not attracted to Steve. And no, he definitely did not have mind-blowing fantasies about the things they could do in the back of the tech van. This girl smelled like lilacs. Dave wrinkled his nose. He didn’t want freakin’ lilacs. He wanted the smell of nasty, cooped-up-in-the van-for-hours Steve sweat. He didn’t understand what was so difficult to comprehend about this for his parents. Continue reading
Grant’s eyes went between the black bag sitting next to him and Jason standing at the foot of the bed. “Um, I think we need a code word,” he mumbled.
Pulling Grant’s shirt over his head, Jason nodded. “What do you want it to be? Something that you’ll remember, but not something that would just come out.”
Jason sat on the front porch of the cabin just staring at his cell phone. He clicked the button to allow him to listen to the voicemail again.
Hey, Jay. Reanna isn’t… she’s being…. I don’t know if I’m going to make it to the cabin for the weekend. I’m really sorry. I’ll call you later.
I love you.
The last part was whispered, telling him that the wife was in cling mode. Jason grumbled to himself and grabbed a beer from the fridge he had painstakingly packed full of Grant’s favorites. He looked at the makings of chicken alfredo in the fridge and slammed the door shut. Walking back out to the porch, he twisted the top off, throwing it in the corner of the room since Grant wouldn’t be there to bitch at him. With a loud grunt, Jason sat in the rocking chair looking out at the lake, their lake, and propped his feet on the ledge in front of him. Continue reading