Tropical Depression

by BA Tortuga

  “Yeah. Yeah. It’s just…. You know how you see something on the TV and you think it’s made up and suddenly it’s not and you get a second of missing out on all the years you thought it was a lie and it wasn’t?”

  “Oh.” She sniffed, her eyes shiny. “Oh, honey.” Momma gave him another hug, standing there with her arms looped around him.

  “Oh. Oh, I didn’t mean to….” He panicked a little, patting. “I’m okay. It’s okay.”

  Where the hell was Galen?

  “It’s okay, honey. I just….” She sniffed some more. “Well,” she said, letting go. “Those dishes are piling up.”

  He nodded, smiling at her, plunging his arms back into the dishwater, glad for something to do. “What’s your favorite Christmas song?”

  “I like ‘O Holy Night.’ Did you know that Galen’s is ‘O Little Town of Bethlehem’?”

  Shane chuckled, nodded. “He does a pretty good ‘Go Tell It On the Mountain’ too.”

  In fact, that was one of his favorite things, Galen singing at the top of his lungs, a touch tipsy, ass draped with tinsel. Not a Momma-appropriate memory, but a favorite, nonetheless.

  “He does. I should drag y’all to church on Sunday and make him sing.” She looked so happy at the thought.

  “Oh, I don’t think so” came Galen’s voice from the doorway.

  Shane grinned over, beaming at the peace in those dark eyes. Galen looked happy, settled. “I like ‘We Three Kings’ best. You could do that one.”

  “I’d just sing about that rubber cigar, and Momma would hurt me.”

  The guy next to him drying dishes hooted, and Momma laughed right out loud.

  “Now that we could sell tickets to.” He winked over, started washing mixing bowls.

  “Yeah, yeah. Watch it or I’ll take a dish towel to your butt.” There was no heat in it, and Galen moved right in beside him, saying, “I’ll take over, Cousin Hal. Thanks for all your help.”

  Oh, now this was nice. Easy. Good smelling. Man, Galen looked good in black—like better-than-average good.

  Something about the whole sleeves rolled up to dry dishes, muscles flexing in the forearms was the perfect look for his Len. It wasn’t until Galen nudged him that he realized he was just standing there, staring. And Momma was laughing still, moving around him, peeling this and popping more dishes in the sink. She did know how he needed Galen, she really did. She seemed to like him all the more for it.

  Which was good, because if it pissed her off? They’d be fucked.

  Not only that, he wouldn’t have Goob.

  “So what time is supper, Momma?” Galen asked, bumping hips with him in a totally different way than Momma had.

  “Not until late, as we have to wait on Aunt Louise. About three. Why don’t you boys go play? And by that I mean football or something,” she added, eyes twinkling. He grinned, felt his cheeks go hot. Somehow he thought their brand of tackling might be a bit… graphic and naked for Momma.

  “Oh, I bet we could get Dale and Don out for a quick touch game.” Grabbing his arm, Galen started pulling him out of the kitchen. “When she lets us out of dishes, we go. ’Kay?”

  “Okay….” He grinned, following along, shaking his head. “Who all’s coming for supper? Lunch? Whatever?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Sounds like most all of the local cousins and all. Maybe forty or so people.” Well, Galen sounded like that was normal. Nothing to panic over. Nope. Damn. And also sort of wow.

  “Cool. You got a lot of family.”

  “Well, Momma does. I just sort of tag along.” He got a wink, a pat on the ass before Galen was waving at the two tall ones. “Y’all wanna play some football?”

  “Hell, yeah. Come on, man. Let’s go.”

  Shane chuckled as one of them hooted, bounced up. “Skins or shirts?”

  They bundled him outside, arguing over something or other, and before Shane knew it, there were six more burly guys out there with them, all sorting into two teams. Luckily Galen claimed him for his team.

  He leaned over, whispered into Galen’s ear, “Man, we ought to be shirts, yeah? I got my rings.”

  Somehow he thought that would be sorta bad, not to mention hard as fuck to explain.

  “Yeah, okay.” He knew that look. That one. With the holes-in-a-blanket eyes. Ka-ching. He definitely needed his shirt now. “No, Dale. I call shirts, I told you. I’m the one drove from the Keys.”

  That was right. Hell, Galen looked at him like that again, he’d have to untuck his shirt to hide what was peeking.

  “You just don’t want us all to be stunned by your hairy-assed chest, Frosty.” Man, that Dale guy best watch himself. Galen tackled hard.

  “Nope. Just don’t want to scare you with my muscles.” Flexing, Galen grinned, then grabbed the ball. “We won the toss. Come on.”

  He got the ball, bent over, Galen’s hands right there near his ass, waiting for the ball. Man. Man, football was a sexy fucking game.

  Galen called the play, giving him his “Hike!” Then he got to rumble with Galen’s cousins, and oh… oh, he couldn’t remember ever seeing Galen look like that.

  The game got a little more intense, each play feeling hotter, more focused. Goddamn. Just. Goddamn.

  Watching Galen take down Dale… Dan… Don. Something. Watching that smooth leap and tackle? Wow. Hot. Hot, hot, hot.

  Of course, he also got the added bonus of Galen growls when two hundred and eighty thousand pounds of Louisiana redneck tackled him and smooshed his ass. Lord.

  And also, oof.

  “No damaging him,” Galen hollered, hauling his… cousin? Something up off Shane, letting him breathe again. “Got it?”

  The guy nodded, grinning, gap-toothed and looking so happy Shane had to grin. “None? Man, he’s little. We could squash him!”

  Another one snorted. “Shit, he’s little, but he’s built like a brick shithouse, you see?”

  “All right, y’all. That’s enough.” One long arm wrapped around him, Galen pulling him close and sort of bristling. “Mine.”

  “Hoo-ee! Look at that! What would your momma say, you getting all bristly like a boar hog?”

  Shane chuckled, shook his head. Man, they hadn’t seen bristly yet. “Quit your jawing and grab the football. You spent more time playing, we wouldn’t be up by fourteen.”

  That got Shane a round of laughs, and everyone settled back into play. Shane had seen this in movies. It was like a redneck Norman Rockwell painting; it really was. He figured one of two things would happen—someone would send the turkey flying out Momma’s picture window or there would be a thing tonight involving beer, Christmas lights, and a plastic flamingo dressed like the baby Jesus.

  They finally got called in to help with supper just about the time two carloads of people showed up. Lord, it was like clown cars, maybe fifty little kids pouring out.

  It was easy, really, to go into work mode. He knew about crowds and dishes and getting people moving where they should be, and hell, the way some of them folks were drinking, he might as well be slinging suds. Momma was in her element too, kissing cheeks and patting heads and prying kids off Galen’s legs now and then. Len was surprisingly good with the little ones, though.

  And the food.

  Oh God.

  By the time everybody was settled—perched on every chair in the house, kids draped over every available surface, including Galen—Shane was feeling the urge to take a deep breath, wash his face. He wandered up to the little bathroom and sat a minute on the edge of the tub. Goob was right there, curled together on the little wee pile of dirty clothes they were needing to wash. “Happy Thanksgiving, Goober puppy. It’s something else, huh?”

  Goob’s shifted and snorted and sighed. Made him grin. Look at that beast. Shit.

  He had about ten minutes alone when a knock came on the door. “Shane? Darlin’? You okay?”

  “Yeah. Yeah. I’m fine.” He stood up, went right to the door, feeling sort of like a moron. “Just saying hi to t
he pup.”

  “It’s okay. I’m getting a little squirrely myself. I told Momma I needed a nap. She said she’d call me when it was time to see most everyone off.” Galen took his hand, pulled him right up for a kiss.

  Oh. Hey. He stepped in closer, hands sliding around Galen’s neck, holding on tight as Galen’s tongue thrust right in. That was what he wanted. Just that. Humming, Galen shoved him back into the bedroom, kicking the door closed behind them, hands hard on his hips. Warm, good, so strong, Galen loved all up on him.

  “Mmm… happy Thanksgiving.” He licked Galen’s grin, tongue sliding over those lips. “Gonna tackle me, redneck?”

  “I am. You’ve been so good, Shane. I’m proud of you. Time for your reward.” Oh, he liked the sound of that. Liked the feel of Galen rubbing against him better.

  He groaned, eyes rolling back into his head. Oh. Oh damn. He tilted his hips, let his cock rub against Galen just so. There was something to be said for the way they fit together.

  “Oh, darlin’. Love the way you fit,” Galen said, echoing his thoughts. See? They were amazing. Fucking amazing.

  “Yeah.” He leaned back, letting Galen hold his weight, support him. “It’s all good.”

  So much better than before.

  Galen bent and kissed his throat, his ear, lips warm and soft, the ridge of Galen’s teeth hard and good. It was impossible not to moan, lift his chin, and beg for more. God, he loved the family and food and ball and shit, but wasn’t any of it Galen.

  “Love.” Those hands lifted, cupped his ass, pulled him up so Galen could just…. Oh. There. Right there.

  “Uh-huh. Len.” His fingers got tangled in Galen’s hair, keeping that mouth on his skin.

  “Wanna. So wanna, darlin’.” Oh, man, even with everyone in the house… thank God their room was off by itself.

  “Door’s locked. I was good. Did dishes and everything.”

  “Good.” Lifting him, Galen carried him to the bed, the springs making a terrible squeal as they bounced down on the mattress. Galen just laughed, nibbling him, spreading his legs to rub between. He chuckled, leaned up to do some nibbling of his own, give back what Galen was giving.

  That got him a hum, a nice growly sound. Galen kissed him again, fucking his mouth with that hot tongue, taking his breath away. It got him to wrap around Galen, legs tugging Galen closer so their hips moved in time with that tongue.

  They rocked and rocked, that old bed hardly keeping up with them. That long body pressed him down into the mattress, Galen’s cock pressing against his pelvis.

  He struggled to get Galen’s jeans undone, get his own open. “Skin. Galen. Come on.”

  “Huh?” Black eyes looking drugged, but not in the bad way like Shane had been once, Galen looked at him, blinking, finally nodding. “Right.”

  Len reared up, flinging clothes off. Sexy fucker. His sexy fucker. He reached up, got hold of Galen’s nipples, and tugged.

  “Uhn. Shane. Darlin’.” Galen’s hips snapped forward, hard cock sticking out of his jeans. “More.”

  His lips opened and he nodded, tugging again, harder, wanting that prick so bad he could taste it.

  Galen groaned, struggling with Shane’s clothes too, getting his shirt up under his arms and his jeans open, those hands sliding over him. “What do you want, darlin’? Tell me.”

  “Fuck my mouth, Len. Hungry for you.” It was Thanksgiving after all, wasn’t it? Time to indulge.

  He got a look, those eyes on fire for him before Galen moved up to straddle his chest, cock at his lips. “You okay, darlin’? Is this okay?”

  “Uh-huh.” He lifted his head, mouth open, tongue sliding over the swollen tip of Len’s cock.

  “Oh fuck, Shane. Good.” Muscles bulged as Len arched back above him, hands on his thighs. God, he could see cock, abs, chest… yeah.

  It was possibly the hottest fucking thing he’d ever seen.

  Ever.

  Period.

  The taste of Galen slid over his tongue, hot, wet, and salty bitter. Cock slipping right in, Galen started moving, grunting a little. He started sucking good and hard, pulling that flesh in and in, running his tongue over the tip and pushing in. He knew how much Galen loved that, loved the way he tongued the slit in the tip. It made Len crazy, made him buck hard. He did it again and again, trying to drive Galen crazy, make his lover arch and groan.

  It worked. Len sat up again, hands on the headboard as he leaned in, fucking Shane’s mouth like crazy.

  Hell, yes.

  He didn’t even pay attention to his own cock, the way it leaked and ached. All he knew was that heat, driving into his lips, filling his mouth.

  “Come on, darlin’. Just like that. Fuck, you feel good….”

  That throaty growl told him Len was this close to losing it. So did the precome that slid down his tongue, wet and hot and so right. Just right. He pulled harder, demanding, fucking wanting it right now. Now. His.

  Galen came, whole body arching up and back, cock throbbing hard between Shane’s lips. Giving it all up, just like that. So fucking good. So hot. All his. Fuck. Fuck him, yes. He drank Galen down, humming around the flesh in his lips, purring.

  Galen let him have it all, then pulled free, sliding down his body to kiss his swollen mouth. “Want in me, darlin’?”

  Like he could find words to answer that question with. All he could do was nod and moan, cock slapping his belly. Galen reached for the ditty bag they’d left on the nightstand, then scooted up to straddle him again, this time his belly. Oh. Lube. And… yeah. Galen was gonna ride him. His eyes rolled, hips arching up. His cock slid along one of Galen’s asscheeks. Damn. “So hot. Fuck. Want you.”

  “Uh-huh. Yeah. Okay.” Panting, cheeks flushed above his little beard, Galen looked down at him and put one hand behind himself, getting himself ready. Jesus. Len didn’t do that often. Not nearly often as Shane wished.

  It was enough to make a man whimper, to make every muscle in his body tight and hard. He reached out, one hand sliding down Galen’s chest, petting him.

  “Feels… feels good, darlin’. Don’t stop.” He could feel Galen’s hand working, feel it rub against his prick as Galen’s fingers moved in and out.

  “Won’t. Damn. You…. You just.” He grinned, tugged Galen down for a kiss that said all the shit he didn’t have words for.

  “Mmm.” Galen hummed into the kiss, letting it stretch good and long before sitting up, pulling his cock into position. “Ready?”

  “Balls to bones.” His hands settled on Galen’s hips, mouth open as he watched.

  Galen nodded, face tight and intent as he rose up and then pushed down, taking Shane in smoothly, so hot inside that it burned.

  “Galen….” He arched up, eyes rolling in his head like dice, teeth just clicking together.

  “Shane. Oh God.” Len started moving on him, up and down, taking him in and out. Those heavy thighs bracketed his waist, squeezing.

  “Love.” He let his hands run over Galen’s thighs, hips, petting away, entire body thrumming, aching as they moved back and forth.

  “Uh-huh. Happy… happy Thanksgiving, darlin’. You did so good.” Galen loved on him too, stroking his chest, pulling his nipple rings.

  “I. Oh. Oh, sweet Lord.” His shoulders rolled up, left the mattress, hips moving faster and harder.

  “God, yeah.” He could see Galen’s cock rising again, hard and tight, bobbing in front of him. It made Len even tighter around him.

  Look at that. Just. Oh, he was the luckiest son of a bitch ever. He wrapped one hand around Galen’s cock, stroking in time, petting. That made Len’s muscles all bunch up again, the flush staining that tanned skin, the squeeze and release of Galen’s body maddening him.

  “Gonna.” Oh. Fuck. Gonna. Now. His head tossed and he panted, trying to hold on, to give Galen a good ride.

  “S’okay, darlin’. Wanna see. M’close.” Oh, his Len was a wonder, riding him like crazy, teeth caught on his lower lip, eyes heavy-lidded.

&nbs
p; Oh, thank God. He stopped worrying it, started humping up furiously, hips and hands moving together. It only took a few thrusts before he was shooting, filling Galen up as he fucking melted away.

  “Oh, oh fuck!” Shane opened his eyes, who knew how much longer later, just in time to see Galen shoot, great spurts that landed on his chest, his chin.

  He managed to lift his hand up, wipe his chin and suck his finger clean. Mmm. Galen. Damn.

  “Shane.” Collapsing down on him, Galen laughed, the sound husky and deep. “Been needing this since, oh, football.”

  “Uh-huh. I like that. Football. With you.” Right. Coherence. Go him.

  “Me too.” It didn’t seem to matter to Len. He nuzzled and kissed and all, loving on him.

  “Can we nap for real?” He was getting all baby-headed and dopey, sinking into the pillows with a happy sigh.

  “We can. Momma won’t expect us to say good-bye to anyone but, like, Doola. We’ll see them all again in smaller doses during the weekend, yeah?” Galen let him slip out, pushed to one side to curl around him, big and hot and sort of covering him.

  “Mmm-hmm. Yeah.” He kissed Galen’s jaw. “Happy turkey day, huh?”

  “Yeah, darlin’,” Galen agreed. “The happiest one of my life.”

  SHANE REMEMBERED his folks’ phone number, and Saturday morning after Thanksgiving, he dialed it and hung up the phone as soon as it rang.

  What was he doing? Shit. They didn’t want to talk to him. They hadn’t in a long, long time.

  Still.

  Seeing Galen’s momma and people made him think that maybe he should try. Just say hi and howdy. Say happy holidays.

  Say that he wasn’t a big loser like they’d thought, and he was good at running the bar, and he and Galen were like a thing and stuff. Just say that sometimes he missed having people around who remembered him from more than a couple years ago, people who could tell stories about when he was little.

  He picked up the phone one more time, looking around to make sure no one could hear, and dialed again.

  “Hello?”

  Oh. Mom. “Hey, Mom. It’s Shane. I wanted to….” He got about that far before he realized he was talking to himself, that she’d hung up. “Say happy Thanksgiving.” The last part he mumbled to himself, staring at the receiver.