Notches

by Mason McCloud

  NOTCHES

  By

  Mason McCloud

  This is a work of erotic fiction. All names and

  characters are a figment of the author’s

  imagination and any resemblance to actual

  persons, living or deceased, is coincidental.

  All of the characters featured in this

  work are over the age of 18 years old.

  © Mason McCloud 2016

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  No part of this work may be copied, reprinted

  or redistributed in any format,

  electronically or otherwise,

  without the advance permission of

  the author.

  To contact the author email:

  admin@zargodesign.com

  NOTCHES

  Notches in the bedpost, that’s all they were to him, Callum Brookes silently mused as he watched his flatmate devouring the neck of a ginger haired youth that barely looked old enough to be there.

  “Fancy sharing a taxi?” Tyler bellowed from behind him.

  Callum turned to give him a grin. “Of course,” he replied. “How was the muscle Mary?” Tyler had last been seen heading towards the toilets with a man who clearly spent too much time in the gym.

  Tyler rolled his eyes. “In a hurry, apparently,” he replied ruefully. “Where's Coop?”

  “Where do you think?” asked Callum, nodding over at where Cooper had that night’s conquest backed up against a wall, one hand delving down into his trousers as he kissed him.

  Tyler spared him a glance and then made a face. “One day they’ll arrest him for public indecency,” he laughed.

  **********

  The same ginger haired youth was sleeping on the sofa when Callum got up the next morning. Cooper never let the men he brought home stay in his room once he was finished with them. As per usual, Callum ignored him in favour of making tea and putting on some toast. He found strange men on the sofa more mornings than he didn't and, after the first couple of weeks of living with Cooper, he had learned to just put up with it. They never stayed around long in any case.

  There was movement from the bundle of blankets and the youth sat up slowly, rubbing his face.

  “Morning,” Callum said chirpily, and was rewarded with a shell-shocked gaze. Callum wondered just what it was that Cooper did that always made them look like that the next morning.

  “Any chance I could have one of those?” the youth asked in a rough voice, nodding at Callum's tea.

  By the time Cooper finally emerged they had made enough awkward small talk for Callum to find out that the redhead’s name was actually Blake and that he worked in customer interface, whatever that meant. Cooper made his usual dramatic entrance, his dressing gown only loosely fastened around his waist, and Blake instantly fell silent and stared at him.

  “Callum. Tea,” Cooper demanded, earning himself a scowl from his flatmate.

  “Try saying please,” he grunted.

  “It's too early for manners,” said Cooper, throwing himself down into a chair.

  “Good morning,” said Blake chirpily.

  Cooper glanced at him with a frown. “What are you still doing here?”

  “Cooper!” Callum rebuked, wishing he had stayed in bed for another couple of hours so that he could have avoided this part of the proceedings. Watching Cooper be horribly rude to men that he had been all over the night before never became any less painful.

  “Well, I…I…” Blake stammered, his eyes widening as he stared at Cooper. “I wondered if you'd like to go for a drink?”

  “Of course not,” Cooper replied blankly. “It’s far too early for that.”

  “No, I meant…” Blake countered, but it was too late. He had already lost whatever tiny fraction of attention that Cooper could be bothered to spare him.

  Cooper stood up. “I'm going to shower, Callum. Bring my tea to the bathroom when it's ready. And get rid of him, would you? He's cluttering the place up.” He swept out of the room in the direction of the bathroom. Callum glared after him and then turned to Blake, who looked crushed.

  “I'm sorry about that,” Callum said, trying to be gentle. “He's sort of an utter bastard, you see.”

  Blake glared at Callum. “He's not a bastard,” he retorted, pulling on his clothes with sharp, angry movements. “He's…he’s amazing. You're just too boring to understand him,” he added scathingly, before flouncing out of the flat, still fastening up his shirt as he went.

  **********

  “I just don't understand it,” Callum said to Tyler that evening as they sat in the pub, waiting for Cooper to finally turn up. “He uses them, then chucks them away, and is usually bloody rude to them in to the bargain, yet I'm always the one they end up hating. How does that even work?”

  Tyler shrugged vaguely. “It's the Cooper effect, isn't it?” he said. “He sleeps with everyone, well, every bloke who's even just a little bit gay, and he's always, always their best shag ever. It's hard for them to hate him when they're still under the influence of that, no matter how much of a twat he is.”

  “No one can be that good,” Callum protested.

  Tyler stared at him incredulously. “You mean, you haven't slept with him?”

  “You know I haven't,” said Callum, suppressing his disappointment at the reminder.

  Tyler shook his head. “I knew you weren't still shagging him. I mean, he only shags anyone once, anyway, but I didn't know you'd never.”

  Callum shrugged as nonchalantly as he could. “We're just friends,” he said, a phrase he had often repeated.

  “Well, yeah,” Tyler replied. “But Coop sleeps with everyone. Why do you think Rakim banned him from the corner shop? You must be the only man he knows who he hasn't had sex with.”

  “Rakim?” repeated Callum, raising his eyebrows. “Jesus, really? But he's straight…and married!”

  “Mostly straight,” corrected Tyler. “Not that it really matters where Coop is concerned, I mean…”

  “Wait,” Callum interrupted, his mind spinning away on a different track. “Are you trying to tell me that you’ve slept with him?”

  “Of course,” Tyler nodded. “A couple of years back, when we first met. In actual fact, it was how we met. I think he does it just to prove that he can.”

  “We do live together,” Callum replied weakly. “Maybe he just doesn't want to risk making things awkward.”

  “Maybe that’s it, yeah,” Tyler nodded, but the look on his face made it clear that he was as dubious about that as Callum was.

  Cooper swept in, briefly casting a gaze around the room before stalking over to their table. “There you are,” he said, as if they were ever anywhere else at that time on a Saturday evening. Saturdays were pretty routine. Meet in the pub, go on later to ‘Cascades’, and then dance like maniacs until Cooper worked out which of the men in the room he was going to seduce. “Ready to party?”

  Callum and Tyler exchanged long-suffering looks and downed the last of their pints before following the already departing Cooper out of the pub.

  **********

  Cooper grabbed Callum firmly by the arm. “Come on, time to dance,” he said determinedly, dragging the blond off without allowing him a chance to protest. Only when they were right in the centre of the dance floor, surrounded by gyrating, grinding bodies, did the larger man relinquish his grip. Callum gave in to the pulsating beat, letting his body instinctively move to the music and trying to turn off his awareness of the men around them. This was the real reason he followed Cooper out to the club every weekend. There was nothing like the feeling of being in the centre of a dance floor, adrenalin and music coursing through him, channelling his movements until there was nothing else to think or worry about. Nothing else, that is, apart from Cooper.<
br />
  Cooper danced like he did everything else; with poise, confidence and a self-assuredness that made most other men meek. Every move he made exuded pure sex. You couldn't watch Cooper dance and not immediately picture, sweaty, naked bodies writhing together in the throes of passion. Or, at least, Callum couldn't, and he was pretty sure from the reactions of those around them that he wasn't the only one. It would only be a matter of time before one of them caught Cooper's eye and he abandoned Callum but, until then, it was just the two of, dancing up a storm without a care in the world.

  ***********

  Sunday mornings were usually pretty dead around the flat. After a working week, and two nights out clubbing until the small hours, Callum felt justified in switching off his alarm clock and just letting himself sleep for as long as he could. A happy consequence of that was that whoever Cooper had brought home, fucked, and then kicked out of his room to sleep on the sofa the night before might have cleared off home but, when he emerged at a little after midday, he was surprised to find a stranger in the kitchen making coffee. Callum stared at him blankly for a moment, his brain still half asleep.

  “I can tell mornings aren't your speciality,” the stranger said in a lilting Irish accent, sounding far chirpier than Callum felt was decent at such an hour. “Or afternoons, for that matter,” he added, glancing down at his watch.

  Callum had a vague, drunken memory of having met him in the taxi home the night before, but he was damned if he could remember his name. He rarely bothered paying much attention to Cooper's shags.

  “It's been a long week,” he grunted curtly, heading for the kettle.

  “Of course it has,” the man replied, an irritating smirk settling onto his face. Callum purposefully ignored him in favour of making tea. As he filled the kettle, he glanced at Cooper's door, wondering if he should make some for him as well.

  “Oh, you won’t see him for a while,” the man said with a smug grin. “I think I rather wore him out.” He winked at Callum in a way that made him shudder.

  “Right,” said Callum. “No reason for you to hang around then, is there.”

  “I'm getting the distinct impression that you don't like me,” the man replied, sounding mildly amused. “He’s very good though, your friend, isn’t he?”

  “I wouldn't know, or care,” said Callum through gritted teeth.

  “Well, the first bit might be true,” the man laughed, “but I think we both know the second bit is a lie.”

  Callum glared at him and shrugged.

  “Oh, well,” the man continued, “as fascinating as this conversation is, I’ve got somewhere I need to be.” He placed a folded piece of paper down on the kitchen table and gave Callum another infuriating smile. “Tell Cooper he can call me any time if he wants a repeat performance.”

  With a cheery wave, he swept out of the flat before Callum could do more than gawp at him. Shaking his head, he picked up the paper and unfolded it.

  Fergus Maley. The best shag in town. 07655 487192

  After screwing the paper up in to a ball, he defiantly tossed it in to the kitchen bin. Cooper never gave a damn about any of his shags once they were done with so he wouldn't want it and, on top of that, Callum had no desires to ever see Fergus again.

  **********

  The following Friday, Cooper, Callum and Tyler stood leaning against the circle bar of ‘Cascades’, watching as Lewis, the barman, poured out their customary string of shots.

  “There's been a man asking about you,” he said in conspiratorial tones as he slid the small glasses across the counter.

  Cooper shrugged his shoulders. “Men are always asking about me,” he pointed out smugly.

  “This one has been in three times this week though,” Toby continued. “Asking all sorts of questions.”

  Cooper attempted to look mildly interested. “What did he look like?”

  “Jet black hair, Irish accent,” replied Toby. “Thinks he’s God's Gift.”

  “Must be that guy from last weekend,” Callum interjected. “The really creepy one.”

  Cooper frowned at him. “I don't remember him being particularly creepy,” he said.

  “Do you remember anything about him other than his cock and arse?” Callum sighed.

  Cooper thought for a moment. “Not really,” he admitted.

  “Exactly,” said Callum. “Trust me, I spoke to him the morning after. He was creepy.”

  “Definitely creepy,” Lewis agreed. “But sexy enough to get away with it.”

  Cooper glanced at him. “Noted,” he said. “Thanks for the intel.”

  All three of them downed two shots each and moved over to the balcony.

  “Just look,” Cooper sneered, gesturing down towards the dance floor. “Dull, all of them. There's no one here with even a hint of an interesting kink. It's all the same old tat.”

  “Oh come on, you don’t know that for sure,” Tyler declared, raising an eyebrow.

  Cooper gave him a disgusted look. “Of course I do,” Cooper replied, pointing at a man in a tight pair of jeans dancing maniacally. “He’s hung like a baby, but gives good head, and he,” he continued, pointing at a blond twink in an orange t-shirt, “likes to cry out ‘daddy’ in bed.”

  “Oh, you're just making this up,” said Tyler.

  Cooper seemed to take that as a challenge. “Absolutely not. That one there,” he declared, pointing to a tall black youth leaning against the lower bar, “goes all panicky if so much as a drop of cum gets on his precious skin whist his friend next to him would have it in his tea instead of milk if he could. It's just the same old faces and it's dull, dull, DULL!”

  Before Callum or Tyler could come up with anything by way of response, there was a smooth voice behind them. “How about we try and liven things up a bit then?”

  All three turned at the same moment and Callum let out a low groan when he saw Fergus Maley.

  Cooper gave the Irishman a disdainful look. “I've already had you,” he said dismissively.

  “Oh believe me, I do remember,” Fergus replied cheerfully. “And what a fun night it was too. I'm not just suggesting a rematch, though. I prefer to call it a challenge.”

  “What kind of challenge?” Cooper asked, singularly failing to disguise his interest.

  “A very simple one,” Fergus replied. “I bet I can persuade two men to suck my cock in the alley outside before you can.”

  “You wouldn’t stand a chance,” Cooper scoffed, “and anyway, what would the winner get? I can't think of anything I want from you that I haven’t already had.”

  “Well,” Fergus replied with a grin that said he knew he had Cooper hooked, “you'll get the satisfaction of having beaten me in front of your mates here and, as an added bonus, I'll even throw in a promise to never bother you again.”

  “And if you win?” Cooper asked.

  Fergus's smile grew broader. “Then you break your golden rule and spend the night with me.”

  “Utterly predictable,” Cooper sighed, rolling his eyes.

  “Maybe,” Fergus acknowledged, “but I can guarantee that the rest of the night wouldn’t be.”

  “That’s if you win,” Cooper reminded him.

  “You can't seriously be considering this?” Callum interjected. “It's a ridiculous idea!”

  “It's just a bet,” Cooper shrugged. “And it might be fun. Besides, you can't seriously imagine he'll win.”

  “Oh, I think you might be surprised,” said Fergus, smirking insufferably.

  Cooper looked him up and down disdainfully. “Surprised? I’d be absolutely amazed.”

  “Coop,” Tyler said uneasily. “Are you sure this is a good idea? Gambling with sex as the stakes is a bit…”

  “Oh, for God’s sake,” Cooper snapped. “You two are so boring?” He looked hard at Fergus. “You're on,” he grinned. “Starting now?”

  “Oh yes!” Fergus beamed before abruptly turning and striding across towards the staircase.

  “Cooper,” said Callu
m, reaching for his flatmate’s sleeve. “What…”

  “Later,” Cooper interrupted, shaking off his grip and disappearing after Fergus before he could say anything more.

  “Fucking hell,” Callum hissed.

  Tyler nodded. “Don’t worry, as arrogant as Cooper is, he's probably right. He'll win, and then that'll be the end of it.”

  “I hope you're right,” said Callum. “But I've got a really bad feeling about this.”