The Boys of Banana Court: Box Set

by Alex Carreras

  “Can you add that high, Josh?” Mitch said before chugging the rest of his beer. “Math was never your strong suit.”

  Josh pulled a face. “Funny man,” he shot at Mitch and turned to Brains. “And I intend on winning that amount back tonight and then some, so keep dealing the cards.”

  “Take pity on the fool,” Mitch said. “And remember, he’s responsible for half the rent for this place so don’t skin him too badly.”

  Brains winked and began dealing the cards.

  Walking into his bedroom, Mitch stripped, tossed his wet clothes into a basket sitting on the floor, then risked the short walk to the bathroom in the nude. Most of the men in the apartment had already seen him naked once or twice before so his lack of modesty would be understandable if he was spotted.

  Showering in seconds flat and eager to join the guys, Mitch toweled off, already feeling the effects of the quickly guzzled beer buzzing in his head. He was in the mood to party and in the mood to lick Austin up, down, around, and all over again. He gripped his hands together at his chest and looked upward, offering a silent prayer that the planets would align and that he would get lucky tonight.

  Please, oh please, oh please.

  The night progressed and so did the drinks, with Josh manning the blender as the tunes grew louder and the dancing cleared the room of the scant furniture. By this time, Mitch had passed buzzed, stumbled over tipsy, and landed face-first into all out drunk. He wanted to blame the lack of food in his stomach because he’d skipped dinner, but the true reason he was in such a sorry state was Austin still hadn’t shown his handsome face. Mitch even went so far as to sneak away from the party, press his ear to Austin’s door, and listen for any sounds of life in the darkened apartment, but he heard none. No signs of life. Nada.

  Mitch hated placing himself in this position. He felt nervous and vulnerable, and about an hour ago, anger started to creep up his back and set up house in his brain. Being drunk and angry was never a good combination. And being drunk and horny was even a worse one. Fuck the little tease, Mitch thought. If Austin didn’t want to hook up, then there were other guys, and that night there were many hanging around with that willing look in their eyes and bulges in their shorts. Mitch knew he could have his pick of any of them, but deep down he hungered only for Austin.

  “What’s up, buddy?” Brains sidled up and placed his hand on Mitch’s shoulder.

  “I’m … down.” Mitch paused and attempted to focus on his friend’s face. “And a little pissed.”

  “Pissed as in angry or as in drunk?”

  “Both,” Mitch slurred.

  “Let it go, bro. Let it go.” He slapped Mitch’s shoulder a few times hard, and then squeezed. “Don’t allow some guy to jerk you around. If he doesn’t want you, move on.” Brains’s gaze swept the room, packed to capacity with attractive men, some from IGNITE but mostly from Banana Court. “How about that one?” He indicated with his chin, squinting. “He’s freakin’ hot.” He squinted harder and craned his neck. “I think.”

  Mitch shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah, you’re right. He’s hot, but he’s a jerk. He goes to the gym. Sweats all over the equipment and never wipes up.”

  Both guys groaned and Brains stuck out his tongue. “That is so gross.” Brains wasted no time searching the room again. “How about him? Nice tats. Nice tits.”

  “And has chronic halitosis,” Mitch said. “He should be doing shots of Listerine instead of Jägermeister.”

  Brains dropped his previously perched hand from Mitch’s shoulder and slammed it down hard on the kitchen counter, the contact soundless over the loud music. “Dude, why are these nasty-ass dudes at your party?”

  “Josh invited them,” Mitch clarified. “You know him. Never met a stranger.”

  Brains nodded vigorously. “I love that, bro. He’s good people.”

  “I’m fucked, Brains.” Mitch pouted. “Truly.”

  Brains chuckled. “I’d say it was just the opposite.”

  Brains looked at the door, guys streaming in and out. He pointed. “How about that one? He’s tall, tanned, and damn, look at that head of blond hair. He’s a Nordic god.”

  Mitch was getting tired of this game, but he risked a look, mostly out of consideration for Brains’s noble efforts. He squinted and saw triple, which wasn’t so bad because it was three Austin’s he was now looking at walking directly for him.

  YES!

  “That’s the guy,” Mitch whispered. “The one I like.”

  “I can see why.” Brains’s mouth gaped open. “He’s perfection on legs. Two very well shaped legs.”

  “Go,” Mitch said, lips twisted to the side.

  “Go?”

  “Yes,” Mitch said. “Thanks for the kind words and all that but go. Three’s a crowd.”

  “No good deed, dude. No good deed.” Brains ducked behind a tall, muscled stud wearing a striped tank who was passing by. “Shield me, guy. I’m going in.” Brains winked and mouthed good luck at Mitch.

  Mitch tugged at his T-shirt and finger-combed his hair in a lame attempt to look sober. He tried to stand on his own but decided against it when the room began to spin, grasping the kitchen island with his hand for stability. He painted on his best smile and waited what felt like an eternity for Austin to finally reach him.

  “Hey,” Austin said, sounding relaxed and casual. “I wanted to get here earlier, but I had a client who needed some extra TLC, so it made me run late for everything else.”

  “No worries,” Mitch said, getting lost in Austin’s dreamy eyes. “The important thing is you made it.”

  “I didn’t think you’d miss me?”

  “Are you kidding?” Mitch realized he’d said that too loudly, not wanting to appear over anxious so he took it down a notch. “I mean, I asked you, didn’t I? I wanted you to be here.”

  Austin smiled. “So here I am.”

  “What do you want to drink? Josh is pouring piña coladas, and we are well stocked with Corona?”

  Austin nodded at Corona, and Mitch pulled one from the refrigerator. Austin drank, the sinewy muscles of his neck mesmerizing Mitch.

  Rolling his tongue back into his mouth, Mitch asked, “What else did you do today? That is, after the massage.”

  “I’m signing up for some classes this fall. I want to take my career further.”

  Mitch was confused. “In what direction?” he asked.

  “Physical therapy.”

  “I imagine that would be loads of science classes. Not my favorite.”

  “Mine either,” Austin shared. “I was never good at it before, but now that I have a clear idea of what I want to do, I feel that I’ll have more motivation than before.”

  “I wish that some of your motivation was contagious.”

  “Can’t see the forest for the trees?” Austin asked.

  “I can’t even see the trees.”

  “Are you studying anything? Not that you need to be. Not passing judgment.”

  “I’m taking classes at the community college too. I didn’t want to waste my parents’ money going away to some expensive school, so I decided to stay local.”

  “Most people don’t feel that way about their parents’ money.”

  “They work too hard for it, and besides, they are generous.” Mitch took a pull from his beer, which was quickly turning warm. “How was your first day at the gym?”

  “Good.” Austin stroked his index finger along the neck of his beer bottle, condensation moistening his hand. “For my first day, I was quite busy.”

  “Your good looks can’t hurt your business any.”

  “I’m sure it doesn’t, but I don’t think about how attractive or unattractive I am, or I try not to.”

  “Ha, take a look around. I wouldn’t think any less of you if you said you did. Being young and gay is not for sissies. It’s hard fucking work.”

  “Work you’re good at apparently.”

  “Do you like what you see?”

  “I like what
I see now, and I liked what I saw the other night in the pool.” Austin visibly swallowed, and he looked away before returning his gaze to Mitch. “You have a nice cock. Big. Thick.”

  “And right now, hard.” Mitch closed the short distance between them and rubbed his crotch against Austin’s, his lack of inhibition due to alcohol consumption making him stupidly daring.

  Austin pushed back, and a smile curved his sensual lips. “You are trouble, Mitch. Handsome trouble.”

  “Would you have it any other way?”

  Austin answered Mitch with a crushing kiss.

  The room began to spin as Brittany changed to Pitbull, the heated kiss and desperate searching hands elevating Mitch to heights of drunken passion he’d never experienced before. He was somewhat aware of the crush of people surrounding them, a moving mass of skin and flesh fueled with alcohol, but they faded completely from his consciousness as he felt Austin’s deft hands sliding down his abdomen. He took in a quick breath, taking in Austin’s sweet minty breath as Austin found Mitch’s cock and squeezed. Lust exploded in Mitch, reckless and urgent, as he arched himself deeper against Austin’s firm hold.

  “That is magic,” he managed through chews of Austin’s bottom lip. “Fucking magic.”

  “So are you, babe.” Austin applied more pressure and stroked along Mitch’s rock-hard shaft.

  Knees threatening to buckle, Mitch willed his feet to move toward the bedroom. “Let’s go,” he said before tearing himself away from the kiss.

  Still half groping and half kissing, Mitch and Austin managed to maneuver through the crowd, hearing a few catcalls along the way accompanied by fast gropes from horny revelers.

  Now behind the safety of Mitch’s bedroom door, Mitch peeled the shirt from Austin’s body, discarding it to the floor and adding to the pile of growing clothes. Mitch pulled Austin onto the bed.

  “Your body is incredible,” Mitch said, eyeing what he could between hard, fast kisses. “I’ve never seen a guy as sculpted as you.”

  “It takes willpower,” Austin said.

  Traveling southward, Mitch trailed kisses down Austin’s neck, licked across his collarbone, and on finding his distended right nipple, he lapped and chewed as Austin writhed under Mitch’s attention.

  “T–t–that feels so good,” Austin stammered. “My nipples are extremely sensitive.”

  Mitch made his way to the other nipple, biting harder. Mews and sighs fell from Austin’s lips, and he pressed his body into Mitch’s mouth. Austin’s nipples were soft but still firm, and the surrounding skin was smooth and creamy tasting. Blood rushing in his ears, Mitch continued down Austin’s defined abdomen, taking his time and paying extra attention to lick at the fine platinum trail running down the center of his stomach. He pulled the silky strands with his teeth, dampening them. Austin shuddered, and he filled his hands with Mitch’s hair, pulling gently.

  Massaging Austin’s cock through his shorts, Mitch’s heart thrummed with anticipation.

  This was it.

  Finally!

  He’d wanted to take Austin in his mouth from the second he’d laid eyes on the man standing in his doorway the first day he had moved in. Austin was special. Not only easy on the eyes, but he also appeared to be intelligent, driven, and in possession of a gentle spirit. Austin made Mitch want to try harder, to achieve more. He felt an overwhelming passion for Austin, but he also felt a profound connection, something he wasn’t used to with other guys.

  Reaching Austin’s waistband, Mitch unfastened the button and began lowering the zipper over the straining swell.

  “Hey!” Loud knocks at the door caused Austin to jump to a sitting position, ruining Mitch’s window of opportunity.

  Damn you, Josh!

  Mitch groaned. “What!” he yelled over his shoulder.

  The door opened, and Josh’s drunken face appeared, the permanent shit grin firmly in place. “Mucho problemo,” he slurred. “We’re out of rum and tequila.”

  Turning to sit up, Mitch glared. “Can’t you see I’m a little busy here?” he said through a firm jaw.

  Josh exploded with a quick laugh that filled the room. “Shoot, dude, I’m so sorry. My bad.”

  “Accepted,” Mitch shot back. “Now close the door when you leave.”

  Except he didn’t.

  Josh stepped into the room, blinking at Austin. “I know you,” he slurred, shaking a finger at Austin.

  Mitch cut in. “Of course you do. He lives here, across the way. Now go.”

  Josh kept walking until he was standing over the bed where Austin was sitting with a strange look on his face. Josh continued, “That’s not it. I know you from school. You’re Austin Grey. You were ahead of us by one year. Remember, Mitch?”

  Mitch looked at Austin and then to Mitch. “Dude, you’re messed up. I would’ve remembered Austin if he went to our school.”

  “But he didn’t look like … this.” Josh’s head turned to the side, and his facial muscles appeared overly relaxed. “He was…” he paused and blinked a few more times “…fat.”

  Mitch looked at Austin, really looked at Austin. And like a tsunami, it hit him. “You’re that Austin Grey?”

  Austin nodded, beads of sweat brimming on his broad forehead. “Yep, I’m that Austin Grey. Nice to see you guys again.”

  Chapter Six

  Mitch squinted into the dim of his bedroom. He looked around and ran his hand across his bed. Yep, he was alone. No Austin. He knew that he’d had too much to drink the previous night, but had he heard correctly? Was the attractive man that he’d had his hands all over and lips locked on the same guy from high school who wore gross baggy clothes and shuffled up and down the halls with his head turned downward, his narrow but still oddly beefy shoulders in a perpetual slump? Mitch scrubbed his hands over his face and buried the palms of his hands into his eye sockets, pressing away his headache.

  There is no fucking way possible.

  But the worst thing was the way Mitch had reacted.

  Mitch groaned and kicked the mattress, frustrated and angry with himself. Why did he have to say what he did? You’re that Austin Grey? How did he expect Austin to react? Did he expect him to just shrug it off and say, “Yep, I was that freak. The same freak you and your friends sneered at.” and resume putting his delicious tongue down Mitch’s throat?

  It’s not like Austin really registered on his scale, or any scale for that matter, back in high school. He was one year older, they had only one class together, and at the moment, Mitch wasn’t sure which class. Simply put, they had nothing in common. And judging by the flab that once hung over his now slim waist, it was obvious that Austin didn’t play sports.

  But the bigger question was, how in the holy hell could that guy turn into this guy?

  Austin was flawless in every way. His body was chiseled perfection, his face sculpted and pore-free. Everything about the man, from the thick, blond hair on his perfectly proportioned head down to his picturesque feet was the ultimate in devastatingly handsome. He was the light version of tall, dark, and handsome. So how did he do it? Mitch had witnessed firsthand what diet and exercise could achieve, but this was beyond going on the Atkins Diet for a month and doing thirty minutes of cardio three times a week. And if he hadn’t seen Austin up close and personal, Mitch would’ve guessed that Austin had some help along the way in the form of a plastic surgeon’s scalpel, but there were no telltale scars anywhere on his body, so Mitch ruled that out. Austin must’ve had the willpower of a god and the drive of one too. He was simply amazing.

  Throwing back the sheets, Mitch attempted to stand, choosing to ignore his ever- present morning wood, bigger and thicker and drippier due to thoughts of Austin—now, not then—rolling around in his head.

  Mitch’s stomach gurgled, an aching pit in need of sustenance. Snatching a rumpled tank top and khaki shorts off a nearby chair, Mitch dressed, stumbling a few times before finally pulling on his shorts. He felt the weight of his iPhone in his left front pocket. Pulling it
out, he read the time. 9:28. For an instant, he panicked, thinking he was going to be late for work, but remembered he was off today. God, he hated hangovers, but obviously, the love for good beer outweighed the aching head and queasy feeling he was experiencing at the moment.

  Walking out of his room, Mitch noticed Josh’s closed bedroom door. He wondered if he was alone or had hooked up. If he stuck around long enough, Mitch would be able to see firsthand if Josh had a serious case of beer goggles the night before or lucked out by landing a stellar fuck. Although interested, he’d care more about his best friend’s sexual escapades after scrambled eggs and toast paired with an hour or two of mind-numbing television. Did they have eggs? Mitch opened the door to the refrigerator and spotted a carton of eggs and a few pieces of bread wrapped tightly in its wrapper, lying on top of the carton. Score. He would’ve said it out loud if he thought he wouldn’t have vomited right where he stood. Finding butter in the door of the refrigerator, he removed the ingredients, praying he could muster enough strength to actually cook, but he knew he had to eat if he wanted to feel better. Which he did. Desperately.

  “Honey?” his mother’s voice called from outside. “Honey, are you in there?”

  Sarah Montgomery had always been an early riser, that day proving to be no exception. Mitch set everything down on the small kitchen island and took in a few deep breaths. If he couldn’t eat, at least some much-needed oxygen might help send him on the road to recovery. Highly doubtful but he had nothing to lose.

  “Honey, is that you? Are you okay? Who’s hyperventilating in there?” The questions came quickly and threatened to never stop.

  Before he became the laughing stock of Banana Count, Mitch darted to the door and yanked it open. “Mom.”

  Her wild eyes greeted him. “Are you becoming asthmatic?”

  “What are you doing here?” Mitch stepped aside to allow Sarah to enter.

  “If I waited for an invitation, I’d never see my little boy.”

  Before he could mutter a word, Sarah gave Mitch two wet kisses on each cheek. She lifted a recyclable grocery bag and shook it. I got your favorite ice cream, cookies, and that cereal you loved when you were a kid.”