by L E Franks
“You’re starting with me now?” Carlo had swung around to glare at Ted, but the blond had his head down, long hair swinging forward to hide his expression as he worked the board.
“What?” he looked up at the glowering Italian, eyes wide and innocent.
“Get that shit off the table! I’ve told you a thousand times to keep it in the garage!”
Ted took on the adorable puppy dog look that made Joey want to bend over and beg the newcomer to stick anything in to give his stiff cock some relief.
“Come on C!” Ted begged.
“Now,” Carlo roared.
Ted stood up, gathering his supplies before disappearing through the garage door.
Carlo swung back around fixing his glare on Joey. “You need to remember who’s in charge, Joey. Don’t fuck this up because you’re thinking with your dick all the time—you have to think about what this means to Ted as well. He has to understand that as much as I hate it, we have responsibilities beyond these walls. This is the only place I have left—I bailed California for a reason. I’m walking a very fine line here, I just want to be left alone, and you causing problems just because you can’t see past a pretty face with a tight ass, will not fly. Not this time.”
Joey nodded, then picked up the list scanning it. “Phone? Is that what that was?” The smirk was back.
“Fucking Angelo…” was all he heard from the words Carlo muttered as he left the room.
Joey waited until Carlo was out of range before heading to the kitchen window to admire the view across the road, once more. He palmed his cock, rubbing himself through his shorts. He wanted that ass—bad. What Carlo didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.
≈ ≈ ≈ ≈
“Grady, grab the cooler, huh?” the words were muffled, filtering out from under the front seat of the Audi. Grady had to pull his own head out of the hatchback to catch Kevin’s mutterings.
“Lose somethin’?”
He waited for Kevin to respond, leaning against the sun-warmed metal, gazing at Kevin’s hips wagging back and forth, shoulders rotating to wedge his right arm even further under the driver’s seat. If this was the view Grady could expect down here, vacation was already a winner.
“Whuh? Fuck!” Kevin smacked his head on the steering wheel in his attempt to hear Grady, which was hilarity itself. Snickering he repeated himself, slowing his speech to the speed used on idiot tourists lost in New York.
“What. Did. You. Lose?”
Kevin sat back, resting in the driveway of his parent’s vacation condo. Fine gravel coated Kevin’s golden skin, bringing to mind the birdseed Grady’s own grandmother pressed into peanut butter smeared grapefruit rinds every winter, and reminding him that breakfast at the Waffle House in Florence was hours ago. The two Iced Cinnamon Praline Waffles he’d inhaled along with a rasher of bacon and an entire pot of mediocre coffee sent him jittering on his way back onto I-95. This must be the sugar crash Mom was always nagging him about he mused, rubbing circles into his abs.
“Jeez Grady, dick much?” Kevin whined.
Kevin had been sleeping since Florence. He’d successfully avoided the caffeine and the sugar laden food from the chain, sticking to the South’s version of a Denver omelet and a glass of milk. It made Grady wonder about him sometimes. The farther from home Kevin got, the more cautious he seemed to become—as if he expected his parents to jump out from behind a bush and catch him—at what he wasn’t exactly sure. Maybe Kevin’s dad almost walking in on them a few times had affected Kevin more than he thought it had. This trip had been Kevin’s idea—the condo on Hilton Head Island belonging to his folks, and the venue of many a spring vacation for Kevin’s family growing up. Grady was just happy to be included this time, though frankly he was surprised that it was just the two of them. Maybe because they were coming down after their first year at college when Kevin had made a point of saying he wanted to spend time together—alone. They’d not seen each other much, what with Kevin in school an hour south of him in Princeton.
Kevin had a wide group of friends back home, and though his parents were always polite, it was clear Grady wasn’t one of their favorites. Grady lived in a quiet, middle class neighborhood in Queens, choosing to commute to classes at Columbia instead of living in the city. His dad taught history at one of the better middle schools in Manhattan and his mom was a speech therapist under contract with NYC Administration for Children’s Services, but money was tight. Even though he’d received a scholarship to Columbia, there were still bills that took a huge bite out of his parents’ income, so he lived at home.
Kevin’s dad was a hedge fund manager, one with no sense of humor, as indicated by his reaction to Grady dragging Kevin along to sit in on the Occupy Wall Street protests a while back. Apparently Kev’s mom hadn’t worked a day in her life if her attitude towards the stories about layoffs in the Times was any indicator. But they loved Kevin something fierce so they tolerated Grady’s presence in their home and in their only child’s life; in return Grady tried to keep his impulses to annoy them under control and slip silently through their world.
Grady’d met Kevin his first day of prep school. By second period everyone knew he was under scholarship. By third, the other students no longer bothered to introduce themselves. By lunch he’d found himself blocked from sitting at two tables by kids smaller than himself. It was Kevin calling to him across the crowded cafeteria—rescuing his lunch and his entire high school career by waving him over to sit beside him. He was sunny and golden and Grady crushed hard. Eventually Kevin’s friends became his, but there was always the knowledge that he owed Kevin everything.
He spent the next four years being the perfect friend, trying to hide all the parts inside that might scare Kevin away. In college the stress of being “poor” lessened, but the strain of being away from Kevin grew. They were still friends, but living in separate cities, having different friends and hanging out at different hot spots wore on their friendship.
Kevin was back at it, digging under the seat, dumping a small collection of junk on the ground next to him. “Can’t find my sunglasses… and, oh hey! Score!” He held up his vintage Wayfarers in one hand and Grady’s wallet in the other. He dropped them on the driver’s seat and reached back under for a crumpled up McDonald’s bag, sniffing it briefly before letting it fall from his hand.
“When did we stop at McDonald’s?”
“Mm… Virginia maybe? Where were you?”
“Dunno. Napping I guess. Jeez you’re a slob… ever heard of throwing your trash out instead of stuffing it?” Kevin had pulled out a leather covered mini car trashcan from between the seats in the back and proceeded to stuff it to overflowing with the small pile of junk food wrappers. Grady was hypnotized as Kevin very carefully worked the world’s smallest trash bag from inside the little bin, pulling it over the top of a Tastee Freez cup before tying a precise square knot in the handles. In that moment he was reminded of his Great-Aunt Ella, the one with two cats and a floor sweeper fetish.
Grady rolled his eyes, “Really?!? I just figured you wanted me to, oh I don’t know… maybe not drive into oncoming traffic while I performed that particular yoga maneuver, you know the one—downward facing trash. You’re getting good at it by the way…”
“Ass.”
“Dick.”
“Fucktard.”
“Crap Grady, I just got this car—give me a break!” Tossing the bag on top of the cooler he sidled up to Grady, leaning into him as he reached around to slip the wallet into a back pocket of Grady’s shorts. “Please?” He whispered into Grady’s ear.
“Fine. It’s a sweet ride. I won’t litter. I’ll practice my yoga, pretend you’re not borderline OCD or were voted most unlikely to get laid this decade. Satisfied? Can I please have my ass back so you can give me the grand tour and show off all the things I’ve missed by growing up on the wrong side of the Queensboro Bridge?” Grady quirked an eyebrow in jest but was sure the humor never quite reached his eyes.
“
It was epic! I had to go out for my advanced tutoring, unlike some who had live in help to pass their SATs with a near perfect score. I can’t believe you’re rubbing my nose in my lousy childhood!” Kevin whined.
Grady smacked him on the chest, pushing him away with a real laugh. No, Kevin wasn’t the snob in this friendship. Truth told it was all Grady, looking for the hidden meanings, the false notes, and the subtle slights. In all the years they’d been friends, the hang-ups never came from Kevin. Kevin was true blue and Grady needed to shut the fuck up about it.
“Come on then, man of the people, grab a handle and let’s schlep this crap inside so we can hit the beach. I can’t wait to check out the view.”
Slipping his sunglasses on and laughing, Kevin slung an arm around Grady’s neck pulling his face in close, “Oh you are going to freakin’ love the scenery! The beach ain’t bad either.”
Simultaneously reaching for the cooler, they picked it up, moving in harmony once more.
CHAPTER THREE
Joey gunned the engine as they pulled into the parking lot, stopping at Joe’s for his favorite coffee. At least he hoped they had the Snickerdoodle flavored coffee, otherwise he’d spend the entire morning pissed. Watching The Twinks had helped some, but he really needed to calm down.
“Why are we stopping?”
“Coffee.”
“Damn, didn’t you just have a cup?”
“Carlo.”
Ted shot him a look and shrugged. He didn’t want to have to explain that Carlo had pissed him off so much that he needed a good brew to get motivated. Joe’s wasn’t busy and he had coffee in hand, a bagel for Ted and a muffin in a bag before Ted came inside from petting a dog. The dog was cute, but they were on a mission and Ted was taking his own sweet time.
“I got you some coffee too.”
“Thanks.” Ted’s sweet grin was reward enough. They got back in the car and headed up Pope to the Cross Island. Ted remained silent until they crossed the bridge and slid through the tollbooth.
“I like living here.”
Joey glanced at him and smiled, the warm coffee already mellowing him. “It’s nice.”
“No, I mean with you...and Carlo too.”
“Thanks.”
“Really, you’re nice to me and I like that.”
Joey didn’t know what to say. He liked Ted. The guy was sweet and loved to lay on the couch with him and just cuddle. The first time they met, Joey had been napping on the couch and Ted crawled behind Joey’s feet, curling into a ball and laying his head on Joey’s legs. He woke to a hellacious hard-on and the sweet sound of Ted softly snoring. They often napped in the same bed, or laying together on that same couch, cuddling close as they slept. “You’re easy to be nice to.” Joey had always wondered why Ted had come home with Carlo. It wasn’t like they were real lovers. Sure, they all did the circle jerk thing—well if they had a circle. Blow jobs were passed between Carlo and Ted like handshakes when the mood struck, but Ted wasn’t Carlo’s mate, that much was obvious since he didn’t seem to care whose bed Ted slept in.
They were almost through Bluffton the next time Ted spoke. “So do you think the shade would make us faster if we ran in the daylight?”
Joey squinted and cocked his head to the side. “What are you talking about?”
Ted shot him a look like he was an idiot and rolled his eyes. “You know, if we ran during the daylight and we ran here, would the extra weight from the sunlight be significantly less because of all the trees growing here than it was in California? When you think about it, the surface area of our wolf body really isn’t that big, but add in the fur and you increase our total surface area quite a bit—but would the increased surface area really make us weigh more—as a man, no way, but as a wolf, I question it. You know, though the weight of sunlight is only a billionth of a kilogram per square inch so I guess not, but with the way shadows are over here—you know because of all the trees—I was just wondering.”
Joey stuck his little finger in his ear, questioning if he’d heard Ted correctly. “You’re kidding me, right?”
“What?”
“You were actually thinking about that?”
“Well, really I started thinking about my weight and how it affects my speed. I’m at sea level over here like I was in California, but over there it’s different. It’s faster paced—life, not my run speed. But I’m at a lower latitude here—you know, closer to the equator, and that has an effect on gravity, but I’m not that much closer to the equator. Then there’s the sun issue, but we never run during daylight, so I guess it doesn’t matter—our surface area of course, not the sun. The sun always matters. Anyway, back to run speed—the beach is harder here, the sand-pack more solid during low tide but during high, it’s worse over here because it’s finer grain sand. Then there is the issue about the forest.”
Joey almost didn’t ask, but he couldn’t help himself. “The issue with the forest?”
“Yeah, you know, the forest is thick, which slows us down so any perceived increase from the weight of the sunlight in California would be reduced significantly by the branches and bushes in the way. All in all, I’m happy with my speed. We did get that deer the other night, that was nice.”
Joey didn’t know if he should laugh or cry. He thought he was the smart one and all the while Ted had been contemplating advanced mathematical calculations in his spare time. “Yeah, the deer was nice.”
“So, why doesn’t Carlo run with us?”
For a moment he wondered if he was going to get whiplash from the speed of conversation shifts. “He just doesn’t.”
“Come on, you know something. Really, Carlo used to run with me all the time in California so that crap that he likes to run alone isn’t true. There was this one time...”
Joey waited for Ted to finish his sentence but it didn’t look like Ted was going to say another word with his lips pressed tightly together. Joey blew out a breath, stalling until he took the exit for Highway 170. He debated telling Ted anything, but what the hell, it wouldn’t it hurt, he’d hear the gossip sooner or later. “Carlo and Angelo had a falling out.”
“Yeah, anyone could tell that by the way they communicate, or don’t communicate. Carlo told me a bit, but nothing big. The one time I heard them on the phone together, it was like two cats hissing and spitting.”
“Don’t ever let Carlo hear you compare him to a cat.”
Ted snorted and slapped Joey on the leg. He left his hand there, heating Joey’s body. Ted rarely walked past without hugging, touching or snuggling and he didn’t just do it with Joey, he cuddled Carlo too, which made Joey a bit curious at first. In the beginning, he’d wondered how close the pair were up until the time Ted came into his shower and started soaping up Joey’s back as if they’d done it a thousand times before. Then Ted noticed his hard-on and took care of it, gracing him with a quick kiss before swatting Joey on the ass and pushing him out of the shower.
“So really, why won’t he run?” Ted persisted.
“He’s different than when he was a kid. Back then we were inseparable, we ran together all the time and he never seemed to care that I was a couple of years younger than him. When Angelo left him in charge of the pack he changed. Anyone could see it was too much —first losing Angelo to the Marines, and then having that group of old jackals breathing down his neck second-guessing everything he did. Carlo finally got so fed up that he quit trying to please them. I’d gone to Boca to stay with my grandmother for a month that summer so I wasn’t there when that last week happened and it changed everything. By the time I came back it was all over and the aftermath was like a bomb had gone off.”
“How so?”
“The pall over the Pack House was so thick I thought someone had died. Later I learned that Carlo had been at one end of the house, Angelo at the other, both bellowing so loudly the windows rattled. The ugliness spread through the rest of the pack, leaving members pretty evenly divided between the two camps. Francesca was smug, Bella was un
bearable for weeks and poor Charles...he still looked upset when I came home. Carmine said Charles was disgusted by how it all went down. It was a dark time. All I know is I didn’t waste time hanging around the pack. Anyway, I couldn’t believe it when I found Angelo there and, Carlo gone without a word—our plans totally wrecked. He was going to go to school with me in Bluffton so he could still run the pack. I know that Elder Tabrizi had been against it but with Angelo still away there wasn’t much she could do about it. Angelo wouldn’t tell me what they said but I know he never would have left if I had been there. I called and left him messages begging him to come home. I was even prepared to move to California until the elders put a stop to it. I missed him so much. It was almost a year before Carlo would take my call. He refused to come home at all during the holidays, only heading to the island unannounced over the summer a few times. The minute Angelo caught wind of him being on the East Coast, he’d be gone again. I barely saw or spoke to him for four years.
