by Faith Gibson
Bryan wished there was some way he could take away the pain Andy felt. Some way he could lessen the hurt from what his family had done to him. All he knew to do was be a good friend and offer a shoulder to lean on when Andy needed it. You could give him a blowjob. Bryan wouldn’t know where to begin. He’d only been on the receiving end of head a couple of times back in high school, and he’d seen it done in the Marines, but that was the extent of his expertise. There was no way he could go down on Andy and make him forget his troubles. No, all he could do was what he was already doing, which wasn’t much.
Taking a deep breath and adjusting his dick behind his jeans, Bryan pushed away from the door and went in search of the pint-sized smile that made him feel better.
Chapter Thirteen
Andy
As soon as he was outside the barn, Andy stopped and watched Mattie chasing the dogs and them her. What a joy that little girl was. She made Andy want kids someday. He already wanted that, but being around her was infectious. Her laugh was medicine to his heart. Where Suzette was putting stitches on the fractured organ, that little girl was an infusion of new blood of the purest kind. What if Bryan was right? Maybe if Andy sent a letter to his mother he could finally get some closure. As much as Patrick doing what he did hurt Andy’s pride as well as his body, his mother turning her back on him was the one thing he couldn’t let go of. Adding being a Marine for eight years and seeing the atrocities of the world on top of that, he should probably be in a mental hospital. Andy should at least have sought out psychiatric help when he returned from overseas.
Where Bryan’s PTSD was triggered by loud noises, Andy’s was more internal. Nightmares gripped him often. He’d suffered from them ever since he’d been thrown out of his home. Waking up screaming in the middle of the dessert wasn’t unheard of, but most chalked it up to their surroundings and what they were required to do and see. The panic attacks hadn’t started until after he’d come back home. Being alone with no friends to talk to other than the occasional hello to the neighbor across the hall in his apartment probably wasn’t smart on Andy’s part. He didn’t feel like introducing anyone to his brand of crazy. Then he met Bryan, who understood what Andy was going through.
When Moe trotted over to where Andy was standing, he bent down and ran his hand through the dog’s fur. A sense of peace washed over him, and the dog did nothing more than allow Andy to pet it. It was a win-win for them both, but in his heart, Andy knew he was getting more from it than Moe. Andy looked up when Matilda stepped right in front of him.
“Uncle Andy, is you okay?”
Uncle Andy. Pure blood. “I’m fine, sweetheart.”
“Is this a happy tear?” Matilda placed her little hand on his cheek, wiping away the wetness. Andy looked up to see if the adults noticed he was crying. Mal was staring at him intently, but Walt and Suzette were nowhere to be seen.
“Yes, sweetheart. You make me happy, and so does Moe.”
Andy felt the second Bryan walked up behind him. The man was lethally quiet. Andy had noticed that when they first met. Somehow, though, Andy knew when Bryan was near. As stupid as it sounded in his head, the air around him changed whenever Bryan was close. Not in a smothering way, but in a way that Andy wanted to breathe deeply and let the oxygen infuse his senses. Not only did Moe offer Andy a sense of peace, Bryan’s presence had the same calming effect. Most of the time, anyway. When he wasn’t giving Andy a hard-on.
“Can you handle supper?” Mal asked as he closed the distance. “I need to run Matilda home and stop off for a few things.”
“Sure. I saw stuff to make spaghetti. Is that okay?”
“Fine by me,” Mal said. “You ready to go, Munchkin?”
“I wants spaghetti,” she answered instead.
“Maybe next time. Gramma’s got some stuff she needs to take care of.”
Andy had to bite his lip to keep from laughing at the pout on Mattie’s face. If it had been him, he’d have given in instantly. Maybe he shouldn’t have kids. He doubted he’d be able to tell them no.
“I’ll be back within an hour,” Mal said as he lifted Matilda into his arms. “Say bye.”
“Bye Uncle Andy. Bye Uncle Bryan.”
Andy and Bryan both said goodbye. While Mal put his niece in the truck, Andy asked Bryan, “Want to help me cook supper?”
Bryan frowned then shrugged his shoulders. “I’ll do what I can.”
Once inside, Andy dug around in the pantry for the noodles and sauce. It was too late to make homemade sauce, so he’d have to make do with store-bought. He took a pack of meat out of the fridge along with some veggies he found in a chiller drawer. After washing their hands, Andy asked Bryan to wash and cut the peppers and onion.
“Thanks, Lily. I love getting the stinky job,” Bryan grumbled.
“Then I’ll cut the vegetables, and you can take care of the meat.” Andy took the knife away from Bryan who stared at the meat like it was going to bite him. “Dump the hamburger into the skillet. Turn the eye on medium and stir it until it’s brown.”
Andy didn’t mind cutting the vegetables. It was much less mundane than watching the ground chuck brown in a skillet. He kept his eye on Bryan, making sure he cooked the hamburger evenly. Once the veggies were chopped, he dumped them on top of the meat and told Bryan to stir. Andy washed his hands again and leaned against the counter next to where Bryan was standing. “Thank you.”
“For what?” Bryan asked, keeping his eyes on his task. Andy had to smile at the concentration on Bryan’s face.
“For letting me vent earlier.”
“Well, it was kind of my fault. I brought up the subject of servants.” Bryan looked at him then, and the regret was there in his eyes.
“No. This shit’s been festering for a long time. It’s something that’s always at the back of my mind, so don’t think you were the cause of it. It felt good having someone listen. Thank you for being my friend.”
Bryan’s frown deepened. “That I am,” he muttered before turning back to the meat.
“We need to drain the grease off.” Andy took the skillet from Bryan and showed him how to drain the meat into a bowl. When he put the skillet back on the stove, Andy took over. He added the sauce from the jar, but he also added extra spices he’d found in one of the cabinets. “This needs to simmer, and the veggies need to cook down some more. We’ll wait until Mal gets back to put the noodles on.” Andy put the lid on the skillet, turned the heat down, and washed his hands again.
“Can I ask you something personal?”
Andy hated that question. It usually never turned out to be something he wanted to talk about whenever someone wanted to get personal, but this was Bryan. If they were going to live together for the unforeseeable future, they needed to know more about each other.
“Sure.”
“Why do you wash your hands so much?”
Okay, that was an easy one. “To keep from getting sick. Francine taught me when I was little to always keep my hands clean so the germs wouldn’t stick. I think it was her way of making sure I didn’t mess things up around the house, but I hated being sick when I was a kid. I was not a good patient when they’d try to pour that crappy tasting medicine down my throat. My parents got tired of the incessant whining but didn’t offer up any solutions. Francine had the patience of a saint when it came to me. Not only was she our cook, but she was more of a mother to me than Hilary ever thought of being. When I complained about having to stay inside when I was running a fever, she explained that I had too many germs on my hands, and if I would keep them washed, the germs couldn’t stick to them, thus I wouldn’t have to be stuck inside. From then on, I washed my hands almost to compulsion.”
“Does it work? The not getting sick part?”
“It seems to. I’ve had a few colds over the years, but nothing like what I had back then. It could be psychological, but it doesn’t hurt anything, that’s for sure. Tell me something about you I don’t know.” Andy went to the fridge and pulled out
a beer. He held it up to Bryan who nodded.
As Andy twisted the cap off his longneck, Bryan took a long pull off his and swallowed it down. Wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, he said, “Well, let’s see. When I was younger, I wanted to be a boxer. My dad often fought at one of the local gyms for money. From what my mom told me, he was pretty good at it. I never got to watch him in action, but he would come home all jazzed up from the fight, and he would show me some moves. I was only five at the time, but the bug stuck with me. Since he went to jail, I never got the chance to learn how to fight properly, but it didn’t stop me from taking swings at punks.”
“I did a little boxing in my time,” Walt said from the doorway. Andy had been so caught up in listening to Bryan, he hadn’t realized the man was in the house, much less the same room. “One of the guys I went to basic with wanted to be a professional boxer. James was his name. He was good, too, but due to every male in his family being in the Army, he agreed to do four years. While he was in, he learned about the Army Boxing Program. He could serve his country and still follow his passion. Before he started entering matches and winning, I sparred with him as often as I could.”
“What happened to him?” Bryan asked.
“James went on to win the gold against the other military branches. He also fought in the Olympics one year. He had a great career going when he got out of the Army. He sent me letters and newspaper clippings when he had big time fights. After a while, the letters stopped coming. By that time, I was back home working the farm. At first, I thought he’d either stopped fighting or didn’t give two shits about a farmer he used to know. Then one day I got a call from his mother letting me know he’d passed. Heart attack, if you can believe that. Anyway, I need to get these boxes to the truck. I’m sure Suzette’s wondering what’s keeping me.”
It wasn’t until Walt mentioned boxes that Andy noticed the stack in the hallway. “You want some help?”
“I wouldn’t turn it down,” Walt said with a grin.
Andy stirred the sauce before going to help Bryan and Walt.
“Suzette’s moving in with me now that you two are here to look after Mal. That woman’s done a fine job taking care of that boy and this place ever since…” Walt’s voice trailed off.
“Suzette’s a wonderful mother. Mal sure is lucky to have her,” Bryan said.
“So am I,” Walt added. The love was evident in the older man’s voice. Walt and Suzette weren’t old, but they had a few years on Andy’s parents, so he put them in their mid to late fifties. His parents had him before they turned twenty-one.
By the time Suzette had all the stuff she wanted to take with her packed up, Mal had returned from taking Matilda home and running his errands. Andy finished getting the spaghetti ready while Bryan buttered some bread and put it in the oven. The two of them worked like a well-oiled machine in the kitchen. Bryan might not be able to cook yet, but he was more than willing to do whatever Andy instructed. Once again, Walt and Suzette joined them for supper before heading home for the evening.
“I got you somethin’, Andy,” Mal said once the kitchen was cleaned up.
“A present, for moi?” Andy joked.
“I thought about what you said about the dogs.” Mal handed Andy a box. A lump formed in Andy’s throat when he realized it was a pet door. Mal was going to let the dogs come inside after all.
“Mal, I… Thank you,” Andy choked out.
“I thought we’d bring ‘em in for a trial run before cuttin’ a hole in the door. See if they’re gonna behave or tear the place apart. If they mind their manners, we can install this next week.”
Mal went to the back door. When he opened it, he called the dogs. At first, they stood there staring at him like he was crazy. Andy bent down and called Moe to him. The dog tentatively stepped into the kitchen like it was a trick. He walked with his tail between his legs until he reached Andy. When Andy gave him love and praised him for being a good boy, the dog relaxed. Curly had no trouble with coming inside. He bypassed the humans and began sniffing every inch of the floor.
“I do have some rules,” Mal said. “No feedin’ ‘em from the table, and no gettin’ on the furniture. If they start chewin’ shit up, they’re goin’ back out.”
“Agreed,” Andy said. “Thank you, Mal. I promise I’ll clean up after them.”
“I’m countin’ on it. I’ve got some stuff I want to get outta Ma’s room and put upstairs.”
“You want help?” Bryan asked.
“Nah, it’s not much. Since she’s movin’ in with Walt, if one of you wants to take her room, you can. Seein’ as it’s on the other side of the house, you’d have more privacy that way.”
Andy didn’t feel the need for privacy. It wasn’t like they were bringing dates home to fuck. Besides, he liked knowing Bryan was right across the hall. Andy hadn’t woken up screaming from a nightmare since he’d been there, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t. “Bryan can take it if he wants. I’m good where I am.”
“I’m good, too,” Bryan said.
“Well, if you change your mind, it’s there for the takin’.” Mal disappeared down the hallway, and Andy leaned against the counter while the dogs surveyed their new surroundings.
Bryan pulled a beer out of the fridge. “I’m gonna catch the last few innings of the game. You coming?”
Andy remembered the fun he’d had the night before, pretending his toy was Bryan. He’d sure been coming then. “Yeah, I’ll watch it with you.” He took the longneck from Bryan and waited for him to go into the living room first so he could adjust his dick without Bryan seeing. Andy sat on what was becoming his end of the couch and placed the throw pillow in his lap. Hopefully, Bryan wouldn’t think anything about it. Moe and Curly followed them and lay down on the floor at their feet. Andy twisted around so he was leaning against the arm. That way he could reach Moe’s head to pet him. Bryan mirrored Andy’s position, and before long, the four of them were enjoying the game.
When the game was over and it was time to go to bed, Andy thought it best to put the dogs back outside. They’d done well for their first few hours, but he didn’t want to wake up to piles of shit everywhere. He and Bryan herded them both out the back door and locked up. When they reached their bedrooms, Andy stopped and put his hand on Bryan’s arm. “Thanks again for earlier. Your friendship means a lot.” He removed his hand before Bryan got the wrong idea.
“You’re welcome, Lily. I appreciate you, too.”
Andy retreated to his room. He closed the door, but it popped back open. He really needed to fix that. Unlike the night before, Andy wasn’t in the mood to pull the toys out. As much enjoyment as he got out of them, trying to get them into the bathroom to clean them without anyone knowing what he was doing was a pain in the ass. Maybe he should take Suzette’s room. It had a bathroom attached, and then he wouldn’t have to worry about sneaking his toys around. When he thought of being that far away from Bryan, Andy decided he’d put up with trying to be discreet.
The next few days were pretty much all the same. The three men alternated cooking. On Bryan’s days, Andy helped out, instructing as much as possible and helping out when he needed to. With Walt taking lead, Andy and Bryan rode around checking on the cattle and the fencing while Mal worked on the barn and house. The barn only needed a couple of cosmetic fixes, but the house needed quite a bit of work. Walt was a pleasure to be around. Like Mal, he wasn’t bossy. He was quickly becoming a father figure, giving praise when they did something right and instruction when they were unsure. Andy knew he and Bryan both had fathers, but neither one of them were in the picture. While his father had been around when Andy was younger, Andy considered himself parentless. Hilary and Stanton Holcomb were dead to Andy as far as he was concerned.
When the mail arrived on Wednesday, Mal handed Andy and Bryan their first paychecks. “If you want to start gettin’ your money sent direct deposit, we’ll need to send the paperwork to Mr. Matheson. Normally we get paid on Fridays, but he though
t y’all might want an advance, in case there’s anything you need. Bryan, now you have a reason to stop off at the bank and check out Addison,” Mal said with a wink.
Andy held his breath, hoping Bryan had gotten over wanting to meet a nice girl. Over the last few nights, Mal retreated to his room or office after supper, leaving Andy and Bryan to fend for themselves. Instead of sitting outside enjoying a fire, they’d both relaxed on the couch watching baseball while the dogs continued to get accustomed to being inside. There had been no more gestures of comfort giving off the feeling of intimacy. Then again, Andy hadn’t needed comforting. Whatever vibes he’d gotten from Bryan when they first moved into Mal’s home were now distant memories. Maybe he’d imagined them. The heated looks he was sure Bryan was sending his way were gone. In their place were nothing more than quick glances. Bryan was still nice to him. If anything, he was nicer than he had been since they met. But nice did not equate to longing. If there had been something there, it had dissipated. Bryan’s next words solidified that notion.
“I’m looking forward to meeting her.”
“Good. If you want to go ahead and go on down there, I’d appreciate if you’d stop off at the store. I’ve made a list of things we need, and y’all can get whatever you want to cook, too.”
Andy was excited about branching out as far as the cooking went. He was not excited about Bryan meeting this Addison woman. If Mal thought she was pretty, Bryan would probably be ready to marry her and have babies with her next week. Mal gave Andy the list of groceries he wanted them to pick up and they headed out. Bryan hummed while heading to the truck, but Andy dragged his feet. Not literally. That would have been stupid. But he was in no hurry to watch Bryan flirt with someone else.
Their friendship was such that they didn’t need to talk non-stop. The sounds of country music filled the cab. Normally, Andy thought it was sweet that Bryan let him listen to what he wanted to on the radio whenever they were together. Now, it was pissing him off. He pushed the button that changed it over to the rock station Bryan preferred and sat back against the seat. Looking out the window, Andy did his best not to think of the nights he’d be left alone at the house while Bryan was out on his dates. He’d been pissy with Bryan when he was supposed to go with Laurel. He would have to tamp down his jealousy when Bryan started going out with someone who was actually a nice girl.
