by J P Sayle
The whispered words made Martin’s agony real. “Days you wouldn’t wake up. The things they said. The words. Christ, I spent so much time on Google trying to figure out what they meant.”
Brad watched as Martin sucked in a breath, his voice barely a whisper.
“Their meanings suck. But they scared the bejesus out of me, so I stopped looking.”
Wetness soaked Brad’s T-shirt as sobs wracked Martin’s body. Wire-taut muscles finally started to relax with each pass of Brad’s hands. “That’s it, baby. Let it out. I’m going to be fine. We’re going to be fine.” Brad blinked back his tears. Holding tight, he prayed he was telling the truth.
“I broke my promise to protect you.” Martin’s inconsolable grief filled the air as he voiced his biggest regret.
Fuck, is that what had been eating at him? Where had this come from? He didn’t blame him—his fucking father, on the other hand, had a lot to answer for—but right now, this had to stop.
He gripped Martin’s chin. “You listen to me. You are the reason I’m still alive. You couldn’t stop that maniac any more than the police could. He is fucking insane. But you, your voice, your face pulled me every step of the way. I knew you were there willing me. I don’t remember much but words ‘move’ repeated over and over, willing me on. I thought I was losing it, but it kept me going.” Brad paused when Martin’s eyes widened in shock.
Martin looked over his shoulder at Princess. Not fully understanding what was going on, Brad looked at Princess as well who sat as smug as you like. What the fuck was going on here? He looked back, but Martin avoided eye contact.
“Oh no, you don’t. What aren’t you telling me? No secrets, not now, not ever. Do you love me?”
Martin’s head almost appeared discombobulated, nodding crazily. Brad couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped. Well, that cleared that up.
“Then tell me what’s going on between you and Princess. What am I missing here?” Brad sat patiently through Martin’s stuttered explanation. Dumbfounded, yet strangely not disbelieving, Brad let his mind process what Martin was telling him. No wonder he’d been off. He was storing Brad’s living nightmares. Princess truly was his guardian. Holy cow!
Brad pulled Martin down, laying his brow against his, holding him. “Thank you. You saved me, both of you.” Gazing past Martin’s smiling eyes, he looked at Princess. Her delight made him smirk back.
“Nothing would have stopped me from getting back to you. I knew you would protect me. Don’t shake your head at me. You did, in the way that counts the most. You saved me long before then, and you continue to every day. You see, you looked beyond the scars, loving me regardless.”
Brad kissed Martin’s plump lips, teasing him with a gentle caress. Mischief sparked in the depths of his green eyes. “I don’t want you thinking you can get rid of me now, or I might just have to spank your bottom for a change.”
Martin’s laughter bloomed between them, lifting the mood. Light flooded the darkness that had lived inside Brad for too long. Love could battle anything if you truly believed you could have everything.
Princess
This waiting lark was a bunch of nonsense. Why did she have to hang on so long? The council still hadn’t decided her fate.
She was pleased she was getting to stay with Brad, but her role in Stuart’s life was about to change. He moved into Martin’s to cat-sit, as he called it, with Brad stuck in the hospital. Well, seriously, she’d had to look after him, show him the ropes on pet care. His current knowledge was abysmal at best, but they had somehow muddled through. Though how she had survived his constant whining about her sleeping on his bed and sneezing all bloody night she would never know. Who in God’s name was allergic to cats? Poppycock. Never had she heard the likes. Utter nonsense.
Her tight-lipped mother had hinted Stuart might be her next guardian role. However, the number of men he’d had frequent his bed over the last few weeks. Well, he didn’t seem to lack for male company, that was for sure. Though they never appeared to last more than one night. Hell, she was convinced at first he’d done it to stop her from coming into his room. But she had put the kibosh on that idea. Though she was sorry that poor little man fell on his arse trying to escape, after she had accidentally dug her claws in hard enough to draw blood.
Was it her fault that she’d mistaken him for Stuart? Still smarting, she huffed in exasperation. There was no need to lock her outside. That was just plain rude.
At least things were getting back to normal with Brad. Her mother’s chuckles had her hackles rising. She wished they’d hurry up; this waiting was making her antsy.
“All good things come to those who wait.” The words drifted lightly, teasing her.
Oh crap, what the hell did that mean? She hunched down, feeling put upon. “I was only helping. Look, see how happy they are. I helped achieve that.” Her gaze turned to watch Martin embrace Brad, their love sparking the air.
Yes, no matter the price, it was worth it.
Six months later
Brad shouted to Martin as he entered their house. “Have you finished moving those boxes from your old bedroom into the spare room? I don’t know what we are going to do with all this stuff. It’s a good thing that Stuart took most of your furniture when he bought your house.” Huffing with the excursion, Brad lowered the last box. Shit. He looked about.
Shit, what were they going to do with all this stuff?
“Did I hear my name yelled in vain?”
Brad watched as Stuart sauntered into the kitchen, his fixed smirk in place all ready to wind Martin up. Brad stepped forward quickly, pushing his hands up to stop him.
“Don’t you start winding him up. He is stressed enough without you adding to it.” Brad’s exasperation met Stuart’s sparkling devilment head on. “I mean it, Stuart. You don’t want me kicking your arse now, do you?”
Stuart’s baffled look had lips twitching.
“As if you could, squirt.”
As he was unable to resist the challenge, Brad’s small hands grappled with Stuart’s upper body. The loud thud had Martin running. Bursting into the kitchen, he stared bewilderedly at Stuart’s prone figure lying on the floor.
Brad stepped back, brushing his hands together. Looking down, he smirked at the now red-faced Stuart. “That’ll teach you.” Brad gave Martin a sly wink before he swaggered out the door.
Martin chuckled as he offered his hand to Stuart. Gingerly gaining his feet, Stuart rubbed his aching arse.
“I should have warned you, Stuart. He’s been practising his moves.” Martin couldn’t contain his glee at Brad flexing his newfound confidence. “Serves you right, especially as you only came to badger me.” Martin cast a quick glance at the door, feeling he was safe. “You need to be careful, or my kick-arse squirt will have your guts for garters.”
Their joint humour had them howling with laughter when words floated from upstairs.
“I’m not deaf, you know. Squirt indeed.”
Heavy steps had them both turning, ready to defend themselves.
“This seems to be the last of it.” Joe hesitated in the doorway, looking at the two laughing men. Their differences were striking, one dark, the other light, both gorgeous, but only one made Joe yearn. Avoiding looking at Stuart, he focused on Martin. He looked for him to tell him where to put the box.
Martin’s concern warred with the back-off signals he was currently getting from Joe. Leaving it, he pointed to the far counter. “Just plonk it over there. That would be great. We’ll figure it all out later after Sarah gets back with the pizza.”
Joe’s disinterested shrug had Martin aching to hug him. The haunted look and dark circles that hadn’t decreased in the last few weeks had his hopes dying that he was going to willingly share what was wrong. Thinking he’d just needed time, he’d hoped that he would eventually open up. But still, nothing. Sighing, he turned away, not wanting Joe to see how hurt he was feeling by the barriers between them.
Stuart felt the te
nsion strain the atmosphere the minute Joe arrived. Fidgeting with the open box of pans, he tried to look anywhere but at Joe.
Martin watched as the pair of them skirted about each other, avoiding eye contact. What the hell was going on between the two of them?
Joe avoided looking at either man, unable to answer Martin’s questioning stare. He could feel the hurt, but Joe knew he couldn’t explain without letting the cat out of the bag. Unable to settle his hands, he automatically started unpacking. The smell of wood mixed with dark spices grew stronger as Stuart’s arm brushed his. Tensing, he tried not to breathe too deeply. He was grateful his body pointed away from Stuart’s so he couldn’t see the effect he was having on him. Heat pulsed in places he wished it wouldn’t. His cock was what had gotten him into a mess in the first place. Though his body didn’t seem to care, it appeared to have locked onto the worst possible target, his landlord, Stuart.
Fuck, could this get any worse? Stuck in the same house, agreeing to stay before he knew Stuart had bought it. It was all a fucking mess.
Sarah’s shout at least gave him something else to focus on that wasn’t going to get him into trouble. Joe returned her warm smile, grabbing the bags she carried.
“I’m back. I hope someone has the wine chilled because I am parched.” Sailing in, all sunny smiles, she gratefully handed the bags to Joe, giving him a beaming smile. Sarah noticed the scowl Stuart gave her as she sat down, hiding her grin. Oh, this could be fun.
Stuart scowled, trying to hold on to his temper. Three weeks and all he got was a pinched expression from Joe, but the fucking little shit had no problem smiling at Sarah. His jealousy growing teeth snapped. Stuart was positive his gaydar was not wrong, but every overture to Joe was brushed aside. Insulted, he’d gone out trying to find a hookup, only to have dreamy chocolate eyes blowing his libido to bits. Disgusted with himself, he’d stopped trying. Now his balls were blue and ready to explode. One gorgeous smile, not even directed at him, and his body was acting like a pubescent teenager!
Growling under his breath, he grabbed the plates, needing a distraction. “We need to clear the table if we’re going to sit and eat.” His harshness had several pairs of eyes swivelling towards him. Stuart disregarded them. He took several breaths to see if that would settle his raging libido. At this rate, he wouldn’t be able to eat a bite.
Relieved when talk turned to work, he pretended he was listening and not watching Sarah paw all over Joe. His knuckles whitened as his jaw clenched. Catching Brad’s look of concern, he tried to smile. They had become friends, much to everyone’s shock, including his own. But what wasn’t to love about the quirky man?
Stuart watched Brad’s genuine humour glint out towards Princess as she sauntered towards him. He was thankful Joe would be looking after her when Martin and Brad went on holiday. There was no love lost between him and her. As far as he could see, she loved to hate him. She just couldn’t seem to understand he was highly allergic and did not need her lying all over his stuff, spreading cat hair. He was all but convinced she was doing it on purpose.
She jumped up, staring at him as she nestled into Joe’s lap. Envy had him sneering at eyes far too human for a cat. There was something very odd about that cat. Something set off his alarm bells, but what, he hadn’t quite pinpointed yet. He would. Researching into Manx cats, he had found a ton of stuff out there. It was hard slog going through it, but he was positive that he would find all the answers. Dragged from his thought, Stuart appeared to have missed the action at the table.
“It appears we’ve outstayed our welcome.” Sarah’s chortled words had Brad’s cheeks heating, hiding his embarrassment in Martin’s neck.
Laughter erupted around the table.
“It’s a bit late to be hiding, baby, since you have been humping my leg for the last five minutes.”
Brad peeked out, humour dancing across his face. He smacked his mouth against Martin’s for a brief kiss. “But you’re just so hard to resist.” Brad thrust his hips, grinding down to prove his point.
Exhaling, Martin pointed to the door, “Out. All of you. Now get out.”
Chairs clattered, laughter died away behind the front door slamming shut. Brad couldn’t stop the giggle of delight. “That cleared the room.” Brad pushed down against the hardness under him, panting. He groaned as he sunk his teeth in Martin’s top lip, biting down hard. Tongues clashed, sparring, the after-effects of the pizza heating their mouths.
Martin delved deeper, seeking the ripe undercurrent of cherry. His happiness overwhelmed him as pleasure sizzled, driving his lust to the breaking point. Martin sat back, needing a second before he lost control. His insides jittered with nerves, and he did not want Brad to side-track him. Nervously, he plucked at the loose thread of Brad’s old T-shirt, thinking about what he was going to say.
He swallowed past the large boulder that now appeared to be sitting in his chest. He felt his palms sweat when Brad drew his gaze. Brad’s concerned expression had him rushing to allay his fears. “It’s okay. I just have a few things I need to say.” Licking his now dry lips, he brushed the hair out of his eyes. Where were the words he’d been practicing for weeks? Lips puffed out in frustration. This was so much harder than doing it to a mirror.
Tugging Brad’s tortured lip out of his teeth, Martin took a breath. “I love you so much.”
Martin choked back the sudden sob that came from nowhere. Holding Brad’s hands tight, He looked him directly in the eyes. “You are everything to me. This, for me, is a dream come true.” His eyes flicked around the room, taking in everything. “You are all my dreams come true. I never knew what I was missing till you came along.”
He swallowed, his pulse going crazy, as if knowing what was coming. “But now that I have you, I want this to last forever, be forever.” Clumsy fingers pulled the box out of his pocket. Brad’s eyes glistened, joy emanated, filling Martin’s heart.
“Would you marry me, be my one and only?”
Brad grabbed for the ring, letting the box thud to the floor. He laughed at his antics as Brad’s hand floated under his nose.
“Oh look how it sparkles. What do the words mean?” Brad peered down, frowning. His eyes crossed as he tried to read the inscription.
“Love with no end. It’s written in Manx.”
Tears shimmered in Brad’s eyes as he looked up. “Oh, that’s perfect.”
Dual soppy expressions smiled at each other. Mouths met, making the world faded. Lost in the moment, neither noticed Princess sigh. Yes, everything was purrfect.
Princess
Princess watched for a minute more. Table gymnastics were not her favourite sport. Had they forgotten they eat off that table? Worse. Guests ate off that table. She shuddered. Humans were funny creatures.
They would be leaving her for a month with Stuart and Joe. She was grateful she had Joe as a buffer between her and Stuart. That man didn’t have a sense of humour. Stuart was going to be in for a shock because his shenanigans were about to come to an abrupt stop.
Joe was his intended whether he was ready or not. Their chemistry was combustible, but Joe was no pushover. She had a feeling this was going to be so much fun. Though there might be a few issues to combat.
Joe had let her in easily. It was everyone else he seemed to shy away from, even Martin. Something was troubling him, but as of yet, she hadn’t got it out of him. She flexed her paws. She’d just have to work harder.
She was pleased that Joe and Stuart seemed to be the only price she’d paid for her transgression. Though there had been whispers of more to come. Racking her brain, she had no idea what it could be.
The concern lingered when her mother had talked about her finding a partner. What would she need one of them for? She was quite happy with the way things were and had been for the last three hundred years. Why would you change something that worked? Nope. She shook her head. It was so not happening in her lifetime.
She stalked back to Joe and Stuart. Maybe she could wind up Stuart
a little more. She’d barely had a chance today. She stopped mid-step, her hackles rising. Turning, she caught a glint of green and blue. There were no cats with bicoloured eyes in the village. Must be something catching the light, glass maybe. With swaying hips, she headed for the new cat flap Joe had inserted for her. Lost in thought, she missed the movement behind her.
Maximillian
Maximillianlian sneered. That was supposed to be his perfect match. How she was tiny. He’d eaten mice bigger than her. He’d crush her for God’s sake. He was three times her size. White fur shimmered under the moonlight. He growled as tiny hips enticed.
He muttered to himself. This was going to be a total fuckup. He could see it already; meddling parents needed to back the fuck off. He was not in the least bit gratified that at least a part of him was interested. He searched the street for his new home, the darkened house foreboding.
He could feel the previous owner’s evil smear. It all but reeked of hate. Sniffing, he knew he would need to cleanse it before they moved in. He wouldn’t be able to tolerate it otherwise.
He was grateful for the several weeks reprieve he’d have before they moved. Displeasure had him huffing as he returned to his body when Aaden called to him. He had time enough to think about his predicament, he hoped!
The End.
Why did his new housemate make him want to break the promise he made to himself? A man who has learnt to face his own demons. Could Stuart help Joe face his and survive to meet their destiny?
Joe King travels to the Isle of Man to stay with his best friend: in need of a place to mentally and physically recharge. A wrong choice blinds Joe to the possibilities of destiny.
Until fate steps in with Stuart.
