by J P Sayle
One baby too many
Brad
16th December
Brad stirred in the darkened room. The large warm expanse of naked, tattooed flesh moved under his body. Hot breath ghosted his ear with each exhale.
He wanted to grumble about the fact that he hadn’t slept for shit. His mood was all over the place, and he couldn’t focus on anything important other than what Greg had told them on Thursday.
Two whole fucking days, and it was all he could concentrate on. The Toxteth riots of the eighties were more controlled than his rampaging mind. He’d barely managed to keep silent, and the guilt was eating him alive.
He’d also noticed Max’s absence. Yet again, the little bugger had gone AWOL.
He worried his lip, chewing it raw, while his overactive imagination thought the worst. He was convinced Max was right this minute cozying up with the wicked witch, from wherever she came from.
Or was that wicked bitch of the west? I sure as hell think so.
Brad huffed silently, trying not to wake Martin. He knew he was worried about him. His tossing and turning last night had Martin finally settle him on his bare chest. A position he normally found never failed to make him feel happy and contented. Not last night. No, not with the full-on shit storm Greg had created in his happy new life.
No, no, it isn’t Greg. It’s bloody witchy poo and Max.
He had to keep reminding himself, which was only about a dozen times every minute, or that’s what it felt like.
The thing was, it wasn’t just the stuff about Max and witchy poo. No, it was that Max could telepathically speak to Aaden and Greg. That had really got his goat.
Why the heck wasn’t I given that gift? That’s what I’d like to know.
He glared at Martin’s bare chest as his fingers fidgeted with Martin’s gold nipple piercing. The naked body he was sprawled on shifted. Brad felt his lips lift at a certain interested party that was trying to literally muscle its way between his legs.
“You’re thinking far too hard for a Saturday morning, and I have something equally as hard you might be more interested in.”
As Martin’s voice vibrated up the side of his face, he lifted his head and aimed a smile at Martin’s heavy-lidded azure gaze.
“Sorry, I got a lot on my mind this mo—” His words died as he was flipped onto his back. Brad could barely take a breath before his mouth was claimed in a scorching hot, wet kiss. Brad felt his brain leak out of his ears as his mind shut down. His cock surged with life, leaking between them. The warmth that always accompanied Martin’s touch filled Brad. All his worries slipped away under the blanket of contentment and the lust Martin’s touch never failed to kindle.
“Well, shall we see if we can give that mind of yours something else to think about?”
No sooner had Martin spoken than Brad heard the front doorbell chime. Martin’s loud groan in his ear had a chuckle escape as he wiggled out from under Martin’s aroused body. He gave a little shake of his bare arse as he jumped off the bed, pulling on the first pair of pants he could find, along with a T-shirt. He strode to the door in seconds, stopping for a minute when Martin shouted from the bed.
“Tell whoever it is to bugger off, that I’m about two minutes away from ravaging your arse.”
The husky growl as Martin gave Brad a sultry smile had him rushing out the door. He wanted every part of that promise he could see on Martin’s face. He pushed at his cock, trying to hide his arousal in his loose sweatpants as he opened the door.
The three smiling, pink-cheeked men gave him no chance to speak as they pushed past him.
Joe’s cold white breath skimmed his face. “Come on, Brad, it’s perishing out here. What were you doing? Did you forget we’d agreed to go shopping this morning? You’re not even ready.”
Joe’s accusation made him hunch.
How the hell did I forget?
Brad slapped his forehead, shivering under the blast of cold air. He shut out the icy draft. He turned and gave all three men an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I slept for shit. It won’t take me five minutes to shower and get sorted. You lot go make yourselves some coffee or grab a Pepsi. There are muffins in the cake tin.” He’d no sooner got the words out than all three men ran into the house, towards the kitchen.
Brad watched in bemusement before turning his attention to the stairs.
His shoulders drooped at the fight he’d have on his hands to stop Martin from fulfilling his promise. Brad ran quietly up the stairs, giving the spare bathroom door his consideration. His hands twitched over the handle. Not overthinking, he stepped in, locked the door, and started the shower.
He was halfway through when he heard Martin hammering on the door.
“Hey, what the hell are you playing at? What happened to my morning of ravaging your arse?”
Shouting from downstairs drowned out the rest of Martin’s angry rant. The mumblings he could hear had him hurry. He dried off, unlocking the door. He ran quickly to the bedroom, letting out a loud exhale when he saw it was empty. He grabbed clean underwear and dressed in pale blue jeans, a thermal T-shirt, and a grey cashmere jumper. He dragged his Vans out of the wardrobe and looked out the window at the heavy dark sky. He put them back and grabbed his black leather boots instead.
He picked up his dirty washing, tidying as he went. As he went downstairs, he stopped in the kitchen doorway, clutching the washing. Martin stood with his back to him in low-slung jeans. His naked back glowed with a multitude of colours from the twinkling Christmas lights he’d strung around the kitchen yesterday.
He realised one of the guys must have turned them on, and Brad had a moment to wonder if Martin would walk around naked in the kitchen later on. He could imagine all those little colourful lights reflecting off his hard, naked body. He quickly shut the thought down when his cock tried to jump on board.
He gripped the washing tighter when Martin turned and spotted him in the doorway. Brad wanted to groan, strip, and lay himself on the kitchen table. In that order, when the passion in Martin’s eyes had his arse heat. The silent threat weakened his legs. He forced himself to walk towards the washing machine as Martin spoke.
“I think you forgot to mention you had plans today, baby, that didn’t involve me.” The husky growl and one arched eyebrow had Brad shiver.
He dumped the washing into the machine, quick smart.
Going to Martin, he climbed up. He laid his lips against Martin’s bristly cheek and whispered in his ear, “I’ll make it up to you later. I was just thinking about you in here all naked with me on the kitchen table. I’m sure we could work from there.” Brad let his lips trail across Martin’s cheek to his mouth, nibbling on his plump lower lip before chewing it. The soft, breathy moan and hip roll had Brad clambering for more.
He wanted to shout in despair when voices behind him filtered past his lust.
“Oh, good God, boys, if that was Brad whispering, then he needs to learn to be quieter. I think it’s going to take all of us to separate them. You, Greg, grab his legs, Joe, you get his arms, and I’ll hold Martin. I think we might manage to pry them apart before it goes too far.”
Nick was interrupted by Joe.
“No, let them have at it. I’m sure I could use my phone to film it. I’m positive it’ll be well worth a watch or two, maybe.”
Joe’s laughing giggles seemed to set off Greg, who burst out laughing.
Brad could feel the heat roll over his body at the thought of them watching him and Martin have sex. He wasn’t sure why his cock wept in excitement at the very idea. His hips gave one more jiggle, rubbing his rock-hard cock against Martin’s steel hard abs before he let his embarrassment take over.
Brad slid down, ignoring the grinning fools surrounding them.
“Do you need anything in town, Martin?”
Brad gave Martin a quick peck when he declined.
“Okay, we ready to go.” Brad regarded Joe, Greg, and Nick.
Their mutual nods and cheeky grins had hi
m huff loudly as he walked to the front door, grabbing his jacket hanging on the banister. He picked up his car keys off the hall table. As he opened the door, he gave Martin a quick wave.
Only when they were outside did Brad ask, “Who has the list of things we need to get?”
Joe poked his hand into his worn brown leather jacket pocket, pulling out a crumpled bit of paper. “Here, boss.” His sassy grin was contagious, and Brad grinned back.
“I’ll drive. It’s been a while since I had Daisy out.”
Nick’s quick laugh when he opened the garage had Brad flashing him a flinty glare. Brad noticed Nick’s fine pale blond hair was pulled back into a ponytail leaving his bright blue eyes and small sharp cheekbones on display. A rosy hue sat high on his cheeks, matching his lips, and made his pale blue eyes glow radiantly.
It never failed to surprise Brad how different Nick was to his brother. They were polar opposites, one blond, one dark, one large, and the other petite. Brad had felt an immediate affinity with Nick, with them both being small and blond. He also sensed a sadness that spoke of struggles. He’d tried not to probe, but he had offered his ear to Nick when they’d spent a few hours together last Friday, messing about in the gym.
Their joint love of martial arts and Nick’s offer to help Brad to learn more had him snapping up the offer. He couldn’t wait to get started.
“Earth to Brad, come in, Brad.” Greg clicked his fingers in front of Brad’s face, making him blush and pull his gaze from Nick’s quizzing expression.
“Sorry, err… I… was thinking about something,” he stuttered, scooting up the side of the car in the garage. He hopped into the car and, looking in the mirror, saw his three friends all talking animatedly at once. He wondered what had them all so fired up.
His mind was not on the task at hand and more on what he was missing. He turned the wheel, making sure to avoid his friends. He reversed out of the garage. His foot hit the accelerator harder than normal. Brad could see what was going to happen but couldn’t seem to stop it.
The loud shouts came too late as he felt the hit.
The noise of metal hitting metal made his ears ring. The seatbelt tightened painfully when his head and chest lurched forward at the sudden impact. Pain shot through his body and into his back. His teeth rattled together as his head snapped forward and back in quick succession. His heart fought to escape his chest.
The following silence seemed to last forever before all hell broke loose outside the car. Brad took several breaths, trying to calm his rioting pulse. He lifted his shaky hands and pushed his hair out of his face. He closed his eyes, not daring to look in the mirror at the damage.
The sudden cold air filling the car shocked him into opening his eyes and looking into a pair of stormy blue eyes. He was unable to move, and his blood froze. He watched Martin’s large hands unbuckle his seatbelt and lift him clear of the car.
Icy hands patted over his body, searching for any damage before he was unceremoniously dumped onto the ground. It was only then that Brad noticed Martin was shirtless and shoeless.
His jumbled mind registered that he must be freezing. The thought was lost when he watched him stride shoeless on the cold concrete to his car, releasing expletives, at what could only be described as machine-gun pace.
“What the fuck has he done to you, baby? Godfuckingdammit! Christalmighty! Shittinghell!”
Brad tried not to be hurt when Martin called his car baby or that he’d turned his full attention to the damaged hunk of metal. He watched unamused while Martin crooned words of love to his car. Brad started to feel slightly put upon, regardless that he had caused the accident. It would seem he couldn’t compete with Martin’s other baby.
When had Martin ever referred to his car as baby?
“It’s only a car, Martin. It can be fixed.” The words left his mouth a second before he could comprehend their impact. The loud angry growl and furious scowl had Brad step back on suddenly shaky legs. Hurt so deep pierced his happy Martin bubble. Brad struggled to pull in air as a sob escaped against his will.
“Hey, don’t you act like a jerk towards my friend.” Greg jumped in front of Martin, pushing at his bare tattooed chest, trying to hold him back from Brad.
Brad felt tears gather at the corner of his eyes at the angry snarl Martin threw at him. The pain in his chest increased, crushing all his newfound confidence to dust. Brad wanted to run and hide. Hide from the pain, from the anger Martin had been so careful to never aim at him until now.
A feeling of warmth surrounded him along with Joe’s apple scent as his arm hugged him, hard. Brad sniffed, looking into Joe’s warm chocolate regard.
“It’s okay. He’s just being a dickwad. He doesn’t mean it. Men can be like that over their possessions, in particular their cars. Or should I say their penis extension.”
Joe’s angry words were aimed at Martin’s retreating back.
Brad watched him stalk inside their home, not once looking back to check on Brad. The resounding slam as the front door was shut with a force that had Brad wince.
Wanting to sob his misery all over Joe’s chest, Brad struggled to stop the tears from leaking out. The wound throbbed like nothing he’d ever experienced before. The years of beatings seemed to pale in comparison to the hurt he felt at Martin being more concerned about his car than about him.
Okay, he’d checked I was all right first before going to the car, but still, to shout at me.
What the fuck was that all about?
Numpty!
Brad felt his anger spiral, growing past the misery and hurt. He stepped back from Joe. His hands clenched as he stomped to have a look at his and Martin’s car. The dark grey sky didn’t hide the glaringly obvious damage. He wanted to tremble at the dents and scratches on Martin’s paintwork.
I’ll pay to get it fixed, and it will look as good as new.
He crossed his fingers, hoping he was right.
He looked at the three men who all stood with their hands in their pockets, looking at the two cars with varying degrees of humour and distress.
“Well, this week just keeps getting better, doesn’t it? I’m dumped with a surprise party. Greg can speak to his cat. The same cat, I might add, that is probably planning on murdering my Princess, so he can steal her soul for Nick’s witchy poo. Did I miss something, or does that about sum up the last few days?” Brad stared at all three men as he felt his hysteria bubble up. He blinked several times, swallowing the lump in his throat.
“I’m not sure I can take much more of this.” Brad let the sob escape when Nick hugged him, followed by Greg and Joe. They stood in a huddle outside his house, next to the two damaged cars.
“That’s another fine mess you got me into, Stanley.” Brad chuckled when all three men pulled back, giving him varying degrees of concern.
“Oh please, have you never seen Laurel and Hardy.” Brad scratched the top of his head, mimicking Laurel, making the silly crying faces and the squeaky noises he used to make. He couldn’t help but join in the laughter as the three men howled at his antics. Wiping his eyes, Brad turned to look at his car.
He gave it another cursory glance and decided not to care how damaged it was after the growly shit Martin had pulled, along with calling his car “baby.”
I should be the only baby in Martin’s life, and when he got back from town, he would be explaining that to the bloody numpty in no uncertain terms. Martin hadn’t spent months helping him build his confidence to knock it down with one punch. No, he fucking hadn’t.
Brad rolled back his slim shoulders, letting his determination grow.
“Come on, it’s only the bumper that’s scratched and a little dented. It won’t stop my Daisy. Do any of you want to drive instead. I’ll understand.” Brad waited a beat when they all shook their heads. He gave a grateful nod, sniffing back his tears at their unwavering support before climbing back into the car.
With Nick’s direction, he managed to move his car around Martin’s. The slig
ht screech as they’d separated had him praying that Martin hadn’t heard it.
He held his breath until he pulled out of the cul-de-sac, only then letting it go as he drove carefully into Douglas. He sent out a silent wish that they wouldn’t have any more incidents. He was starting to think the universe was out to get him. And he hadn’t even had a chance to talk to Nick about the witch or Max. Feeling his worries rise, he actively shoved them to the back of his mind, concentrating instead on driving and the banter his “fight club” had going on.
The usual warmth Martin created inside his chest had been well and truly drenched in icy water with his idiotic behaviour. The unwavering support from his friends made it heat right back up. Brad contemplated how he’d spent most of his life avoiding friendships. Now he had more friends than he knew what to do with.
His dimples winked to life when he glanced in the rear-view mirror at Nick and Greg before glancing at Joe who was messing with his phone as normal. His life may have started out not so great, but he counted his lucky stars every day for what he had now, even with what had happened today. He was still blessed. He just needed to keep hold of that thought for when he got home later and reminded Martin in no uncertain terms who his baby was.
He shook off the shiver of apprehension that he might fail.
Bringing his attention back to the plan for today, he let his earlier excitement about Christmas shopping smooth over his disastrous morning.
Brad sighed, dropping the last of the bags of presents he’d bought into Greg’s spare room. Brad liked the black-and-white theme with splashes of colour that Greg had going on throughout his home. Though the house wasn’t overly big, the open-plan layout made it seem bigger.
Walking back downstairs, he went to find the others. He passed through the lounge towards the kitchen where he heard the chatter coming from. The scent of melted cheese and toast had his mouth watering before he even stepped into the kitchen. “Oh, I love cheese on toast. Do you have any tomato sauce? You can’t have it without sauce.” Brad continued to speak as he dragged out a bar stool and plonked his tired backside down, rubbing his aching legs.
