Happy New Year! Going to be better about posting--it's a resolution. *nods*
Here is a short scene I put together in November for Amber's birthday blog party, and it got a really nice response, so I'm planning to write the book this year. On her blog I had challenged her readers to name what story Andy is from, and eventually someone remembered him as Chaz' best friend and neighbor from Remarkable Restraint.
Meanwhile, Blue is Jesse, the old flame from Silver and Gold, and Red and White are his twin sons who he's moving in to their first off-campus apartment.
“Triplets? Oh, happy birthday to me,” Andy breathed as he pressed his
eye so closely to the peephole blinking became a problem, his hands and
chest flat against the door.
He tried every possible angle and even switched eyes to try to get
the best close-up view of the activity outside his front door, growing
increasingly frustrated with his inability to confirm his suspicion. But
no way was he going to go out and have their first impression of him be at his least primped.
The fish-eyed view only allowed Andy to see one blurry face at a time, but the three tall, jeans-clad, yummy
men hauling furniture and boxes into his friend’s old apartment looked
enough alike that the only difference Andy could see was their shirt
color. And their hairstyles. All were the proverbial tall, dark, and
handsome with identical builds and height. But the guy in the tight,
white tee had his hair loose, just brushing the tops of his broad
shoulders; the man with the red tee might have the same length as his
brother, but he wore it tied back at the nape of his corded neck; and
the beauty in marine blue wore his in a short, conservative cut.
Sweat freely rolled down their tanned faces and necks, darkening
their shirts at the typical places, their muscles flexed and bunched,
passing by too quickly as they moved in and out of Andy’s limited view.
He could hear deep masculine voices alternately griping and teasing as
they worked together with easy familiarity. At one point, they had a
huge leather sofa stuck halfway in the door at a funny angle, with Mr
Red Hot yelling at Tight-White as they argued about whether to pull it
out or push it in to loosen it.
Muffled expletives and names were flying as Blue Boy came up the
stairs to the landing and said something in a low, authoritative tone
which quieted the other two down in a hurry. Andy squinted and looked
more closely as a blurry Blue lingered obligingly in his line of sight.
Not triplets then. Probably an older brother or something. The way he
carried himself bespoke a maturity that was beyond college-aged. Just as
well. College-aged was getting a bit young for him.
He bent over to set down a large box, and on tip-toe, Andy almost
killed himself craning up and around trying to see his ass, which was
tantalizingly out of focus at the bottom of the peephole. He grimaced as
he rotated his neck, finally noticing that he was painfully stiff, and
not just his cock at this point.
“Is this really the impression you want to make on your new neighbors? Settle down, boys.”
Looking out in time to see Blue gesturing at his door, Andy revised
his mental estimation of the man’s age up another half-decade or so, now
into his thirties. Much older brother then. Or cousin? Uncle? This was getting better and better. Older guys knew what they were doing.
He flattened himself against the door, eye on Mr Blue, and playfully
humped the door as he watched the three work to pull the couch back out
and set it down on the landing. Fuck, it’d been a long time since he’d
gotten laid. Almost a month. Maybe he’d get lucky and one–or more–of
these three would be gay. Or curious. Yeah, curious was fine with him.
At a low command from the oldest, Tight-White clambered down the
stairs and reappeared a minute later lugging a cooler, joining the other
two seated on the couch.
Diet Coke break, sweaty boys. C’mon, someone lose a shirt already.
He almost laughed out loud as right on cue, Red Hot pulled his shirt
over his head and used it to mop his face and neck while Blue took
charge of distributing drinks.
Finally motionless for the first time in the hour he’d been watching,
Andy was finally able to appreciate the three. Good genes in this
group, and they were definitely related. White and Red had to be twins,
they were indistinguishable. And Blue was a slightly older carbon copy.
He stifled a snort as it hit him.
Red, white, and blue, how patriotic. Making me salute. Oh yeah.
Damn fine, and built like brick shithouses, all three. Andy was
ogling Red’s ripped chest and abs and actively rubbing himself through
his pants when his phone rang. He jumped as if someone could see him,
yanking his hand away from his crotch and racking his not-so-funny bone
against the doorjamb with a loud thunk.
“Shit!” That fucking hurt. Andy struggled to get his cell out of the
front pocket of his tight designer jeans, made even tighter by his
star-spangled erection. Finally succeeding, he looked at the display and
chanced a peek out the peephole again and all three men were staring
right at him. Or rather, at his door.
“Hey,” he whispered, caught in the invisible stare-down with the trio.
“Andy?” His best friend Chaz sounded wary. “Why are you whispering? I didn’t interrupt anything, did I?”
“Nope, just checking out the new neighbors.”
Blue looked away first, stretching his arms up over his head before rummaging through the cooler.
“And you’re whispering because…”
“No reason, babe.” Andy watched as the ringleader pulled out a
handful of ice and started crunching it a cube at a time. The twins both
lunged for the cooler at the same time, fighting for dominance before
Red managed to shove his brother aside, grabbing his own handful of ice
and shoving it down his brother’s tucked-in t-shirt.
“Hey!” Andy could hear White’s outraged yell clearly through the door.
“Well, you’ll have to tell us all about them at dinner tonight.”
“Dinner?” Andy echoed absently. The twins were wrestling in earnest,
White laughing evilly as he took Red to the ground and thrusting a chunk
of the freed ice from his shirt down his brother’s jeans, then sat on
him, refusing to let him use his hands. Blue was laughing at their
antics, and Andy was torn between watching the weirdly arousing
fraternal wrestling and the breathtaking, laughing face of their
“Yes, you’re coming to dinner tonight.”
Andy stood up straight, abandoning his clandestine surveillance. “Wait a minute, since when?”
Chaz spoke gently. “Since we haven’t seen you since we moved. I
miss you, we both do.” He sighed. “It’s your birthday, and I have a
sneaking suspicion that you have no plans. You probably haven’t been out
for weeks. Andy, you know…”
“Don’t go there, babe. And thanks. I’ll be over. You know me too well.”
They said their goodbyes then Andy took one last look out the
peephole, before sighing and heading to get ready to actually join the
real world, wondering if the boys would still be out there when he left
for his command performance birthday dinner…
Walt Whitman (May 31, 1819 - March 26, 1892)
2 hours ago