Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Brandon
As expected, Charles comes storming down the street to “talk” to Zeke about Robbie’s and my Christmas decorating.
Robbie and I watch from the front window as he goes red in the face, growing more and more agitated.
Zeke is leaning against the house, arms crossed, small smile on his face, and not rising to meet Charles on his level.
Whenever I see the two of them together, I’m reminded of a cat toying with a mouse.
Eventually, Zeke shrugs and says in his low, deep voice, “Where’s your festive spirit?”
Charles gapes. “If I went to the dean—”
“But you won’t. Because it was only a few decorations, and we’ve both done way worse.”
He scowls. “Fine, but get your boys under control.”
“Sure thing, buddy.” Zeke pats his shoulder before turning for the house. “Now go home before you hurt yourself.”
Robbie and I grin at each other and scatter before Zeke can come in and give us some half-assed speech about forcing Charles on him.
First Bro-motions night back from break is always a big one.
The main concerns are jumping back into classes and keeping up with grueling schoolwork.
Some brothers have had issues with their families, and others, like Miles, are wondering what they’re doing so far from home.
He’s got a huge family back in Tennessee, so I sort of understand, but as an only child whose parents gave him everything, college was my first hit of freedom.
I love them, but I also love breaking out on my own.
I guess it’s not hard to forget about homesickness when you’re only an hour from home.
“… dunno if I should transfer closer,” he says. That catches my attention. And Robbie’s, apparently.
“Leave?” he asks.
Miles shifts. “I dunno, man. I thought I would have settled in by now, but it still don’t feel right.”
“Family’s important,” I cut in before Robbie can get started on brothership and make Miles feel guilty. “And you have to make the best choice for you and your mental health. It’s always number one, dude. But if you do stay, we’re all here for you.”
The other guys agree. And that’s the amazing thing about Bro-motions night.
We’re here to support and listen, even if we don’t have the answers.
There’s no judgment. No sly comments. No one made to feel weak.
It’s what we need when we’re all so involved in sports that still come with a heavy side of toxic masculinity.
I know Miles moved here for hockey, and he has a decent shot at the NHL after he gets his degree, but that shot isn’t a guarantee, and it would be fucked for him to go through all this stress and missing everyone to not reach his dreams.
But that’s the gamble we all have to make.
It’s the gamble everyone makes with college. We’re sinking four years into a degree that might do sweet fuck all for our futures, yet we’re pressured to go through the motions and rack up debt on something that’s a total crapshoot.
My gaze strays to where Robbie is sitting.
He takes up half the couch to himself. Everything from his body to his confidence to the way he owns a space is big, and damn if that isn’t catching my attention in an inappropriate way.
He’s turning me on, and all he’s doing is knitting whatever misshapen thing he’s working on.
I wrench my attention back to the others and try to be a good brother and listen to their problems instead of my dick.
Even if my dick is making a compelling argument.
The meeting can’t wrap up fast enough. Seriously. It can’t. Especially since it ends up running way later than they normally do.
When we finally end things and people start making their way home or to their rooms, I all but drag Robbie out of the room and down the hall.
“Tonight,” I whisper as soon as we’re out of earshot.
“For …”
I punch his shoulder because the look on his face tells me he knows exactly what I’m talking about. “Wait until everyone is in bed, then sneak into my room.”
“Why does it have to be your room?”
I narrow my eyes. “You don’t want to do it again?”
“Damn right I do. But you’re the little one. You should do the sneaking.”
“Little? I’m six foot, you dick.”
He snorts. “Well, that’s a stretch.”
“Fuck off, you know I am.”
“With shoes on, maybe.”
“Sorry we can’t all be behemoths.”
He chuckles and leans in, lips alarmingly close to my ear. “Lucky I like bite-sized things.”
I shoulder check him and walk off before I remember we didn’t actually work out who was going to who.
Fucking Robbie. Is it humanly possible for us to have a conversation where we don’t get at each other’s throats?
Not six foot? Maybe some of us enjoy not being giants, thanks.
And sure, I’m not built like a brick shithouse, but I’ve never had complaints about my size.
Height, muscle, dick … I’m totally in proportion.
My proportions just happen to be normal-people standards.
I’m still annoyed when the house falls quiet, and I give in about a second later. I’m too desperate for this to play games. When I get to his room and duck inside though, I find Robbie stripped down and lying on his bed with his hands behind his head, wearing nothing but a shit-eating grin.
“Good thing no one else walked in,” I say, zeroing in on his cock as I lock the door behind me.
“Definitely. I’d hate to give my brothers self-esteem issues.”
“Uh-huh.” I cross the room, pulling off my clothes as I go. The same awkwardness from the last time is trying to take hold, so I do my best to ignore it as I climb up to lie beside him.
“Hold up.” He pulls back and takes a moment to check me out. “Your abs are insane.”
“I think the same about your arms.”
He lifts one and flexes, and even though I know he’s being a cocky dick, the sight is incredible. Fat chance I’m going to tell him that though.
“Have you been working out since the season ended?” I squeeze his bicep. “Not as impressive as I remember.”
“Fuck you.” He laughs and nudges his cock into my thigh. “What about that? Still impressive?”
“Okay, that I can’t even joke about.” I roll my eyes. “No need to look so smug.”
“I’m an impressive beast. I get it.”
“Beast is right.” Because fuck him I’m into it. “Can we get started yet?”
“Someone’s impatient.”
“Dude, you’ve been edging me for over a week.”
“Everyone wants the Rob-dog.”
I make a show of going to climb out of bed. “No. Nope. Can’t do it with someone who calls themselves Rob-dog.”
He pulls me back down and rolls on top of me, pinning me to the mattress with his bulk. “You jealous? Want me to call you Bran-diddy-dog?”
“Sure. If you want me to completely lose my boner.”
“I can call you brother if you like.”
“Okay, Bran-diddy-dog is a step up from that, at least. Not a big step. Maybe more like an uneven crack in the footpath.”
He hums and leans down to brush his lips over mine. Like every time we’re together, it sends a warm ripple through me. “So since we’re keeping this discreet, I guess we need to be quiet, right?”
“Mhmm. Otherwise, everyone will know.”
“Yeah, and the walls are thin. But I’m not exactly known for being quiet, and judging by our practice run, you’re a vocal motherfucker too.”
“I can hold it in.”
Robbie runs his hand over my cock, and I suck in a gasp. “You were saying?”
“Fuck off, you don’t make me lose that much control.”
“If you want to risk it …” He very slowly strokes me from root to tip, and even that small amount of friction from him has me feeling all shivery. Okay, so maybe control isn’t a thing I’ll have for much longer.
“Fine. Fine,” I say. “What are we going to do about it?”
A devilish spark hits his eyes. “How do you feel about being gagged?”
“Gagged?”
“Do you need me to explain it, or are you unsure?”
“Explain this.” I whack his head. Goddamn moron.
“It’ll keep you quiet.” He leans in and licks along my ear.
I melt. Even the lightest touches are too much that when he gets his mouth on me, I can barely think.
“We don’t need to decide now since I’ll be gagged by your cock anyway, but think about it. If we’re going to be cumpanions—”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Like companions, but with cum. I thought it sounded better than bum buddies.”
“Neither of those is great.”
He thinks for a moment. “What about fap brothers?”
“Dude, no.” I wrinkle my nose.
“Like frat brothers who fap together.”
“I know what you meant, and it’s still a hard no.”
“Cumpanions it is, then.”
I cringe, but I can’t deny it is the better of the three. “Back to what you were saying.”
“Oh yeah, if we’re going to do this, you know, regularly, we have plenty of time to figure it out.” His thick fingers drag over my bottom lip. “And I’m not gonna lie, thinking of you gagged is hot as hell. Especially if it’s because your lips are wrapped around my cock.”
The familiar nerves are back at that, because I have no idea what I’m doing when it comes to blow jobs anyway, let alone when the cock I’m working with is a monster.
But I want to try. Even if the thought sends enough butterflies through my gut to make me feel sick, I want to do it.
To feel my mouth stretched around him and taste his cum on my tongue. “Better get to it, then,” I tell him.
Robbie’s stare sharpens. “Let the bro jobs commence.”