Coming Home (5 page)

digging his cock twitch again and Brad had no shame when he started grinding against Chase's thigh.

The combination of his harsh stroking and thrusting into the wet hotness that was Brad's mouth sent him over the edge. His fist tightened around the base of his cock at the same time as his back arched, his legs tensed, and his toes pointed toward his head.

Brad knew the moment Chase was about to cum when the dick in his mouth was pulled out and pointed toward Chase's chest.

Fuck that!
Brad leaned forward and was rewarded with a spurt of hot cum on his face before he could wrap his lips around the gushing cock. If he had thought his taste buds had exploded before, he was wrong. Spurt after delicious spurt filled his mouth and he swallowed by reflex.

When no more of what he decided would be his new favorite treat was forthcoming, he crawled up Chase's muscular body. Chase was still panting when he pressed his lips firmly to the man's mouth and Brad breathed in Chase's exhales but did not break the connection of their lips.

Chase broke it for them when he turned his head to lap up the trails of his own cum that were running down the side of Brad's face. Chase drug his tongue over the rough stubble, cleaning Brad's face like he was a cat lapping up milk, and grinned when a moan of pleasure came from Brad.

Both men lay there in a strange sense of dé·jà vu, panting like they had after their fight. Once their heart rates calmed and their breath was back to normal, Chase nudged Brad to get up. The time for tenderness was over and all Chase wanted to do was crash.

"It's late," Chase stated the obvious as they were both sorting out their jeans.
"Yeah," Brad replied as he walked over to the door that was still wide open to the North Carolina night.
Chase stood with one hand on his door and watched Brad head down his walk. The man stopped and looked back as he opened the door to his Chevy.
"See you around then," Brad called back.
Chase just gave him a nod without bothering to reply and didn't even wait until Brad got into his truck before he closed and locked his front door.

Chase's dreams were filled with Brad the following week. They shifted between fucking, wrestling, and all out punch ups. But they all had one thing in common: rope. Unless, of course, he counted the raging hard on he woke up with every morning.

He had no idea how a mutual orgasm and a shitty blow job, even if Brad did swallow, seemed to mute his hatred for the guy. He knew he wasn't falling for his high school tormentor; he just didn't hate him as much.

He found himself walking down to the creek at random times of the day or lingering there in the evening when he took his swim after PT'ing but he never ran into Brad. He hadn't run into him in town either and Chase was wondering if the guy was purposely avoiding him after last weekend.

Shit I can do about it if he is but at least he was good for two orgasms.
Maybe Brad decided he wasn't as gay as he thought he was, even though he seemed to enjoy himself. It wasn't like Chase could do anything about it if that was the case and he wasn't sure why the whole lack of seeing the guy was bugging him anyway.
If he really wanted to see him, he knew where Brad lived but he wasn't one to chase guys like a skirt. It probably wasn't even actually Brad he wanted to see again but more likely the opportunity to get off with something other than his own palm.
Fuck, I miss the internet
, he thought even though that wouldn't solve his palm problem. The cable company said it could be up to a year before they have the lines installed out here.
Maybe I should just get satellite.
Chase finished his thoughts about the same time he finished his swim and since it seemed like Brad wasn't going to make an appearance, he headed up to the house.

Brad was not a happy camper. The morning after he was with Chase, one of their mares went into labor and the vet who made house calls in the area was visiting family in Florida. Thankfully, for the mare, he recognized her symptoms when he went to let the horses out to pasture. It was an hour and a half drive to the stables where the vet who was covering for his normal one was located. Roxy didn't give him any problems getting into the trailer and it was early enough that traffic wasn't a bitch.

That was four days ago. Not only did Roxy have complications with the delivery but it looked like she was trying not to deliver at all. She probably knew the foal was breeched. On top of that, as if it wasn't enough, it was another twenty eight hours before she passed the placenta and then started hemorrhaging.

He called Bobby to tend the other horses on the farm but he had no way to get in touch with Chase. He was kicking himself for not getting Chase's number, or at least asking for it, and he sure as hell couldn't ask Bobby to deliver a message.

Now he was finally headed home, without Roxy and the foal.
All I want to do is sleep for about eighteen hours straight and hopefully be rested enough to hit up the Trough and see Chase again
. That thought brought an exhausted smile to his face as he drove home.

Brad was still beat when he walked into the Trough on Friday night. If he was lucky, Chase would make an appearance, even though Brad had only seen him come in on Saturdays, because he was too chicken shit to just show up unannounced at the guy's door. Hell, he didn't even know how to court a guy and he doubted it was done with the whole flowers deal.

"You look like shit, dude," Bobby informed him as if he didn't already know. "A beer will fix ya right up though."

Bobby waved to Jackie and she brought Brad a Bud Light. "How's Roxy?" she asked when she set the bottle in front of him. It didn't surprise him that she knew about his mare. There wasn't much that happened to her family, as she called her customers, which she didn't know about.

The Friday night crowd was almost the same as the Saturday night one with only a few different people. The one person he was looking for was nowhere to be seen.

"Nothing new," Bobby said as he looked over his shoulder into the crowd. "But I hear the McDouglas twins will be coming for a visit soon and you know they are always up for a good time." Bobby laughed. "Remember the last time they visited? What's it been now about three years?"

"Somthin' like that." Chad was only half listening to Bobby.
"Well, I wish they would visit more often. Getting kinda tired of Sue Anne but she's better than my hand."
Typical Bobby. If he wasn't looking for a punch up, he was looking to get laid. Sometimes Brad wondered if Bobby would ever grow up and now just happened to be one of those times. He just grunted and held his empty up for Jackie to see.
It was turning out to be a disappointing night at the Trough. He wanted to hang with Chase and was stuck with Bobby. He kept thinking about Chase and was having a hard time paying attention to Bobby's banter. Bobby, who decided the beer wasn't doing enough to wake his tired ass up, started ordering shots on top of them. At least if he was stuck here with his best friend instead of being with Chase, he might as well drink them.

Chase was pouring his morning coffee when he looked out the window and saw a familiar Chevy parked behind his Ford.
What the fuck?
He had no idea where Brad had been,
and I don't really care…liar
, but he knew the guy wasn't in his driveway the night before. What he was doing there now was another mystery.
At least he thought Brad was there now. From the window, he couldn't see anyone in the cab of the truck so he made his way outside, coffee cup in hand.
Chase approached the driver's side and low and behold, there was Brad crashed out across the bench seat. For a moment, Chase just stood there and watched the man sleep. His light brown hair looked like an egg beater had attacked his head as he used his elbow as a pillow. Chase shook his head and went back inside for a refill.
With another cup of coffee in his hand he stared out of his kitchen window at the truck and contemplated waking Brad up.
No matter how long he's been out there, he is gonna be sore as hell when he wakes.
In the end, as curious as Chase was as to why Brad was crashed out in his pickup in Chase's driveway, he decided to let the man sleep.
By the time Chase finished his pot of coffee, took a shower, and dressed, the Chevy in his drive was gone when he looked again.

Brad walked into the Watering Trough, even though he was still feeling the remnants of his hangover from the night before. His eyes roamed the bar looking for the one man he wanted to see. Chase was bent over the pool table giving him a perfect view of his ass and the line of his back. Brad's eyes did not leave Chase's body; muscles were stretched and tense as he took the shot. Brad looked away as Chase stood; he didn't want to be caught staring.

"Surprised to see you tonight after all the fun you and Bobby had last night," Jackie said and grinned.
"Drinking tonight?" she asked.
"Yeah, hair of the dog and all that." Brad chuckled.
Chase saw Brad when he stood up from his shot. He was still curious as to why the guy was crashed out in his driveway that morning but figured he would find out soon enough. If Brad wanted to tell him, that is. He sure as hell wasn't going to ask like a wife.
He had just started the game, more for something to do than any other reason. But now that Brad had made an appearance, Chase planned on winning the table. Maybe the guy had enough balls to actually come play a game with him. Chase smirked.
Brad leaned against the bar and milked his beer as he covertly watched Chase playing pool. He could see that Chase knew how to play and was contemplating putting quarters up when Bobby came in. His best friend looked to be in much better shape than he was.
"Hey," Bobby said as he saddled up to the bar and accepted his MGD from Jackie. Brad just nodded his hello. When Bobby turned around to mimic Brad leaning against the bar, he spoke again. "So, the new asshole to the bar is that faggot Chase Murphy, huh?"
Brad tried not to tense at the word 'faggot' by taking another drink. Bobby had always used words like 'faggot' and 'nigger' but where Brad used to just ignore the comments, he felt they were hitting a little close to home lately.
"Guess so," Brad replied and had to stop there before he said something he might regret.
"I should have kicked his ass last weekend," Bobby cracked. "If I knew it was him was then, I would have."
After his own fight with Chase, he seriously doubted Bobby stood a chance in hell. The bruises he received had healed so Bobby never had the chance to ask about them. That was the only saving grace with the whole Roxy trip to the vet. Brad just gave another grunt.
"I say we kick his sorry ass off the table," Bobby said and sounded like he was itching for a fight.
"If you want," Brad replied and smiled when Bobby made the suggestion. It was the perfect excuse to get closer to Chase and he knew that Bobby would assume his smile was for a totally different reason. "Let's do it."
Bobby bought them another round and grabbed a few bucks in quarters before they headed across the bar to the pool table.
Chase watched Brad and the asshole that was Bobby Morris walk across the bar toward him. He was just leaning down for the shot on the eight when Bobby stepped up to the table. The asshat set his bottle down near the pocket Chase was aiming at and just stood there. For the briefest moment, Chase considered jumping the cue ball and nailing the son of a bitch. Instead, he just looked under the brim of his hat and smirked at the guy before taking the shot. The cue ball stopped dead after it hit the eight and sent the ball smoothly into the pocket.
"What the fuck are you grinning at, faggot?" Bobby taunted Chase as he stood up.
"Not rightly sure," Chase replied and stood at the head of the table. He didn't wait for Bobby to reply, hell the dumb shit probably didn't realize he was insulted, before he spoke. "You talking or you playing?"
"What do you think?" Bobby put quarters in the table and Chase didn't waste his time with a reply.
Brad stood behind and to the side of Bobby as he racked the balls. He returned the stare that Chase was giving him from under the brim of his hat and smiled. Chase could have easily let Bobby's shit comment escalate into a brawl but he didn't. Brad was glad because he really would have had no choice but to take Bobby's side in a fight.
Bobby stepped back and leaned next to Brad as Chase rubbed his hand over the powder before chalking his stick.
Idiot is brave enough to stand behind the rack. I should jump the cue and nail him in the mouth.
Chase grinned at the thought but knew there was just as good a chance he would hit Brad as there was to his Bobby.
The break was clean, sending the colored balls in every direction and even dropping a few, but Brad's eyes weren't on the table. He watched as Chase took high balls and made two more in before it was Bobby's turn.
"Hope you're not a sore loser, faggot," Bobby grinned at Chase as he bent to take his shot and Brad held his breath. A fight by the pool table would be ugly when the cues became weapons.
"I see your vocabulary hasn't grown much since high school." Chase smirked again and Brad grimaced.
Fuck, Chase, don't taunt him. He doesn't need help to find an excuse to fight
, Brad silently prayed.
Bobby took his shot and missed before he stood and shot back, "What? You prefer ass-monkey?"
Chase just shook his head and wondered why he was bothering to even talk to the asshole. He moved around the table and chose his shot. It put him almost directly in front of Brad. As he bend down to take his shot, his back foot hit Brad's but he didn't even bother to look down and Brad didn't bother to move.
Enjoy the view.
They got down to the eight ball, Chase not really playing to beat Bobby. He would much rather sit at the bar and watch Brad play from under the brim of his hat. That plan was ruined when the asshat he was shooting against scratched on the eight.
"Son of a bitch," Bobby cursed as he thrust his stick toward Brad. "Kick that faggot's ass. I'll get us another round." Bobby stormed off toward the bar.
"Sorry about that," Brad apologized once Bobby was out of ear shot. He moved around the table to the hand powder and it brought him almost shoulder to shoulder with Chase.
"Don't apologize for that asshat," Chase said as he powdered his own hand. Brad wasn't looking at him and Chase knew he was more than likely keeping an eye on where Bobby was in the bar.
"Busy later?" Brad asked before he started moving away to rack the balls.
"You know where I'll be," Chase replied and decided that he would head out after this game. He was already putting a plan in place.
Bobby returned with their beers and Brad wanted nothing more than to leave the bar right then. He practically ran the table against Chase but had the impression the guy wasn't trying to beat him. Not like he had done with Bobby until they got to the eight.
"That shows you, faggot!" Bobby threw at Chase when Brad sunk the eight into a side pocket. Chase just tipped his hat in Brad's direction and headed to the bar to cash out. He heard Bobby say, behind his back as he was walking away, "I should kick that faggot's ass. He was flirting with you, dude!"
Chase didn't hear Brad's reply but he couldn't help the laugh that escaped his lips.
Just try it ass wipe and after you get out of the hospital you can kick your best friend's ass as well.