sidonius5:

Brett stared at the picture of Jesus winking of him on the mug. “You love coffee but Jesus loves you more!” it said. The paint was chipping off so Jesus had a mullet. He reckoned the mug was about 30 years old. He sipped the awful coffee and wondered why his grandparents used the grounds three times before throwing them out.

Loud engine noise cut through the chatter in the living room and kitchen. Everyone stopped talking to look outside. A beat up Camaro had pulled up; the red color stood out starkly against the dead trees and old snow in the grass. Brett could hear music through the glass of the living room window. His grandmother cursed. “Oh drat, who invited him?”
“It wasn’t me.”
“No idea.”

Brett couldn’t see who got out of the car. There was a tree in the way. People were looking to the door. No one knocked – it was thrown open in a haze of cigarette smoke. A murmur of discontent went through the family members. Brett’s jaw was wide open.
“Dammit Wyatt, what are you doing here?” Brett’s grandmother huffed. “Don’t smoke in here! Christ, what did you do to your face?”

Wyatt exhaled and took off his sunglasses. He was wearing torn black jeans with thermals underneath and a leather jacket with a sheepskin liner. “Oh I guess you haven’t seen my new face tattoo. Sick huh? Where is he…” Wyatt glanced around the room until he was looking directly at Brett. He pointed at him. “You. Get your coat on. And your long johns. And wool socks. You’re coming with me.”

“Brett?” Brett’s mother asked. “What do you want with Brett.”
“None of your business.” Wyatt drew on the cigarette.

Brett looked around bewildered. It was at this point, he noticed his Uncle Anthony smiling at him and giving him a thumbs up. Smiling was an understatement, you could have put a banana in Anthony’s mouth. Suddenly, Brett knew who had called Uncle Wyatt. It surprised him – Anthony came off as a goody too shoes to him. He was a total mamas boy, her angel, dressed in white, always perfect. When Brett didn’t move, Anthony gave him a little gesture that clearly meant “go.”

The cold air coming through the door snapped him out it. Brett put the mug down, slipped past his family members, and ran upstairs to get dressed. When he came back down the stairs, jamming his beanie on his head, there was a row going on, like a snake had been let loose in the hen house. Uncle Wyatt came out of the kitchen clutching some Christmas cookies with one shoved in his mouth.

He stuffed them in his pocket and grabbed Brett’s coat sleeve as he stomped out of the the house. Brett stumbled, but got his feet under him and followed Uncle Wyatt outside.

“You better bring him back before sunset!” Brett’s mother called out.
“Heather, the sun sets at like 4:30. Calm the fuck down, you’ll get him back after dinner.”
“You better or I’m calling the police.”
“He’s not 8, they ain’t gonna do shit.”
“Midnight. Wyatt, midnight.”
“It’s Christmas, have a heart!”
“Midnight!”

The door slammed shut.
Brett wondered if he was in danger. He didn’t really know Uncle Wyatt. As a kid, he was scared of him.

“Get in the car,” Wyatt said. “Fuckin freezing out here.” He stuffed another cookie in his mouth. “God these are so good.”
Brett silently got in the car. It smelled vaguely like cedar and cigarettes. Wyatt turned on the Camaro’s engine; it roared to life. Punk music blared out of the speakers. Brett winced. Wyatt turned it down. “Sorry. Don’t hear too well out of my left ear.”
“Um. Where are we going?” Brett asked timidly as the car moved down his grandmother’s driveway. He tried not to stare at the tattoo on Wyatt’s forehead.
Wyatt grinned. “To the woods, at the lake. To do drugs.”
What?” Brett shrieked.
“I got acid, shrooms, and edibles if you just want that. But I’d rather move around than be sitting still. Too cold to be still.”
“I’ve never done any of that,” Brett admitted.
Wyatt shot a look of pity his way.
“Well, now’s the time. Just you and I on this faggot sleigh ride.”
Wyatt chuckled when Brett gasped. “God, Heather coddled you. Little late at 17, but I think we can still make you cool before you go off to college.”
Brett just stared at him.
Wyatt sighed. “Ok, listen kid. Tony texted me.”
A-ha! Brett thought.
“Said you were having a hard time. I know what he meant. The Caruso family doesn’t give a shit about the gays – if they close their eyes, the homos doesn’t exist. If they acknowledge they got one in their family, they feel a little too close to all the nasty things they said about ‘the homosexuals’ and they get uncomfortable. Can’t have that. But there’s no denying it- sorry to tell you, there’s gay blood in this family, and guess what?”
“What?” Brett said.
“You’re the one that got it in your generation. Congrats.”
“Yeah,” Brett muttered. “I do.” He sighed.
“Well, don’t worry about those prudes. Dick is awesome, sleeping with men is awesome. You’re gonna grow up and have a real fine time learning about that stuff. And I’m not gonna let them ruin your Christmas by making you feel bad about liking dick.”

Brett furrowed his forehead. His brain was spinning. “You’re gay too?” It was almost a whisper.
Wyatt snorted and shoved another cookie in his mouth. “Yesh.” He chewed, and then washed it down with the can of Dr. Pepper that was sitting in the cup holder. “Yeah, I am, I mean. I got a beautiful little twink back at my place, love him to death. I’m not even allowed to bring Davey up, or I get gaslit and told I’m the one who is ruining the conversation”. Wyatt jabbed at his leather jacket he was wearing. “The fucking audacity,” he muttered as an afterthought.
Brett digested this. “Oh. Is that why I never see you at family stuff?”
“Part of it. And it’s not like I want to be there anyway. I got my band, so I’m always on tour. Or traveling. Or I’m in jail.”
Brett swallowed. “In jail?”
Wyatt grinned. “Not so much anymore. Would be a problem for the band.”
“Jeez,” Brett muttered.

“We got a bit of a drive, about an hour. So tell me about this boyfriend Tony said you have?”
Brett felt his ears get warm. “Well, sort of. Eric and I haven’t gone out on a date or anything, yet, but we like each other.”
“Have you fooled around at all?”
“We kissed.”
“That’s all?”
Brett groaned and pulled the beanie down over his face. “He won’t let me do anything else!”

Wyatt laughed. He gently coaxed more of the story out of Brett, which ended up being easier than he thought. Once Brett realized oh, it was actually ok to talk about this stuff and not downplay it to be socially acceptable, the flood gates opened. He’d been so desperate for advice and never had an adult who got it.

They stopped for snacks and drinks at a convenience store, and Wyatt gave him a piece of shroom chocolate.

“Only letting you microdose. Your brain is still developing, you know.”

Brett had no idea what he meant. But he learned while sitting on a rock at the lakeshore, staring at the green fir trees and thinking they had the most fascinating repeating patterns. He couldn’t believe something so straight and angular could exist in nature, when the beach was full of uneven ovals. Also, wow, it had never occurred to Brett just how old rocks were. It blew his mind.
Uncle Wyatt started skipping rocks and throwing stuff at the pieces of ice clinging to the shore, which was somehow, hilarious, especially since Uncle Wyatt kept saying the wrong words for things.

The shrooms lasted through the most beautiful sunset Brett had ever seen his life, an absolute masterpiece of orange and pink and red that made the residual snow glow. Brett thought about his boyfriend, and felt so much love for him; he wished Eric was here so they could hold hands.

By the time they got back to the car, Brett was more aware than ever how cold and tired he was, and just how dark everything was becoming. His stomach growled.

They drove to a diner for some Christmas ham, got damn decent coffee, and ate four slices of pie between them. Brett talked Wyatt’s ear off the whole way to the movie theater, asking every question about sex he ever wanted to ask. There was so many and somehow Uncle Wyatt knew all the answers. Answers that weren’t even in his text books. And what a fucking novelty to be allowed to say “penis” like an adult!

The movie theater was playing Die Hard as a Christmas special. Brett hadn’t seen it, but thought it was fucking awesome and vowed to watch it every Christmas. They didn’t make popcorn flicks like that anymore.

When Uncle Wyatt pulled up to Brett’s grandparent’s house, Brett had to be roused out of sleep. It was five to midnight. Heather was waiting for them, arms folded, as the car came to a stop. When they came up to the door, Brett hugged her, and muttered a “hi mom” with a sleepy smile.

“I present, your son,” Uncle Wyatt said with a flourishing hands.
“He smells like cigarettes,” Heather said flatly.
“You smell like grandma, so I guess we’re even.”

Brett wasn’t sure if he was dreaming or not when he heard his mom sighed and then admit that it was probably good Uncle Wyatt had taken him for the day, as Brett had been bored, and she did feel bad. But the confession came with a lot of scolding over Wyatt’s behavior.

“Why can’t you just be normal when you come over here?” Heather asked. “It’s like you like stirring shit up. You didn’t have to smoke, and walk through the kitchen in wet shoes, and let the cat out, and seriously? A face tattoo? What is it supposed to be anyway? Mom complained about it the entire-”

“Hey Mom, leave Uncle Wyatt alone ok?” It took Brett a moment to realize the words came out of his mouth. “He’s a pretty cool guy.” He yawned so hard his jaw cracked. “I’m going to bed. Thanks Uncle Wyatt for tonight. Merry Christmas.”
“See ya kid. Merry Christmas.”
Heather was stunned into silence.
After he left, Uncle Wyatt lit another cigarette. “Heather, I’m going to say this once, and once only. You let him be. Don’t discourage him being who he is ok? Or you’re only going to see more of me.”
“But Mom will-”
Uncle Wyatt held up his hand. “Forgot Mom. Better yet, don’t become Mom, Heather. You’re a modern woman. If you don’t embrace your son now, you won’t see him at Christmas once he leaves the house.”
“How dare-”
“How dare me, I know. He’s a good kid, and you’ve done a fine job in raising him so far, I admit that. Just be careful, please. Don’t draw a line in the sand. Let him be gay.”
Heather pursed her lips and folded her arms.
“By the way, I’m glad you finally cut your hair, it looks really good now.”

Heather couldn’t tell if Wyatt was being authentic, as she hated that haircut. She scrunched up her face. She knelt down, gathered snow in her hands, and pelted Wyatt with it.
“Oh don’t you-” Wyatt shrieked as it went down his collar.

Brett peeked out his window to his mother and uncle having a snowball fight in the yard. He shook his head in bewilderment and went to bed before he fell over. He had a weird dream that he went to school and Eric looked like Bruce Willis, and Bruce Willis wanted to make out in the locker room. Awesome.

___________________
Captions are fictional.

osmiumsky:

πŸŽ„πŸŒŸπŸŽ…πŸ€ΆπŸ›οΈβ­πŸ””β˜ƒοΈβ„οΈπŸ¦ŒπŸ§§πŸŽπŸ›·

Thank you for the heart ❀️, follow and reblog!

Edit: Didn’t mean to reblog this without a caption, but hey enjoy the eye candy.

awalkonthelightside:

A pink Christmassy stretch

Julian stares at the lights of the Christmas tree while absentmindedly running his hands over his body. He knows he should put his pajama shirt back and pants back on and go back to bed; the longer he stays down here, the longer he risks Felix catching him. The surprise would be ruined.

Julian smirks to himself at the thought of what tomorrow morning held. Oh, it was going to be glorious. Felix was going to be so confused. “Pink lingerie? You weren’t wearing this when you went to bed,” he’d say. And then Julian would explain how he waited until Felix fell asleep and slid out of bed to put the lingerie on under his pajamas.

“Merry Christmas,” Julian plans to say, as he strips off his pajamas and reveals everything. Julian wonders if he should stand up to do the reveal, or just let Felix undress him. Hmm. Planning a surprise is hard. Especially when you make yourself horny in the middle of it.

_____________
Captions are fictional.

nof-ckinsaint:

Jimmy dries himself, but in this warmth, the sun helps as much as the towel does. He lazily pats himself and glances out at the mountains. Half a week in Palm Springs and they still had not lost their novelty. Not something you usually see on the horizon in Omaha.

His attention is broken by the feeling he’s being watched. Jimmy turns around slowly. Another guest is standing in doorway of one of the rooms in this upscale motel that catered primarily to a certain male demographic. Jim turns to face him, not caring to hide his nudity. The man is wearing only denim shorts.
“Yes?” Jimmy says.
The man crooks his finger.
Jim walks closer to the stranger and stops about ten feet from his room.
The man’s gaze roams over Jim’s body. “I have been wanting to get a better look at your tattoos ever since I saw you at that cafe yesterday morning.”
Jimmy drapes the towel over his arm and holds hands up and away from his body
The man takes his time in looking. He crosses and uncrosses his arms, fidgeting the whole time. “Are you staying here with anyone?”
“Nope.” Jimmy says, “And in case you are wondering, I’m a top.”
The man blinks. A smirk appears on his face. He steps to the side and gestures for Jim to come into his room.
Jim drapes his towel over a chaise lounge chair, and heads inside. As he passes the stranger, Jim stops for a close look at his face. He reaches up nonchalantly and thumbs his chin. “Such a pretty face. I think I want you on your back. What is your name?”
“Chris.”
“I’m Jimmy. Tell me you have condoms Chris?”
Chris gestures to the coffee table. There’s three different open boxes in a bowl with packets spilling out.
Jimmy is deeply pleased by this, and his cock starts to stiffen. Jim walks over to the fridge, opens it, and considers its contents. He grabs two bottles of water and throws one to Chris. Chris catches it.
“You’re going to need this after all the sweating you’re going to be doing.”
A flicker of excitement crosses Chris’s face. Chris grabs Jim’s wrist and takes him to the bedroom; Jimmy barely has time to grab a handful of condoms. Jimmy stops Chris at the threshold by pushing him against the door and kissing him. The noise Chris makes at being kissed causes Jimmy to break out in goosebumps over his bare skin. Jimmy throws his water bottle and condoms on the bed so he can use both hands to unbutton Chris’s shorts. He’s about five seconds from just ripping them off.

_______________
Captions are fictional.

edibrad13:

Brandon tidied Daddy’s apartment, and now he is awaiting his reward. Daddy is taking forever though! He took a photo, which Brandon gets, because he knows his ass pops. But Daddy is taking his time – What is he looking at back there for so long? Why hasn’t he taken off my thong yet? Why is he kneading my ass like it’s bread dough and making those grunts? God, tops are so weird.

____________________
Captions are fictional.

mofug2:

Reggie was responding to a work e-mail and letting his body dry off after a shower when a young man sat next to him. He was a little startled when the man put a hand on his knee, reached over, and leaned in his ear. “Can I sit on the floor in front of you?” he whispered. Reggie’s instinct was to brush hm off – how dare someone touch him without permission? But the tone of his voice made Reggie change his mind. “Fine, but no teeth.”
“Of course not,” the man said. He slid to the floor at Reggie’s feet and pushed the towel aside. He was wearing compression leggings and shorts, and nothing else. The young man put a hand on Reggie’s thigh and used his other to stroke and guide Reggie’s cock to his lips.
“Mmnf. Good boy,” Reggie murmured in approval. He stroked the young man’s hair while he checked his social media, but soon he found things a bit too distracting and set down his phone. “My goodness,” Reggie breathed. Instead of rushing him to orgasm, this boy was focusing on keeping him hard and wanting. This was definitely not this young man’s first time hunting in a locker room for what he wanted. Reggie put his palms back on the bench and tilted his head back, not giving a shit who saw them enforcing he natural order of a man’s locker room.

_______________________
Captions are fictional.

egorodriguez:

Theo sighed and picked up the phone. “This better be work related.”
“It’s not. I want your dick,” Mike announced.
“I’m on shift right now. I’m investigating a case. I’m actually waiting to hear from an informant right now.”
“Theo, you and I both know that at this time of night, the Paseidies are not going to do anything worth reporting on. They’re a diurnal species – what the heck could your informant tell you at this time of night?”
“The informant isn’t a Paseidies. He has other stuff going on. Listen, I’m not coming over to fuck you. Aren’t any of your family up playing cards or watching movies or whatever they do on the holidays.”
Mike snorted. “At this house? And this hour? They’re all asleep. That’s why I’m bored and I’m horny.”
“Use Grindr.”
Mike groaned. “You’re so infuriating.”
“You’re so immature.”
“You don’t complain when you fuck me.”
“Cause you’re a good lay,” Theo admitted. “But not right now. Go play with a dildo.”

The waitress standing next to his table gave Theo a funny look. “Um. More coffee?”
Theo felt warm under the collar and avoided looking up at her. “Yeah. Thank you.”
“Theeeeooo~”
“I’m hanging up, Mike. I owe you a rain check.” Theo disconnected the call.

Theo leaned back in his seat and sipped his fresh coffee. Would he rather have a different heat warming his palm right now? Yes. Would he rather be steaming up car windows instead of being in this cafe? A million times yes. Anything to take his mind off this case. This case, which was not going anywhere but yet taking up all his time. Theo’s gaze drifted out the window; he tried not to think about how little sex he’d been getting lately. At least this was good coffee.

The phone startled him. Theo set down his drink and snatched it up. “Gardner.”
“There’s a delivery coming Friday at 9. You’re gonna want to see who is there. Warehouse 864, near the Chevron building.”
Theo scrambled to write this down. “9 am I’m guessing? And is it coming by truck, by boat?”
“9 am yeah. That’s all I got. Go to go.”
“You can’t meet up?” Theo asked.
“No, I can’t,” the informant replied.
“Where are you off to in a hurry?”
“I got a match on Grindr. Can you believe it? At this time of night!”

The realization set in. Theo pinched the bridge of his nose. “Oh you have to be fucking kidding me.”
__________________
Captions are fictional.

vallentiro14:

“Thank you for letting me know.” Tanner waited for his boy to go. “What is it?” he asked when Braden didn’t leave.
“I’m – I’m so fucking horny Sir, I can barely think.”
“Good. I want you singing when I fuck you before bed tonight.”
“My balls are aching from how full they are, Sir.”
“Oh, why didn’t you say so?” Tanner reached behind him and picked up the small remote. He hit the “on” switch and the plug inside of Braden began to vibrate on the middle setting.
Braden went rigid and gasped. He moaned deeply as a shudder went through his body.
Tanner waved his hand. “Show me your cage.”
Braden pulled his jockstrap to the side to bare his cage. It was straining, bulging in its cage over full plump eggs. The tip of the chastity cage was glistening from leaking pre-cum.
“Yes, boy, yes. Whose cock is that?”
“Yours, Sir.” Braden swallowed.
“That’s right. Good boy.” Tanner waved his hand again. “You can cover up. Don’t drip on my patio.”
“No Sir, I won’t,” Braden said quickly as he put his cock back in place.
“Good boy. Go finish making dinner now.”
Braden exhaled deeply. “Yes Sir.”
Tanner watched him go back into the house. “Man, no one told me when you put your boy in chastity, that you also get tortured having to wait,” he muttered to himself. “I don’t think I’m gonna make it to bed time.”

___________________
Captions are fictional.

vallentiro14:

Hugo thumbed through photos on his phone. “This one is my favorite so far.”
Arturo let out a low whistle. “He is stunning. That ass is begging for stripes.”
“Oh I’ve put them there. The aftercare was almost as good as the session, he was so soft and warm in my lap, I didn’t want to stop cuddling him. To say I’m very excited for Luis to be here is an understatement.”
“Paperwork is complete?”
“Indeed it is. My insurance goes into effect into Monday, so that’s when I can go pick him up from Everton.”
Arturo tilted Hugo’s phone so he could see the screen. “Where do they find boys this beautiful? Every boy I know that comes out of Everton’s looks like a model.”
Hugo chuckled. “That’s cause you don’t see them going in.” He thumbed to another picture of Luis looking coyly in the camera. “This beautiful lad spent most of high school in juvie, he’s been arrested in two states, and got in trouble for selling himself in jail and not paying taxes on his earnings. He also had a warrant out for his arrest in his home county for not paying a parking ticket.”
Arturo nearly spilled his wine as he threw his head back and laughed. “Are you serious?”
“Indeed. I got that pesky warrant taken care of of course.”
“My goodness, what a hellion.”
Hugo nodded. “He is spicy. Perhaps a bit too spicy. Luis desperately needs to be taught discipline.”

Arturo sipped his wine. “That may be so, but…what about your family business?”
Hugo shrugged. “I imagine he’ll end up in it one way or the other; Luis has potential to make a nice career for himself, but he could be a real liability.” He smirked. “It seems that Luis doesn’t often consider the consequences of his actions, or the risks he’s taking. It’ll be fun teaching him to consider those things. And rewarding him, long and hard into, into the sheets, all night long.”
Arturo chuckled. “You are impatient for him to get here.”
Hugo exhaled. “So very impatient.”

“Your talk of discipline has gotten me a bit aroused. Why don’t we go upstairs and pass some time?”
The corner of Hugo’s mouth lifted up. “Like old times?”
“Like old times. Well, I had less grey hair back then,” Arturo muttered.
“I like your grey hair.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. It’s sexy,” Hugo brushed his bangs with his fingers.
“You are such a good friend. Do you have more wine by the way?” Arturo held up his empty glass.
“Always.” Hugo put an arm around Arturo’s waist. “Let’s go get drunk and fuck until Monday comes.”
“Cheers to that!”

___________
Captions are fictional.