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so that Brian had to sprint to the fence to catch it.
Brian jogged up to him, tossing the football underhand and
said,"Did you talk to him?"
"Jim doesn't like to talk about himself, Brian. He talks
about you, or me, or the mailman. But he won't talk about
himself. Haven't you noticed that?"
Brian considered. He had, but he hadn't given it much
thought. It interested him that Scott had. "You like him,
huh?"
"He's a good guy," Scott turned the football in his hands,
fitting his fingers over the stitching.
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"You guys have been spending a lot of time together?"
Scott shrugged. "Sure. Go out long again, Bri. I like to see
that pretty ass running."
Brian laughed and headed back across the lawn at a dead
run.
* * * *
"Hey, Momma Bear." Jim stopped washing dishes and
clasped the hands that encircled his waist.
"Hi, Brian."
Brian stepped around and snuggled up into his Momma's
warm embrace. "Mmm, you smell like something good."
Jim chuckled. "Made sausage pizza for dinner."
Everything Momma cooked ended up scenting his beard.
Brian buried his nose in it and wiggled the rest of his body
into all of Momma's nooks and crannies.
Jim petted his hair contemplatively. "How are you?"
"Mmmrrr. Good." Brian's raised his face. "You?"
Jim's eyes had that vague look. "Fine."
Brian studied him. "You sure?"
Jim nodded, his lips smiling, but his brows frowning. "Sure
I'm sure."
The next morning he was gone.
* * * *
"Damnit all to heck," Scott threw his shoe at the railing.
"Can't get the damned thing unlaced."
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"Here, let me help you." Brian ran over and saved Scott's
running shoe from falling into the bushes. He sat down and
began plucking at the knotted laces.
"Don't bother," sulked Scott. "Don't feel much like running
today." He lowered his chin to his knees and glowered in the
general vicinity of the front yard. "Why'd he go?"
Brian didn't have to ask Scott about whom he spoke. The
man had been in a foul temper ever since they'd woken and
found Jim off on one of his unexplained trips.
"He just goes," he shrugged. "Paul says Jim's always done
this..."
"I know,' said Scott. "I live here, too. What I want to know
is why the hell did he go this time?" He kicked something and
sat back, arms folded and lip in a full pout.
Brian sat looking at him, no idea what to say.
"I have a two week run starting tomorrow," said Scott. "It
would have been ... civil, for a man to leave a forwarding
address. Or a note." He jumped to his feet and trotted into
the house, slamming the door behind him hard enough that
the windows rattled.
* * * *
"I think it hurt Scott's feelings when Jim left," said Brian
that evening when he and Paul lay in bed.
"Really?" Paul stroked Brian's shoulder. "Hmmm."
"Why does he just go like that, Paul?"
"He's never told me, hun. Something's eating at the man,
though. And sometimes he just can't take it and he has to
go."
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"I miss him," said Brian. "I think Scott misses him, too.
And I don't think Scott is used to missing people."
Paul smiled, curling gold hair around his finger. "I think
you might be right, Brian."
* * * *
With Scott off on his run, Brian and Paul had the house to
themselves. The place seemed huge and empty to Brian. He
would find himself wandering into Jim's room, or Scott's, and
standing there just staring and wondering what he'd come in
there for.
But he and Paul were able to stabilize their relationship,
establish rules that had been liquid before, and give Brian
that peace he craved.
"Do you need help studying for your Sociology test?"
"Yes." Brian brought the book back and handed it to Paul
where he sat in the big leather chair. "Will you quiz me?"
He curled up on the floor at Paul's feet, a place he had
gravitated to at some point quite naturally, and waited for
Paul to find the chapter's questions.
Paul looked down at him, eyes glowing with approval.
"Your hair is so much longer."
Brian smiled, warmth in his cheeks. His curls had grown
enough so that they'd become ringlets. Paul allowed him to
wear his hair in a ponytail outside, so that he'd look more
masculine, but indoors Brian wore his hair loose and tousled
around his face. He loved the way it felt, silky soft on his
neck. He loved the way it felt, also, when his Daddy buried
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his hands in it and took his mouth with that long prick. He
licked his lips and swallowed hard at the thought of it.
Paul cleared his throat. "Concentrate, Brian."
Brian flushed again. "Yes, sir."
* * * *
"Good morning."
Brian went right up on his toes and yelped with delight.
"Momma Bear!" He hurtled his entire body at the man who
stood in the middle of the kitchen.
Jim smelled like pine needles and pot. Jim's beard was
trimmed, Brian noticed, snuggling and petting, burying his
face and hands in his Momma Bear as if he could find out
where the man had been just by smell.
Jim chuckled and returned the caresses, giving Brian a big
hug that lifted him off his toes. The embrace led to a kiss and
then Brian was against the wall, Jim urgently grinding against
him.
"Maybe you should take that to the bedroom," said an
amused voice behind them. Paul stood in the doorway, boxers
and wet hair, towel in hand. "Welcome back, Jim."
And then Brian and Jim were on the waterbed, rolling,
Brian's hands seeming to move without conscious thought,
stripping that big body and grasping that thick prick.
Jim moaned and arched back, big sacks tightening already.
From the nightstand, he grabbed a condom packet and ripped
it open.
"Let me." Brian snatched it from him, peeling his shorts off
and jumping on the bed. "You just lie there."
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He slid the condom down over Jim's cock and then, with
little preparation, lowered himself down as well. Jim was so
hard; that fat cock was like a marble post. Jim laid back,
arms and legs spread, and moaned.
Brian had forgotten how wide Jim could spread him, how
good it burned. He panted and rocked, digging in his nails,
and remained there even when Jim shuddered all over like a
fucking earthquake, wailing, and came.
Still seated there, Brian could feel that thick penis still half
hard inside him. He began stroking himself, other hand
painting lazily through the hair on Jim's chest.
"I missed you, Momma," he whispered.
Jim's eyes opened to dark slits. He watched Brian, his
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