Page 7 of Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang Us, Daddy

Bennet pulls into the driveway, parking our shared neon-green Volkswagen Beetle. Nate’s truck is in the garage. He’s home! I’m hopping up and down in my seat, just trying to shake off some of the excitement. I can’t wait to get inside and tell him everything that happened on our first day. He needs to know all of it. The way I rearranged our desk to make it pretty. How I wandered around the lower levels of the agency’s unnecessary labyrinth and got lost in the confusing maze of halls and walls. Most of all, Nate needs to know how he guided me back from an oncoming storm earlier. How my fear simply faded when Bennet reminded me Nate was wearing my cum.

I unhook my seat belt and reach for the door, but pause before opening it. Turning around, I eyeball Bennet. He’s staring ahead at the open garage, looking mentally drained. It’s been so long since we’ve had a job, I know he has to be tired. Even if all we did was sit behind a desk and chit-chat for most of our shift,it was in a new setting, and neither of us is good with change. His hand is on the center console, and he startles when I place mine on top.

“I love you, Bennet,” I tell him, because I do, and it looks like he needs to hear it.

“I love you, too, baby,” he says, his voice light and low. Leaning across the console, I give him a close-mouthed peck on the lips. Usually, that’s a line we don’t cross. It’s not that I’m opposed to the idea of kissing his lips, it just feels strange, because he’s the closest thing to a brother I’ve got. We work well together with another man acting as a buffer. That’s why I need to find us a Daddy. Without one, who are we to each other? I don’t get to watch him suck our Daddy’s cock as I stroke his hair, telling him how well he’s doing. He doesn’t get to rest at my side, holding my hand as Daddy fucks me mercilessly, just the way I like it. It’s like we’re two rusty nails waiting for a board to hammer ourselves into. Well, I guess in this analogy, the wood would be the piece doing the nailing, but that’s not really the point.

“Do you want to jack off tonight?” It’s been a few days for both of us, and I’ve missed that connection. Him and me, side by side, holding each other’s hands as we stroke ourselves. It’s one of my favorite things in the world, because it’s in those moments I know I’m home. We were already bonded as besties when we discovered masturbation, and since then—aside from the time the monster kept us apart—every load we’ve ever shot has been together.

“If you want,” he says, leaning back against the headrest.

“Okay. Yeah, I want to.” I give him another quick kiss, this time on the cheek, before opening the door and hopping out of the car. I move my hand to shut the door, only to remember I forgot my phone in the cup holder. When I look over myshoulder to ask Bennet to grab it for me, his eyes are locked on my butt.

His eyes flicker up yo mine, and a blush spreads through his cheeks. He’s got the same look on his face he does after being fucked into submission, and I quickly realize just how much I’ve missed seeing him lost in a lusty headspace.

“Will you grab my phone?” I finally ask, snapping him back to reality. He blinks a few times before slowly climbing out of the car with my phone snug in his hand. I can grab it later. Right now, Nate needs to know everything about our day, so I run through the garage and into the kitchen.

The house smells incredible! Nate didn’t mention cooking tonight, so I just assumed he’d grab something for us on the way home. He’s standing at the stove, cutting his meatloaf into bread-shaped portions. His meatloaf is probably my favorite thing in the world. Well, my second favorite thing in the world, at least. Top billing will always go to his ass in the pajamas he wears around the house. I don’t think he realizes just how much of himself is on display when he wears them. His cock bounces with each step he takes, making my hole twitch endlessly in anticipation. He’s got them on now, and it takes every ounce of my self-control to refrain from reaching around and sliding my hand beneath the fabric.

I love the way he looks from behind. Not just his perky ass, either, although sonnets could be written to chronicle that work of art. No, more than that, I like the way his love handles spill over the sides. The ring of light brown hair that circles his head, surrounding his bald scalp. That landing strip of smooth skin down the center of his head is just begging to be kissed. Sure, he’d probably look even cuter if he shaved the hair on the sides, but I love Nate just the way he is. He doesn’t have to change himself for me. Not when I already adore the landscape.

He’s singing another ‘90s song as I approach. I love how much he loves old-school pop. The house is constantly buzzing with bops from yesteryear. This evening, he’s singing out that he’s a bitch and lover and someone’s child and a mother, but he’s a guy, so the words don’t make much sense. Doesn’t matter. He can identify as anything, and I’ll love him regardless.

I press my chest against his back, wrapping my arms around his waist, enjoying the way his soft tummy feels against my palm. The first thing I smell is woodsy cologne. I don’t know what this stuff is made out of, but it’s like sandalwood and spice and everything nice. He sets down the knife he’s been using to slice the meatloaf and rests his hand over mine, holding me close against him.

“Hey,” I whisper, wanting to pucker my lips and kiss his shoulder. God. Why does he have to feel so freaking good against me? It’s like he’s been form-fitted, just for me. And if he fits me like a glove, I know he’ll fit Bennet too, considering all my clothes fit him perfectly. Bennet just has to allow himself to have this.

“Hey, baby boy,” he says, squeezing my hand. “How was your day?” His voice sounds a little scratchier than normal.

“Good. Are you okay? Your voice sounds a little rough.”

He squeezes my hand. “I think I might be coming down with a cold. You might not want to stand too close.”

I tighten my grip, because no illness or plague could keep me away from this man. “Not worried. This hug’s worth a thousand colds.”

He looks over his shoulder and smiles at me. I just want to latch my lips on top of his and suck for all I’m worth. Since I’m not a feral beast, I contain myself, but it’s a well-fought battle. He looks up, his gaze fixed behind me. He holds his other arm out for Bennet, but Bennet doesn’t make a move. Just stands there staring at us.

“I missed you, buddy,” he says. “It’s okay, Bennet. I’m not going to bite. Promise.”

Bennet’s eyes flick back and forth between Nate and me before he finally relents. Bennet shuffles forward until he’s standing in front of us. Nate brings Bennet’s hand to his lips and presses a kiss on top. For anyone else, the action might seem romantic in nature, but I don’t think he even realizes the depths of his feelings yet, so it’s just a natural action of reassurance.

Other people might think I’m dumb—and maybe I am, in some aspects—but not when it comes to matters of the heart. It’s in the way he looks at us. The fire that flashes in his eyes when he catches us walking out of the bathroom in only our skin-tight briefs tells me all I need to know.

“May I have a hug, Bennet?” he asks, his voice hopeful. “Would that be okay?” To my surprise, Bennet gives me a quick look, and then he steps forward, awkwardly standing with his arms at his sides, allowing the three-way hug to happen. The man of my dreams has one arm around me and another around the other half of my soul.My Bennet. Bennet and I are wearing our half-heart lockets, and it feels like the cool metal is humming against my chest.

We’re nuzzled up close, leaving no room between us. My lips part, and I give Bennet a quick kiss on the neck. God. He trembles like he might come undone at any second. Yeah. He definitely needs to shoot a load tonight. So do I, because I’m already half-hard from the embrace.

“I missed you, boys,” Nate says, his voice warm like cashmere and milky tea. I want to cuddle in his lap and swallow every sound his voice can make. I want to know them by heart. What he sounds like when he’s lost in pleasure. The way he whimpers when he finds his release. I’ve been fighting off an unwanted erection all day, knowing he’s got my cum on him. Unless he’s washed it away.

Oh, God. Did he? Why does the thought of him removing my semen from his skin make me feel like someone’s just stolen the only happiness I’ve ever known? I need to know it’s still there. It has to be, because he promised. He swore it.

“Nate?” I whisper, earning a kiss to the forehead. His lips are slick, leaving me a little party favor once he retreats. I wipe my forehead, wanting to feel his saliva on my palm. A forget-me-not from the man I love.

“Yeah?”

“You didn’t wash me off, did you? My cum, I mean. Is it still there?”

“Find out for yourself.” His hand finds mine, and he guides me to his hip. Lifting the tail of his shirt with his pinkie, I’m given the sight of my dust-dry load, now flaking down from his skin like slutty snowfall.

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