WIP – Archives

This is a little different then my Friday post on April Kelley’s blog as I’m going to show use a little about the things I was working on before I went into MM – saying this it means there will def be some female parts (maybe a LOT of them, especially early on)

Anyway, I decided to do this for a little holiday treat. Hope you enjoy

Apology: this is an OLD file, well before I learned anything other than just writing. So you may find sentences that don’t finish, or quite make sense, and I apologies in advance for that. I did not re-read the story before posting.

Title: Straight With A Gay Kink

Pairing: M/M

Last modified: 14/Nov/2013

“Holly fuck, man, can you two take your lovey dovey shit elsewhere.”

“Jealous?” Cater shot back, his tone, and attitude that of someone who was pissed and lashing back.

“God no. I, unlike you two it would seem, have these brilliant things called balls. But more so I know what they’re made for, and being a cute lesbian couple aint that.”

“Fuck you Dave,” Cater again, this time his hip cock into his arm, as he fully faced his lovers best mate.

“Classy,” he smiled back. Fuck, it was easy. Easy to get Cater all worked up. Easy to deflect words that were so turn it hurt Dave’s inside.

Yeah, he was jealous. Not of the lovey crap his best mate and his lover were into, really, that was to chocolaty sweet it gave anyone within a mile of them a toothache. But the love. God those two were in love. The type of love that couldn’t be broken, kinda love. Now, that, defiantly something he wanted for himself. But, hell if he was going to give Cater the pleasure of ever knowing that. Especially not in this type of situation.

Jack laughed, wrapping his arms around Cater’s waist and pulling the man towards him. Legs bracket hips, chest met back. chin on shoulder, it was almost as cute as the noise rubbing they’d been giving each other before, but at least this time there was an actual world outside the two of them.

“I always am,” Cater snapped back at Dave, though the words were dulled slightly from the fact that he just couldn’t keep that type of hot air when Jack held onto him. it made there domestics interesting, if you wanted a free show. Not that Jack practically wanted to see his friends junk used that way, but too drunk to move was the only reason he didn’t get off the lounge as soon as the first insult came out of Caters mouth.

“Leave him be,” Jack stage whispered to Cater, “He’s never been in love.”

Cater’s head tilted slightly to the side, and he was lost again, floating in a sea by himself, for all those knew.

“That’s kinda sad.”

And it just got better, he was now being spoken about, while sitting right here, as well as adding to their fucking scene. Yeah, him.

More importantly who was Jack to say he’d never been in love. Dave had been madly in love with someone. He still was, though he was slowly getting over the infatuation—at least that’s what he said, but still, here he was, hanging with couples because they were drinking in a pub he worked at.

“So, whose torch you holding?” Rabbit said on the other side of the bar. Dave blinked he hadn’t realised he’d gotten up and walked away from the scene he started.

“Huh?”

“Yeah, which of those to you want for yourself?”

Huh? That didn’t even make sense.          

“Come on, you’re hear every time they are, causing trouble.”

Dave smiled over at Rabbit, “Nah, it’s just fuck riling Cater up, and I’ve already seen both there arses, didn’t care for either.”

“What?”

“I live with Jack.” Which should answer any question, but from the look on Rabbit’s face, it hadn’t. “I was to drunk one night to go to my room when they started bitching at each other. Ended up getting the whole show.”

“Ah…. I wouldn’t think Jack would look all that bad under his attire.”

What?! Dave wasn’t sure what of that comment supposed him the most. Rabbit, the male of all males complimenting another dude, or that he had used such an old arsed word. But worse was the red that started burning in his stomach at the fact that the man Rabbit was complimenting wasn’t him.

“Attire?”

Rabbit blushed slightly, “It’s an appropriate word.”

“Yeah, in a knitting club, maybe. In the fifties.”