Best Gay Erotica 2014 (25 page)

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Authors: Larry Duplechan

BOOK: Best Gay Erotica 2014
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“Hey, you got any of that beer left?” Hank asked as he lifted his shirt to wipe the sweat from his forehead, exposing his furry belly to Burke's hungry eyes.

Burke's mouth went dry and suddenly the thought a cold beer for fortification sounded good. “Sure. Coming right up,” he said quickly as he headed for the kitchen.

Burke was shaking slightly as he returned to the second bedroom that he was using as an office. When he got to the door of the new office with the two beers, he stopped dead in his tracks. Hank was standing there without the shirt. He was using the balled up tank top to mop his hairy armpits.

Hank looked up and saw Burke standing in the doorway, his mouth slightly open. Hank turned to face Burke.

Burke's eyes widened as he took in the muscular hairy man, muscles flexing as he moved. Although he was slightly taller than Hank, Hank probably outweighed him by at least thirty pounds, most of it muscle.

“Is one of those beers for me?” Hank asked, as he slowly walked toward Burke, a sly smirk on his face.

Not trusting his voice, Burke just stuck out one of his hands, holding a cold beer. Hank walked up to Burke and took the beer,
his eyes never leaving Burke's. Burke could smell the peppery natural scent of Hank, making his head swim. He felt glued to the spot as he watched Hank lift the green glass bottle to his full lips. Hank took a long drink of the cold beer, their eyes locked. With Hank's arm lifted, his smell became that much more intense, especially since he was only standing six inches or so from Burke.

Burke took a step back, more to recover his balance than to get away from Hank. He was feeling light headed, off balance, as if he would fall over backward if he didn't regain his equilibrium.

“Somethin' the matter, Burke?” Hank asked as he propped his other arm up against the door frame, his hand shoulder level. Hank's peppery scent, tinged with a slight hint of lemon, hit Burke full force, like a slap. As if Hank's smell wasn't enough, his deep baritone voice, vibrating Burke's chest as he spoke, was the knockout punch. Hank's eyes were drilling into Burke's very being, and he felt his knees go weak. Burke could feel his mouth opening and closing, but no sound was coming out. He tried to take another step back, but his feet got tangled up in the strapping from one of the furniture boxes. With the beer in one hand, and nothing to really grab on to, Burke started falling backward. Hank reached out to try to catch him, but it was too late. Burke hit the floor, the beer bottle went flying behind him, the two dogs barking wildly, as he landed with a hard thump on the floor.

“Oh shit!” Hank was next to Burke's sprawled body in an instant. “Man, you okay?”

Burke was looking up at the ceiling, his pride hurt more than his body.

“Yeah, I'm fine,” Burke grumbled, pissed at himself.

“Hey, Burke, I'm sorry man.” Hank said, looking worried.
“I shouldn't have left all that trash out in the middle of the floor. I wasn't thinking.”

“Don't worry about it, Hank,” Burke grunted as he stood up. “I'm a natural klutz.”

“You sure you're okay, man?” Hank had concern written all over his face.

“Yeah, yeah. I'll be fine,” Burke grimaced as he saw the near empty beer bottle lying on the floor behind him. “Let me get that cleaned up.”

“I can get it,” Hank started.

“No, no…I can get it,” Burke said as he went to the kitchen to get some paper towels.

“Okay,” Hank sighed. “I've almost got this last bookshelf put together, but I'll need to you hold this door while I get the hinges in place.”

“Sure, I'll be right there,” Burke answered as he mopped up the spilt beer.

“The party is tomorrow night,” Hank said screwing in the hinges as Burke held the door in place. “You're gonna be there, right?”

“Hank, I don't know,” Burke started. “I won't know anyone there but you, and it's your birthday party.”

“Burke, you gotta be there, man,” Hank stopped, looking at Burke. “I really want you there. I can introduce you around.”

There was a look in Hank's eyes that made Burke unable to say no. “Okay, Hank. I'll be there.”

“Cool.” Hank smiled his killer smile, making Burke immediately regret saying yes.

“I bought some more furniture and they're delivering it tomorrow, and I'm not sure what time they'll get here,” Burke explained as Hank finished putting the door on the cabinet.

“I'm sure they'll be done before the party,” Hank said as he
tested the door. “The party doesn't start until seven.”

“What do I need to bring?” Burked asked as he watched the still half-naked Hank put his tools away.

“Not a thing man. I got everything covered.” The hairy man spoke through the material of his tank top as he pulled it back over his head. “It's casual, so just jeans, okay?”

“Okay, Hank,” Burke said, but cringed inwardly. I'll be there.”

“Cool.” Hank beamed.

If he only knew what that smile did to me
, Burke thought,
he would probably bash my head in
.

“Can I pay you for all this?” Burke indicated with his hand at all the stuff that Hank had put together.

“Naw, man,” Burke scowled. “I may need some help with my computer next week. I'm supposed to be able to tap into the office's system to input purchase orders and stuff, and I'm not having any luck getting in.”

“Sure,” Burke said, finally on secure footing. “I can help with that.”

“Good enough then,” Hank said. “We'll call it even.”

“Okay,” Burke smiled, feeling much better at being able to reciprocate in some way.

“See ya tomorrow night then, buddy,” Hank grabbed Burke in a one armed hug and then was out the door.

Once Hank had left the apartment, Burke put his head against the door, his eyes closed. “Holy mother of god,” he whispered.

Sparky barked as in agreement.

“Yep, Sparky,” Burked looked at the terrier sitting on the floor looking back at him. “I'm so screwed.”

“Hey, come on in,” said a man who was, well, almost Hank.

“Um…thanks,” Burke stammered.

“Yeah, we get that a lot,” the man said with a laugh. “Hank and I are brothers, but not twins. I'm the older and better-looking one,” the
not twin
brother of Hank said as he extended his hand. “I'm Jack.”

“Nice to meet you, Jack,” he said, accepting Jack's hand. “I'm Burke.”

“Ah, the new neighbor.” Jack nodded, surprising Burke.

“Um, yeah.” Burke lifted the twelve-pack of Heineken, a silent question as to where to put the beer.

“Just stick that in the fridge—if you can find room, that is.” Jack smiled Hank's killer smile. “Hank! You got comp'ny,” Jack yelled out over the noise, closing the door behind Burke.

“Hey, you made it,” Hank exclaimed, surprising Burke with a bear hug.

“Hey,” Burke said, hesitantly. “I brought a little something,” he said, handing the beer to Hank.

“Thanks! Let's see if there's room in the fridge,” Hank said, wrapping his big furry arm round Burke's shoulder. “If not, I've got a cooler on the balcony we can put it in.” Burke could do nothing but go along.

Once in the kitchen, Hank pushed his way through the crowd of people toward the refrigerator.

“Hey, Ma,” Hank said, hip-bumping an older woman in khaki slacks with salt-and-pepper hair. As she turned, there was no mistaking that she and Hank were related. “I want you to meet Burke. Burke, this is my mom.”

“Very nice to meet you, Mrs. Staunton,” Burke said.

“And it is very nice to meet you as well, Burke,” she replied, a warm smile on her still-pretty face.

“And I'm Bitsy,” a slender blonde woman interjected, as she pushed her way forward, her hand extended palm side down. “I'm an old friend of the family.”

Burke noticed Hank's face go stiff, his smile suddenly forced.

“It's nice to meet you, too, Bitsy.” Burke could tell instantly that he didn't like this bleached blonde. If he was correct, that wasn't the only thing that wasn't natural about this woman—her boobs and nose, for starters.

Bitsy's smile was as put-on as her makeup, Burke decided, as she wrapped her arm around Hank's waist, not unlike an anaconda.

“Ah-hum.” An older man cleared his throat behind Hank's mother.

“Oh, and this is my dad,” Hank introduced Burke, his smile looking genuine again.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Staunton.” Burke smiled at the warm eyes that matched Hank's.

“Same here, young man.” Mr. Staunton smiled back, a twinkle in his eyes as he glanced at Hank.

Hank was able to turn out of the snake's grip that Bitsy had on him. “This is my sister Amanda,” he said, hugging the female version of himself, “and my sister-in-law, Jack's wife, Heather.” He kissed the cheek of a woman whose headful of curly red hair reminded Burke of a Raggedy Ann doll—in a good way.

Amanda stepped between Bitsy and Hank, extending her hand. “It is
very
nice to meet you, Burke. Hank hasn't stopped talking about you.”

Burke couldn't help but blush and notice the slight scowl that flashed briefly over Bitsy's face. “It is nice to meet you all.”

“Come, Burke,” Mrs. Staunton said taking Burke's arm. “Let's get you something to drink. I understand that this is a joint birthday party?” Mrs. Staunton led Burke toward the balcony.

“I don't know about joint, but today is my birthday,” Burke hesitantly admitted.

“Then it
is
a joint party,” the older woman confirmed, smiling up at Burke.

As the party progressed, Burke noticed that at no time was he not talking with one member or another of Hank's family. There were others he was introduced to; Hank's coworkers and his or his family's other assorted friends. It was during this time that he found out that it was a family business, and that all of them worked for Knoll construction.

Burke had to admit that he was having a good time at the party, even if he was embarrassed when they all sang happy birthday to both him and Hank, insisting that he take part in blowing out the candles on the huge cake with Hank.

When Burke excused himself to go to the restroom, he overheard Bitsy talking to Hank.

“So you're telling me that you'd rather be with that fucking faggot than with
me
!”

“That's exactly what I'm telling you Bitsy,” Burke heard Hank say angrily.

“But we were so good together, Hank,” Bitsy whined.

“That was thirteen years ago, Bitsy.” Hank sounded more exasperated now. “We were in high school, and I was confused. I'm gay, Bitsy. It's time you accepted it and got over it.”

“I can make you…” she started.

“No, Bitsy, you can't,” Hank said, angry again.

“Fine then.” Bitsy's voice turned acid. “If you want to go be a cocksucking faggot, go right ahead, but just you wait. Wait until all the guys at work find out you like sucking dick!”

“Miss Dawson,” Burke heard another man's voice. “You say one word to anyone and you will find yourself not only unemployed but I will have to have a serious talk with your father. I don't think he would be very pleased that his daughter has been fired from the construction company that contracts his
heating-and-air company.” He realized the voice was Hank's father's.

Suddenly, the partially open door swung open exposing Burke as Bitsy exited the room. Spotting Burke she said, “Fucking faggot,” as she pushed past him.

Hank's and Burke's eyes met.

“I think you two need to talk,” Mr. Staunton said, grinning as he also saw Burke. “Excuse me.”

“You're…” Burke choked before he could finish what he started to say.

Hank grabbed Burke by the arm, pulling him into the bedroom and closing the door.

“I've been trying to tell you, but I didn't know how,” Hank said. “I was trying to yesterday, but when you fell…”

“You scared the shit out of me,” Burke said, his voice squeaking.

“Are you scared now?”

“Yes.”

“Don't be.” Hank took Burke's head, his hands on either side, and slowly pulled him into a kiss. It was slow and tender, with both of their eyes wide open.

Hank ended the kiss, still looking into Burke's eyes. “Still scared?” Burke shook his head no.

“Good,” Hank said, and smiled before pulling him back into another kiss, this one not so tender.

Hank slid his arms around Burke's waist, pulling him closer as his tongue pushed into Burke's mouth. Hank's fat wet tongue delved into the recesses of Burke's mouth, taking him, demanding participation.

Burke's body responded as if waking from a long hibernation, instincts taking over. He grabbed Hank's head in his hands and smashed his mouth onto those lips that he had lusted over, quickly dominating the kiss, his hips grinding into Hank's.

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