Wild Card - 7. Let’s Leave Everyone Hanging

Wild Card – Chapter 7 – Let’s Leave Everyone Hanging

Connor stood up to go after Cory, but I was right on him, grabbing his shoulder to pull him back. “What the ever-living-fuck was that?”

“Dude, I have no idea why you’re on my fucking ass.” He shook me off. “But, you need to stand down so I can talk to my brother.”

“You kidding me?” My voice continued to rise as I ranted. “Drive halfway across the motherfucking country, just to tell a guy that his dad fucking hates him and act like it’s a goddamn mercy—which, let me tell you, is beyond sick—then you expect me to let you add on more shit?”

Connor sighed heavily. “I didn’t think he’d take it that hard. He wasn’t supposed to.”

“He got kicked out of his house two days before Christmas, dipshit! How the fuck was he supposed to react?”

“Just let me talk to—”

“Oh yeah, great idea. Let’s send Connor-fucking-Jr. in there, so he can fuck it up again!” Connor opened his mouth to argue, but I cut him off, pointing down at the seat he had vacated. “No, you can sit your happy ass down while I fix him. Again.”

“Who the hell are you anyway?” he yelled.

“I’m the one cleaning up your family’s goddamn mess because y’all couldn’t bother making it out until over a week after the fact!”

“Fuck you, asshole! We had fucking obligations—jobs, family—”

“Yeah, you did a bang-up job on that last one,” I cut in sarcastically. “Maybe if you weren’t so interested in keeping up goddamn appearances, you would have been here when it fucking mattered! Spoutin’ all this bullshit about motherfucking family obligations—no wonder he came to me when shit got bad!”

Connor could only growl inarticulately, and I smirked in triumph.

“Hell, you weren’t kidding about the alpha male thing,” Gio told Keenan. The rest of the guys in the room looked at me and Connor like we’d grown horns or some shit.

“I’m relieved,” Johnny said, “that Cory didn’t inherit his mother’s shit taste in men. Your daddy would have pussied out the moment I stood up.” He sighed. “Sit down, both of you. Damn, Connor, seems like you have your work cut out for you if you’re seriously going to pull the intimidation game on Efrain.” He waited until Connor and I took our seats again. “But, the man’s right, son, we made a goddamn dog’s dinner of this. Let him go calm Cory down. We’ll try this later—without the audience.”

I nodded, placated more by the fact that their uncle said my name correctly than by his admissions, and made to go after my guy.

“’Rain,” Johnny said, halting me. Damn, he even got that pronunciation correct.

“Yeah?”

“Mind if I come with?”

“And if he doesn’t want to talk to you?” I asked.

“We cut the call, and Cory calls me when he’s ready.”

I shrugged. “I can work with that.” I gathered up Caiden’s laptop without bothering to ask permission.

“But, Unc,” Connor protested.

“Dude, just let him go,” Cameron said.

With a terse nod of acknowledgement, I stepped into the hall with their Uncle Johnny on still up on the screen. “I watched your bowl game,” he told me as I walked back. “You got some skills.”

“Thanks.”

“One of the coaches had told a reporter that half your speed gains were so you wouldn’t get out-run by one of the linebackers.”

“Cory,” I said, a small smile curving across my face in spite of myself.

“He’s not as fast as Caiden,” Johnny said. “Or his father, though it pains me to admit it, but the kid can hustle.”

“That he can,” I replied. “Coach still keeps setting him up to sack me at practice.”

“Had to be a blow to your pride.”

“You have no idea.” My chuckles died as I approached our bedroom door. I peeked into the room to make sure he was decent, but found him as I expected to—a Cory-sized mound under the covers. Lola stood on the floor, pawing at the blanket and crying. I know she only wanted his attention, but it still seemed like she was trying to comfort him. I sat on my side of the bed, stretching out my legs and balancing Caiden’s laptop on my thighs. “Hey, acho, talk to me.”

Silently, Cory sat up long enough to curl up with me, resting his head on my shoulder. I doubt he even noticed that I had the computer with me, let alone that his uncle was still on Skype with us. Cory’s cat gave up on her master and instead aimed her need for attention in my direction, climbing up the little ramp Indie made for her out of some leftover carpet and MDF and crawling over to me. Lola settled herself on my stomach, as I rubbed Cory’s shoulder, and then proceeded to swat me with her tail until I scratched behind her ears with my free hand.

“Shit,” his uncle chuckled. “He really did get you a fucking cat.”

That at least got a half-grin out of Cory, and I found myself kissing the top of his head.

“Johnny, meet Lola,” I said, and Cory and I ended up laughing when Johnny starting singing Whatever Lola Wants, Lola Gets off-key in a butch as fuck voice that would give a chronic smoker a run for their money.

“Gwen Verdon in Damn Yankees,” he said. “Your momma loved that movie even when we were kids.”

Cory nodded against my chest. “She still watches all those old Bob Fosse movies on the classic movie channel.” He lifted his hand and began gently stroking the kitten, who purred almost immediately while making the stupidest face I’d ever seen on an animal.

“It suits her.”

“I think so, too,” Cory said.

“Listen, kiddo,” Johnny started. “I’m sorry I freaked you out. I thought it would help you deal if you knew.”

“I know,” Cory said, though I doubt he felt it.

“You’re not losing much with your daddy,” Johnny added.

“But, why couldn’t you’ve told me sooner?”

His uncle scratched the back of his neck nervously. “How do you explain something like that to a little boy?”

“I can see how that’d be hard,” I said.

“And, as you got older, he really did seem like he’d changed for the better. Sure, he and I didn’t always agree on shit.”

“Like when he didn’t want to let us visit with you and Gram?”

Johnny nodded. “When you got to your teens, I chalked it all up to one of those things that was best left forgotten,” he continued. “You looked up to your brothers more, anyway.” Johnny paused and took a deep breath. “You’re hurting right now, and it sucks because I can’t make it better. Your grandmother used to always tell us that ‘time heals all wounds,’ which is not much of a comfort now, but she was right. Give me some time to work my magic. In the meantime, remember that your brothers and I are with you. So is your grandmother and your Aunt Mary and Uncle Raul.”

Tears soaked into my t-shirt as Cory sniffled. I pulled him in tighter.

“And, it looks like you have a lot of people over there who love you just as much.”

Cory nodded against my chest.

“They’ll probably tell you themselves, but the boys brought some more of your things out to you. Go through it, send back anything you don’t need, and I’ll keep the rest with me. Mary and I are going to work with your momma so your financial aid won’t get messed up. Your parents did set aside money for you so you could go to school, just like they did for your brothers, and it’s unfair that your daddy won’t give you the same financial help.”

“Good luck with that,” Cory said bitterly.

“I know it’s hard now, but we’ll make it work.”

“I guess so.”

They talked for a little bit more before we cut the call. I’d closed Caiden’s laptop and was in the middle of putting it to the side when Cory groaned. “Think I could get away with shutting myself in our room for the rest of the day?”

“Don’t think so, gatito,” I said, which made him whine. “Although, I think I have something that’ll buy us some time. Come on.”

“What if they want the laptop back?”

“Good thinking,” I said before grabbing the damn computer. Cory watched as I opened the door long enough to set it on the floor outside and locked the door behind me. I set some music going then took his hand on the way back and pulled him into the bathroom.

“Oh, I see what you’re doing,” Cory chuckled. “God, what is it with you and showers?”

“Whatever,” I shot back. “I have a few harmless kinks—ones that you rather enjoy, if I recall. Now, strip.”

We hammed up a strip tease, throwing clothes every which way on the floor, until the water was warm enough for us to get in. Mentions of kink aside, I hadn’t intended to do anything more than bathe and soak, but things got away from me a little. I was washing his hair, then he started lathering up my chest and making jokes about Japanese “soaplands,” which led to some playful pinching and rubbing.

Next thing you know, we’re both covered in soap suds and getting ourselves off against each other’s stomach, my hands fisted in his hair, his hands pulling my hips into his thrusts. I was giggling between moans about the abundant volume of suds our pubic hair seemed to make when I felt his hand stealing around my hip like I wasn’t going to notice two soapy rogue digits going stealth mode down my ass crack. But, I let Cory play his game, growling when he got bold enough to press that first finger into me, before I struck back.

My tongue plowed into his mouth as I roughly maneuvered him around and pressed his shoulders against the wall. That earned me a throaty chuckle. I trailed my hands down his muscled chest, circling his nipples with two soap-slick thumbs until he gasped in my mouth before continuing along his flank.

Cory, still contentedly thrusting against my crotch and playing with my hole, never saw it coming.

“Oh, fuck!” He came up on his toes with a whine as my two fingers thrust deep. His fingers wrapped around my bicep and dug in when I found his prostate.

I couldn’t help my grin. “Did I say you could stop finger-fucking me?” I punctuated the prompt with my own fingers, and watched his eyes roll back. Cory started whimpering for me, and I knew I had him. His thrusts became as erratic as his breathing.

“Please, don’t stop.”

“Not until you cum for me, mi gatito.”

Cory shivered in my arms, and he sought out my mouth once more. Thick ropes of cum mixed with the soap easing the glide between our bodies, changing the texture as I kept up my thrusts. While Cory’s hips and fingers had stilled their movements, I still held his sensitive, spent cock captive between our bodies, and my fingers continued working his clenching ass. I swallowed his moans and whines, letting them fuel my frenzy until I succumbed to bliss.

~*~*~*~

You know, things were significantly less awkward when it was just Efrain and me (and Laurel whenever she decided to pop in).

Sure, it was just as quiet now, but it was a tense, weird quiet. Preston looked like he was about to cry, which made me really uncomfortable as I had no fucking clue as to what I was supposed to do if he did. I tried putting my hand on his shoulder, which turned out to be a workable solution when he turned and snuggled into me.

That only left the house guests Efrain and Cory had saddled me with. Cameron sat drumming his fingers on the dining room table, while Keenan rocked back on his heels. Connor, clearly impatient to go after his brother, settled for bouncing his knees hard enough to move the table when Caiden held him back.

I looked to Gio, who just shrugged. I still considered him my favorite roommate, despite his inability to offer a solution, since he was the only one who hadn’t brought a fuckton of people into my house and forced me to socialize with them.

Caiden sighed, pulling out his cell phone. “Suppose now would be a good time to look for a hotel for the night.”

Fuck me for my bigass mouth, but I suddenly found myself speaking up.

“We have room, if you want to crash here.” Keenan gave me an odd look, and I just kept on talking. “I have pull-out sofas in the living room and basement. And, Cory doesn’t use his room—that has a decent bed, at least. Might have to share it, though.”

“We brought some air mattresses,” Caiden said with a nod.

“Thanks for the offer, man,” Cameron added. “We really appreciate—”

Connor abruptly stood back up, cutting off his brother. “Fuck this shit! I’m getting my brother.” He stormed off down the hall to Efrain’s bedroom before anyone could call him back. We were blessed with a few moments of silence before he came back all grumbles and curses and tossed Caiden’s laptop down on my dining room table.

“Dude, that’s my fucking work laptop!”

“This is bullshit—the door’s locked and they’re not answering it. Got some EDM shit on in the background, and one of them’s taking a shower.”

An uncomfortable silence settled over the room as each of us waited for someone else to explain to the Cards the significance of Efrain and Cory behind a locked door with the EDM fuckfest soundtrack and the shower going. Somehow I doubted the words “Wolfie’s pounding the hell out of your baby brother’s ass” would go over well with Connor. With how worked up he already was, the man just might bust the door down to pull Efrain off Cory. I thanked whichever higher power that kept Preston contrite enough to remain silent on that score and hoped that said power would continue to favor us by keeping Cory quiet, too.

Unfortunately, Cameron picked that moment to defy the dumb jock stereotype. “I suppose that’s one way to calm him down.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Connor asked.

Cameron gave him what I assumed to be his are you kidding? face as he made peace signs with his hands and tapped them together a few times. Caiden snorted a quick laugh, while Connor glared. “Yo, don’t get pissed at me for spelling out the obvious.”

“Huh?” Gio said.

Keenan leaned over to quietly explain, “This” he repeated Cameron’s gesture “is sign language for fucking. It’s probably the only sign Cammy remembers.”

“Fucking? What do you mean fucking? Son of a— He was supposed to get Cory back out here, not fuck him!” Connor stood back up. “Someone get me a goddamn butter knife—ima fucking jimmy that lock open.”

Preston lifted his head long enough to ask, “Is he always this much of a drama queen?”

Caiden’s mouth quirked up at the corner. “Only when Cory’s involved.”

Cameron turned to Connor with a scowl. “Dude, fucking come off it. Efrain seems like a pretty decent guy, so stop being a dick. If that’s what it takes to put Cory in better mood, then who gives a fuck if they’re going at it?”

At that, Connor plopped back down in the chair with a hard glare for both brothers. He still continued to grumble about Efrain taking advantage of his darling kid brother, while I started cursing Efrain and the oh-so-innocent Cory in my head for leaving me entertaining these guys. Since neither Gio nor Preston seemed to be able to turn the conversation to something safer, I tried to think of a suitable distraction—TV, beer, food, anything.

I clapped my hands maybe a little too brightly, making Connor jump. “Alright, I’m starved. How about lunch?”

The guys followed me to the kitchen amid murmurs of “Sure,” “I could eat,” and “But, we just had breakfast,” and watched as I surveyed the fridge.

“Let’s see…” I started throwing containers up on the counters to get at everything. “We have some sandwich stuff, some salad stuff…”

“What’s that?” Cameron asked, pointing to the plastic container in my hand.

“Leftover coconut curry,” I said, checking the contents.

“Y’all have decent Thai takeout here?” Caiden asked.

“Nope,” Gio said. “More like a live-in chef.”

I shook my head. “More like someone who gets pissy when you make a mess in his kitchen.”

“Efrain made it last night,” Preston said. “From scratch, no less.”

“Opening up a spice packet is not from scratch, little dude,” Connor argued.

Gio pointed out the stainless steel wall panel filled with magnetic canisters of spices. “No, but roasting whole spices and grinding them to make your own blend is.”

“He’s like a chef’s apprentice or something,” Keenan said.

“His mother owns a catering company,” I clarified. “He used to work for her.”

“Cory told me that he’d been cooking with his mother since he was old enough to stand on a footstool,” Preston said, but I shook my head.

“His whole family cooks,” I said. “Lena had all of us in the kitchen helping out the couple times she and Bon came down with Zoe. She made sure all her kids could handle themselves in the kitchen.”

“Although, with Efrain, it ended up being one of those student-exceeding-the-master things,” Preston said.

Cameron came around the side to pick up the container. “Alright, I gotta try this.”

Preston rolled his eyes as Cameron lifted the lid and sniffed at the curry, but still pulled a fork out to hand him before heading to cabinet for a plate. “We can heat some up for you,” he said, but Cameron had already stuffed a forkful in his mouth.

“Goddamn,” he muttered, his eyes widening.

“That bad?” Connor asked as Caiden went to find his own fork and dig in.

Caiden hummed something that sounded like “Dude!” around his first bite, to which Cameron replied something that sounded like “I know, right!” around his second.

“Wouldn’t y’all prefer a bowl?” Gio offered, but it seemed neither of them had heard as the middle brothers continued to eat.

Connor sighed in annoyance and grabbed a fork for himself to dig out his own bite. He shoved it in irritably. His look quickly faded from ire to bewilderment as he scooped up more curry. “Holy fuck!” Cameron and Caiden motioned at him in the almost-universal hand gesture for “see what I mean?!”

“There’s rice if—” Preston tried futilely.

“No-no,” Connor said, waving Preston off with his fork, “this is cool.” He shoveled another bite of cold curry in his face.

Gio mouthed, “What the fuck?” as the brothers noisily demolished Efrain’s leftover curry.

I just shrugged and went back to lunch. “Sandwich, Keenan?”

~*~*~*~