IT HAD been such a fucked-up day, Bran wondered how he’d made it this far. He had even taken a cab instead of going to the Garnett MARTA station. Usually it wasn’t a big deal; the commute was what it was, and he was used to it. Right now, after having worked from six in the morning until four in the afternoon, he was ready to spend money he didn’t really have to get away from downtown as soon as possible. The endlessly stretching shifts were typical these days; even though they were supposed to last eight hours, tops, he had yet again spent ten hours at the Trinity Shelter to finish things up.
Today it hadn’t even been vampires that caused the trouble. No, it was a human, a middle-aged, drunken human at that. A woman who was at least five inches shorter than Bran’s own five foot ten had tried to push him around, insisting she was young enough to stay at the shelter, which only allowed teenagers. Pushing Bran was something no vampire would do, not for any reason. They knew better than to touch Bran, for which he was both extremely happy and constantly annoyed for completely contradicting reasons, ones he preferred not to think about.
This drunken woman—Bran wasn’t going to call her a lady—had pushed his shoulder so hard she had almost sent him down a flight of stairs. Not only that, but when he instinctively grabbed her jacket to balance himself, she shrieked bloody murder and really pushed him. Luckily, that time it wasn’t toward the nearby stairs, because that would have certainly meant fractured bones.
He paid for the cab and winced when he got up from the backseat. Jesus, his hip was killing him. The impact with the side table in the hallway hadn’t been as bad as a tumble down the stairs to the basement, but it was sure as hell was worse than hitting a wall instead. He limped toward the apartment building and marveled at the fact that his boss and colleague, Sheila, had told him to come in late the next morning. That was good—at least he’d get proper rest tonight. He’d need it tomorrow evening after work. It was one of the “Guys’-Night-Out” Fridays tomorrow, and he really needed to blow off some steam.
In the elevator, he leaned against the wall, and Mrs. Chenoweth from the third floor frowned at him when she stepped inside from the second floor. It was too big a building to know everyone who lived there, but Mrs. Chenoweth had once been a stage actress, and she’d never let anyone forget that. She’d been in one of her secret meetings with her so-called secret lover, another wealthy widower living in the building.
“Afternoon, Mrs. C,” Bran said politely.
“Brandon.” She nodded, the frown lessening a little.
That was all they had time for before the doors dinged at her floor and she toddled away. Bran let his eyes close, only to be startled by the ding when the elevator stopped at the sixth floor. He dragged himself out of the too-fancy-for-an-elevator box and walked to the left side of the hallway and the door marked 605.
Bran unlocked the door and stepped in.
“Honey, I’m home!” he called out and kicked his boots off.
By the time he was hanging his leather jacket on the coatrack by the door, there was an enthusiastic little sound, and when he turned around, he got an armful of grinning blond.
“Was it bad?” Kris asked him after hugging him and kissing him soundly on the lips.
“Yeah, watch my hip,” Bran said, gasping softly when the younger man accidentally poked the bruised area.
“Okay, sorry. We need to take a look at that. Who was it this time and are you hurt anywhere else?” Kris asked in a worried tone, one Bran knew well enough by now.
Kris was the one who worried the most, even though he was also the most levelheaded of the people closest to Bran.
“First of all, shower. Then food. Then whatever you want to do with it.” Bran headed toward the bathroom instead of the open kitchen area on the opposite side of the luxurious apartment.
Kris took Bran’s hand and smiled in a way that made Bran feel like it was him who was ten years younger than the other man, instead of the other way around. He was being placated and he knew it.
“Sorry…. It was just a really long day,” he sighed and ran his fingers through his messy dark-brown hair.
“It’s okay, honey.” Kris smiled and left him to strip next to the hamper while he went to put on the steam Bran loved so much.
“Are you joining me?” Bran asked, smirking and suddenly coming up with all sorts of things Kris could do to make him feel much better.
“Of cour—holy shit!” Kris’s grin turned into a grimace when he took in the damage on Bran’s hip.
“Oh… it colored even more during the drive here.” Bran stretched himself to take a better look at his whole hip, now a bruised dark purple.
“I’ll say….” Kris stripped off his T-shirt and lounge pants before stepping into the shower after Bran. “Let me take care of you….”
Bran stood in the steam for a while, enjoying the smooth glide of Kris’s hands over his chest and stomach. Then Kris stepped behind Bran and began to knead his sore muscles, eliciting the dirtiest moans from Bran.
After a while, Bran realized he had only so much time before he’d want to sit down, and he’d prefer to do it on the couch or at least at the booth-like table in the kitchen. He turned on the water and stayed still while Kris used some lovely mild citrus bodywash and even washed Bran’s hair for him with Kris’s own shampoo.
By the time Bran was clean, relaxed, and ready to step out of the shower, he felt Kris’s hands slide down his chest with purpose. He opened his eyes to blink at the blond suddenly kneeling in front of him. Kris looked up at him with clear challenge in his pretty blue eyes. Bran stepped back a little, leaned against the wall, and smiled lazily. Kris grinned and followed him on his knees.
It really didn’t take long for him to get going, watching the lightly muscled young man at his feet, feeling the very talented mouth on his cock and fingers teasing his perineum when they weren’t expertly rolling his balls.
“Fuck…. Either you’re a genius—” Bran gasped as his hips decided to ignore his commands to stay still. “Or I’m too fucking easy….”
At the exact moment he groaned, jerked his hips forward, and shot his release into Kris’s mouth, the bathroom door opened and a gorgeous older man stepped in.
“I thought I heard you come in,” the newcomer said through the glass. His expression was amused as he leaned against the counter behind him. “You about done? I ordered Chinese.”
“Almost there,” Kris, who was now furiously jerking his own cock, gasped.
Bran felt come hit his leg and smiled at the sight of the flushed blond trying to gather his breath.
“What the hell happened to your hip?” the salt-and-pepper-haired man asked in a tone that was very clearly both upset and disapproving. He held out a towel for Bran.
Bran stepped into his arms and sighed contentedly. “It’s nothing, Ric. Some drunken woman pushed me against a table.” He hummed, trying to hold onto the relaxed feeling.
“Bran….” Ric stopped before he could give the usual safety-first speech. Bran assumed Kris had shot the older man a hard look.
“Can I have a kiss instead of a lecture?” Bran asked, hating the small wince he was unable to hide as he moved to grab another towel for his hair.
Ric rolled his eyes but leaned down to kiss him gently, licking Bran’s lips before giving him a proper kiss.
There was a moan from behind Bran, and both of them smiled into the kiss before pulling apart.
“Fine, you get one too.” Ric pulled Kris to his chest while Bran stepped away to dry his hair.
Bran smiled, watching the others make out like teenagers. They were an oddly suitable couple, against all odds. Ric was young at almost fifty, and Kris was an old soul for a twentysomething. Most of the time you couldn’t tell who was older in spirit or how big their age difference really was. Bran and Ric had broken up a little over two years ago, and Bran was glad that Ric had found someone like Kris not long after. The fact that they both loved Bran and Bran loved them was a plus. They would never work as a ménage relationship, but they had fun in bed occasionally. Ric and Bran’s ship had sailed long ago, and the three of them had an understanding that made it possible to stretch their friendship into something more physical when they wanted or—like today—needed it.
The distinct sound of the door buzzer interrupted the make-out session, and Ric went to get their food. Kris headed to the master bedroom to get dressed, and Bran walked to the guest room that was more or less officially his room, despite him having his own—well, it was rented from Ric, but still—house in Candler Park.
It was good that he had clothes here; he would have hated to put his grimy work clothes back on. Instead he grabbed fresh underwear and a T-shirt before pulling on some clean—designer, because they were an old birthday present from Ric—jeans he took from the dresser drawer.
He found the others in the kitchen, eating at the booth that was large enough for all of them. There was a longneck in front of the empty seat, and Bran grinned as he sat down. They stayed mostly quiet while they ate, the only words exchanged about bartering for food—”What will you give me for an extra spring roll?” When Bran was finally full and most of the food had vanished from the table, their collective sigh of contentment made them crack up.
“Let me guess,” Bran said as he pointed a finger at Kris, “you were studying.” Then he pointed at Ric. “And you were doing some weird thing at your computer?”
“Oh yes.” Ric stretched, and Bran could almost hear his joints popping.
“How about I’ll clean up here and you two go and pick a movie to watch?” Kris got up and began to gather the empty containers.
“I was going to go—”
“Nope. Movie,” Ric said firmly, and that was that.
The older men walked into the media room that was in some ways better than going to a movie theater. The screen wasn’t that big, but it was still massive in the room, and the sound system was great too. The bonus side was that there were no kids, no cell phones, and nobody would be chatting. There weren’t tall people blocking the view, either.
“Are we counting on Kris getting bored?” Bran asked as he took his usual seat in one of the comfortable plush chairs.
“Oh yes….” Ric’s tone was a purr that made Bran chuckle.
They had done this countless times, and Kris was onto them for sure, but it seemed like the whole idea worked like a charm. When Kris got bored during a movie, he would fidget first. Then he’d pick a target—either Ric or Bran—and slide to the floor to find something more fun to do. Like giving a blowjob, whether it was asked for or not. After that, it was mostly trying to watch a movie while you were getting or watching someone else get a blowjob right next to you. More often than not, the movie would be forgotten and they’d head to the master bedroom, either all three of them or some other combination.
The thing was, while Bran played with Ric and Kris, he wasn’t part of their relationship. He could just as easily leave the others to it and go home. Tonight it seemed like Ric wanted him to stay, though, so he probably would.
They made a valiant effort to watch a European action movie that was pretty good, until Kris began to twitch.
“Should we just pause this and let the kid out of his misery?” Bran asked, and just like that, his lap was full of blond.
He barely registered Ric shutting down the system, being glued to Kris and his lovely mouth. Hell, the boy knew how to kiss!
“Okay, now, kids, let’s go to the bedroom.” Ric manhandled Kris off Bran’s lap and pulled them both out of the room and down the hall to the huge bedroom. The bed there could have hosted a small-scale orgy, and they always had fun in it.
For a few moments, things turned frantic: kissing, groping, undressing. By some minor miracle, they all managed to get into bed.
Bran lay on his side—the one that didn’t have a bruise the size of his head on the hip—with Kris in front of him, kissing him with the usual abandon. Bran heard Ric fish out some condoms and lube from the nightstand, and then the warmth of another body settled against Bran’s back.
“This okay?” Ric asked, carefully rubbing Bran’s thigh below the bruise.
“Yeah.” Bran nodded, pulling his head away from Kris—who immediately latched onto Bran’s nipple—to kiss Ric over his shoulder. He didn’t bottom often, it was something he mostly reserved for Ric, but he needed to lose himself in his lovers today.
They kissed for a moment until Bran groaned at the feel of Ric’s fingers circling his hole and spreading the lube gently. Yeah, it had been a while….
He grabbed the lube and encouraged Kris to turn around. He prepared the wanton blond while Ric prepared him. It always took his breath away a little how synchronized they could be like this. In short order, Ric handed Bran a condom and rolled one on himself. He reveled in the way Ric sounded impatient when he husked, “You first,” into Bran’s ear.
Kris moved his leg up and whimpered as Bran gently guided his cock into the blond’s smaller body. It was so good, so fucking good, to be inside a willing body like this. And when Ric penetrated him, everything got so much better it blew his mind.
And then there he was, rocking back and forth as much as he could, having the others move with him, against him, and bringing forth enough pleasure that Bran’s frantic mind calmed down and overrode the stress of the day for good.
It was like being in a trance, feeling the tight squeeze of Kris’s body and having Ric push into him with precise, measured strokes. The sounds filling the bedroom were intensely erotic, and when one of them—it was unclear which—came first, the others followed in rapid succession, Kris coming all over Bran’s fingers, which were wrapped around his cock.
Some minutes later, enough energy returned to Ric for him to pull out of Bran and then wait for Bran to do the same with Kris. Ric went to take the condoms to the trash and got a washcloth to clean them all up before crawling into bed with them.
Sometimes Bran wondered how much he stayed over for the cuddling afterward.