i am a loser who has not been replying to reviews, and i am sorry. i'm trying. i'm also a loser who takes a whole month writing one chapter for one story. :heh: but, i hope this is worth it in some way. i'm thinking there will only be two or three chapters left of this fic, and then i can write the sequel. which isn't so much a sequel as a cross-pollination of the same charas as side charas in someone else's fic. lol

so, this is a long time in coming, and it better be worth it, yah?!

saturday, 4 october, 2008. 12:25 am.

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I gave a sleepy grin that was disrupted when I felt him slide away and out of bed, waking me up enough to turn and stare. He caught sight of my gaze and grinned past the dampness on his cheeks; “Putting out the light.” Before doing that, he went over and rechecked the locks on the door, making sure everything was secure before returning to the bed and turning out the light, sliding back into place and grabbing me firm. I didn’t mind it, settling down into exhausted sleep without realizing it.

-- -- -- (chapter begins)

I was slow to drift awake, gradually becoming aware of low television noise and the fact that my back was hot from laying on it too long. Shifting to a cooler patch of mattress, I realized I was alone in bed, my eyes blearing open with uncommon reluctance.

I reached up and rubbed at some of the gum along my eyelid; “Damn….”

“Hey, awake?”

Drew’s voice came from my right-hand side, and I turned my head and looked at him; “Guess so. Wha’ time s’it?”

“Mm…just a bit after nine.”

I frowned, rubbing my other eye; I never sleep so late.

“No more nights of debauchery for me,” I solemnly teased, and heard him snicker before he invaded my personal space by sitting on the bed with me.

“How you doing?”

I understood his underlying question and offered a shrug; “Bit sore, s’all.”

“Oh good, you won’t mind dragging your lazy ass from bed so we can go eat. I’ve been starving since eight.”

I groaned and yanked the blanket from beneath his ass, pulling it over my head and turning onto my stomach.

“Hey! You little shit, I don’t think so!”

Drew attacked me through the cover and I squirmed before bursting into rusty laughter made thick from sleep--he managed to wrestle the blanket off my head and I settled into a contented position, eyes closed against the pillow.

“Sunshine, get up, they close the thing at ten.”

“Ngh, ‘thing’?”

He ignored my snarky comment and prodded the side of my neck, making me curl up even as he drew the blanket down my shoulders and further down my back.

“…Jesus, Michael, what’s this?!”

I frowned, turning my head but not able to see anything but a corner of his horrorstruck expression.

“What?”

“This!”

He traced fingers down a long and twisted white line that ran alongside my spine before curving around my side, and I relaxed.

“Remember that fence I tol’ ya about?”

“The one you were stuck under?”

“Mm-hm. I went under belly down, ya know.”

“…Good god. You’re a stubborn jackass, you know that.”

I nodded, and he snickered, rubbing a palm down the jagged scar.

“You know, you saw my back last night,” I reminded.

“Wasn’t looking at your back,” he unabashedly admitted, and I laughed, finally turning over and pushing my way upright. When I tried to struggle past him and out of bed, a tanned forearm snaked around my middle and dragged me back to his solid form, my bare ass pressing against his denim jeans.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

My tone was light, but his voice was silky against the shell of my ear as he murmured, “You tempt me to touch you.”

I snorted; “Yah, all well and good, but I’ve gotta piss like a horse, Drew, n’your arm ain’t making it better.”

He released me like a hot poker, and I snickered as I pushed from the bed and crossed the room naked, ensconcing myself into the bathroom and sighing as I finally emptied my bladder.

Emerging from the bathroom, I ran a hand over my mussed hair; “You said what closes at ten?”

“Continental breakfast.”

“Alright.”

His eyes followed me as I shuffled over to my bag and dug through its contents for a clean shirt and underwear; I ran out of jeans yesterday, but I figure that they’ll do for the moment. Have to remember to see if there’s a washer in the hotel. When I was dressed, he grabbed the room key and shoved it into his pocket, holding the door open for me before closing it behind us both.

I squinted into the early morning sun and felt even more out of sorts--I can’t remember a morning I felt so willing to skive back into bed for a couple more hours.

We were silent as we shuffled across the parking lot to the main lobby, where Drew was sure he remembered seeing the breakfast spot. Sure enough, it was just off the lobby, and there were still a few people seated at the small two-seater tables available. Most of the food was picked through by this time, but I noticed they still had the waffle machine out and ready, and gleefully went over to make myself one, only vaguely aware of Drew going over to the buffet--if you could call it such. It just had small boxes of cereal and prepackaged pastries, as well as bananas and apples.

By the time I sat down with my waffle, a bagel with cream cheese, half a banana, and a cup of orange juice, Drew had eaten his banana muffin and drunk through most of a cup of coffee. He watched me eat after refilling his cup, amusement pulling his lips at the vigor of my appetite; my glare was only half-hearted as I reached out and stole a few sips of his coffee throughout my meal. Somewhat-strong, black, and hot--what more could a guy ask for?

Once the last bite passed my lips, Drew sat back in his seat; “You famished out?”

I swallowed; “For the moment.”

He snickered, pushing his chair back and causing me to wince at the metal scrape on the floor. His large palm ruffled my hair and pushed against the back of my head, making me duck.

“Come on, kid,” he teased, and I shoved his hand from my head with another mock glare even as I slid from my seat and gathered up the trash--most of it was mine anyway.

Walking back across the parking lot, I jabbed my knuckles into the small of his back; “Don’t call me kid, you fucker.”

He rubbed his lower spine; “Can’t help if you are.”

“Can’t help you’re muh uncle either, but we’re beyond such things, yah?”

Drew blushed, even the back of his neck turning dark, and heat came to mine as well, although I snickered enough for him to hear me and bump his arm back into my chest in retaliation.

“Jerk.”

Once we were back in the room, I returned to the bed and curled up in the cool spot I’d left behind earlier, comfortably sated in appetite and feeling warm. The bed shifted behind me and I stayed put, even though I moved a bit when I felt him leaning over. Opening my eyes saw him looking at me, cheeks still mildly warm from before even as he closed the distance between us for a light kiss to my face, pulling back with an amused smirk.

“You need ta shave, Michael.” My hand rose up and felt my cheek and jaw, feeling low stubble beneath my palm and fingers.

“Barely anything there,” I quipped, and he visually disagreed, pulling back completely so he could find the remote.

“Prickly,” he told me, and I frowned.

“Yah? Well, you’re breath smells like coffee, so we’re even.”

“You shave, I’ll brush,” he offered, and I snorted.

But I did leave my comfortable nest on the bed, ambling over to the large mirror and countertop with the sink; the hotel offered the small amenities, and a disposable razor was one of them.

“No shaving cream.”

My remark was dry, and Drew snorted over the sound of the television; “I managed.”

“Smartass.”

His silence was smug, and I rolled my eyes, using water and soap on my face to shave; it’s not that I had much there anyway, and never really have. As far as I could tell, the Kellers weren’t known for their facial hair--once Dad had made the decision to teach me how to shave, personally, it took him nearly a week just to grow more than a faint shadow upon his face.

Once done, I snarkily reminded Drew his promise to brush, and he pushed from the bed to obediently follow suit, leaving me to the television. He had it on the menu station, the channel selections scrolling upwards at an even pace. I didn’t bother checking to see what was on, simply turning it to a low number and flipping until I found the weather channel--hotel cable always has it.

They were talking about the southwest, arid conditions in Arizona and such, and I idly watched until it flipped to central United States, finally making its way south. During the highlight of Texas, Drew moved from before the mirror so he could see the screen, absently moving the plastic-handled toothbrush about in his mouth as he watched. It showed more heavy rain than what had been shown the day before, and he gave a low hum.

“What?”

He went as to answer but rethought the practicality of talking around paste and brush, going back to the sink and running water as he spit and finished.

“I ought to remember to call Vern sometime today and ask how they’re holdin’ up under the rain. I just know he didn’t get those fences fixed, and it’d be my luck if some head got out in the storms. If he’s gotta round ‘em up with the boys, he’s no doubt gonna be cussing me and everyone out there with him, the ornery fucker.”

I frowned slightly in confusion, “Vern?”

“Remember, my foreman? The guy who reminds me a lot of you,” he replied, voice sardonically dry and pointing.

“Oh, handsome, you mean?”

“Ha. Stubborn as fuck and hardheaded.”

“Ah, you didn’t deny it.”

“What?”

I smirked; “We’re handsome.”

He scoffed, but his grin was pulled up on one side and almost evil, my stomach fluttering as he stalked to the bed and onto it, advancing on me.

I didn’t really have any cause to be nervous, not after last night, but the nerves were all the same, especially when his looming presence didn’t yield the aggressively domineering kiss it promised, but something brushing and light. It still demanded, but more in that it be paid attention, noticed and welcomed.

I gave a soft smirk; “I rest my case.”

Drew’s surprised snicker flit against my mouth, and then he was moving away--not far, just not so close. I wasn’t disappointed, just a bit put out that perhaps my having to be smart changed his mind on what he’d planned on doing once he’d ‘caught’ me.

I flipped through channels, finally bored with the weather, and Drew idly asked what we should do until dinner with the family.

“I dunno. We could catch lunch with David and Steve.”

He snorted, “We just got done eating, sunshine.”

“But I’ll be hungry again by then.”

I could feel him rolling his eyes, but he didn’t shoot down the suggestion, so I turned the volume down and leaned over for the phone, somehow expecting but still caught by surprise by a flirtatious hand running up my exposed bit of skin. I shivered, but didn’t acknowledge it by anything more, and the hand lingered even as I returned to my previous position, phone in hand.

Those fingers, inwardly warm and somewhat over-hot, absently stroked as I punched in the number for Steve’s apartment by memory.

It rang perhaps five or six times before, “Mn…y’lo?”

“Wow, long night?” I teased, and heard Steve become more alert and somewhat embarrassed.

“Shut up.”

I laughed; “And here I was, worried you two might not hit it off after all.”

He groaned; “It’s nothing like that, we stayed up late talking.”

“Right, ‘talking’.”

There was a pause, and he amended, “That, and he showed me this thing he can do…um…. Well, he’s flexible.”

I laughed outright for a good minute; “Oh man, I can’t believe he showed you that!”

He snickered; “I had to bribe and kinda…get a few beers into him first. …Anyway… was there a reason for this phone call?”

“Yah, actually. Wondered if you and David would want to catch lunch with us… or if you’ve got plans already.”

My humor was poorly contained, and he muttered a few derogatory remarks before agreeing, mentioning that it’d be better if we did it around one or two, rather than noon. I snickered again, and he muttered even darker remarks, but we settled on a restaurant and one-thirty before we hung up.

Drew’s hand was still on my side, and I shifted some and grabbed it within my own, pleased at the way he automatically curled his fingers against mine.

“So, we’re settled then, is it?”

I nodded, and he smirked, slanting a glance my way.

“So…what are we going to be doing for the next three hours?”

My returning slanting glance made him smile, before I evilly broke it by saying, “We should catch a movie. Been ages since I have.”

“…You’re kidding.”

“No. …Why, what did you think I’d say?”

“You fucker, you know what I was thinking.”

“Yeah, but we can do that later.”

I turned off the television and tossed the remote to the mattress, rolling off the bed and stretching to remove the slight bit of soreness that had cropped up in my back.

Fingers worked themselves into the waistband of my jeans and snapped me backwards, my surprise allowing Drew to pull me completely back onto the bed. I flailed out of instinct before I calmed, not fighting despite the awkward position. I put a hand up to signal that I’d need a moment, and he allowed it, watching as I situated myself better with a low grunt before I stilled once more.

“I swear, I’ve got a major wedgie now,” I quipped, but he ignored it as he moved to cover me with himself, face deceptively serene as his weight settled down on top of me.

There was no question asked, no need for permission; he knew he could, so he did. Fucking stupid of me to admit it, but yeah, I liked that. Although I expected him to, he didn’t kiss me, just laying there, trapping me in his embrace.

I was the first to make a move, reaching up to press lips to his, eyes already closed--I could feel his gaze still on me despite our kiss, and when I slid my eyes open again, I saw that I was right. As if in response to my look, those dark brown eyes slid shut and thus, mine did as well, as we fell into a simmering passion becoming so familiar to us. His mouth didn’t stay on mine, instead moving to my jaw and neck, my skin flushing in instant response to his lips and teeth and tongue.

Tongue over-thick in my mouth, I nonetheless managed a shaky, “You give me a hickey and I’ll knee you.”

Teeth closed down onto my collarbone in retaliation and I hissed--not from pain, mind. “F-fucker.”

His chuckle made me grin, although it was difficult when he continued biting me, gentle nips along muscle and flesh.

I couldn’t take anymore, my body surging up and catching him by surprise enough that I actually managed to roll him off, his shock remaining long enough for me to scramble over and reverse our positions. I grabbed one of his wrists without thought, instinctively knowing it’d help me keep him in place should he resist--but he didn’t.

He just docilely lay there with half-lidded eyes and smoldering lust, and my smirk was possessive as I leaned down and whispered into his ear; “Mine.”

Drew shuddered and looked away as he gave a shaky breath. My grip tightened on his wrist, his squirm one of guilty pleasure, and I couldn’t help the heady rush of power that gave me, knowing I’ve got this man, my perfect uncle, completely dependent upon me the way I am upon him. I couldn’t put it into words how that made me feel, so I didn’t even try, choosing instead to change our embrace into something gentler.

Fuck yeah, a cuddle, I changed my lust to something warm and borderline innocent.

It threw him, but he accepted it without question, sighing once he realized the shift wasn’t exactly in his favor.

After perhaps five minutes of this, he finally asked, “You said something about a movie?”

I snorted slightly, shifting enough to finally pull away and sit up.

“Yah, I ain’t seen one in forever.”

He rolled his eyes, but rolled onto his side so he could get up, moving slower than I had, but I think it was more reluctance than ability. Some time later, we were in the truck, and I mentally mapped where we were at to the nearest theater I could think of, before putting the truck in reverse and then into drive.

When we got to the theater, I gave Drew the choice of choosing the movie, even though he initially backed away from it, claiming that he didn’t know anything about what was showing.

“I don’t either, but look, there’s something.”

Anything with the word Dead had to be good, right? His nose crinkled, and he instead pointed towards a poster showing a guy in a black trench coat flying out of an exploding mass of building and cars.

“But…the gore! The other one probably has zombies.”

Drew shuddered; “Ugh. I’ll never be able to sleep.”

Pulling an exaggerated pout, I slanted a glance his way; “But you’ve got someone to keep the bogies away.”

He smirked; “Precisely.”

For all my bluster, I was perfectly fine seeing the action movie, even if the promise of gore was more compelling. There’s something about the mixed splatter of living and rotted blood that’s just…fucking awesome. Since we were meeting up with David and Steve later, we didn’t buy anything in the way of food--it was cutting it close to the wire for the movie anyway.

The theater was busy--meaning that the movie was supposedly more of a blockbuster than we’d realized--and we were stuck getting seats in the left wing, practically against the wall. I didn’t mind overmuch, sitting down and slouching a bit even as Drew lowered himself down on my right, shifting his legs and feet until comfortable.

I watched the movie, I did, but I couldn’t help sitting there and feeling…so young. And I am, I’m so fucking young and inexperienced.

A kid playing adult.

I don’t know if what I felt projected off me or if Drew was just good at picking up my disquiet, but his hand touching my arm startled me from my thoughts, looking over to see his questioning glance. It was the cold bite of his ring against my skin that snapped me from whatever I was stewing under, my sudden, natural grin putting him at ease.

And maybe he did it on purpose, but his hand stayed on my arm for quite a while, fingers dry and warm. My doubts no longer mattered.

-

“There, was that so bad?” I queried in the truck, already heading for the restaurant. Drew stretched against his seat belt, chest expanding distractingly before he relaxed with a low sigh, completely at peace with himself.

“Not so much, no,” he replied, and I snickered.

After a moment, I prompted, “You’re welcome,” and he snorted, cuffing me on the shoulder with one strong fist.

-

We arrived at the restaurant first, and were already through a helping of seasoned bread by the time my friends showed--they looked a bit peaked, and I couldn’t help my knowing grin as they sat. David scowled, his skin turning pink even though Steve just beamed a far-too-happy smile.

“Late night?” I quipped, and one or the other quite effectively kicked me in the shin, causing Drew to laugh at my expense.

I didn’t mind it, glad that they were evidently happy with the direction they were going. We talked shit for a while, idle things and joking mannerisms, until I finally leveled a serious glance at Steve.

“Have you decided yet, when you might be moving?”

The two stared before Steven blushed hard, ducking his face towards his picked-over salad and trying to hide the grin that spread over his mouth regardless.

“Perceptive shit, aren’t you?” he quipped, and I snickered.

David sighed, falsely put-upon and with a vague undertone of fondness.

“His lease isn’t up ‘til the end of the year, and we figured…that’d give us the time we’d need to see if we really want to take this further.”

“I see….”

I received a gentle chuckle from the still-blushing Steve; “We can’t all just slash the anchor and sail away, Michael. Some of us are more pragmatic than that.”

Drew laughed at that, and I gave a fake pout before saying, “Anyway, I was thinking I’d sign my truck title over to David. …Yours is a piece of shit, D.”

My ex gave me a bemused glance at the shortened moniker, and then grew even more so when he mulled over what I’d said. “Your truck?”

I nodded, spearing pasta in the tines of my fork and shoving it into the side of my mouth; my cheek bulged, but I doubt any of them cared.

“Yah. Your Honda ain’t gonna last another year, tops, and my baby might look scrappy but she runs like heaven. I’m probably not gonna need her, and it’d hurt to see her fester.”

“Michael, I can’t take your truck, you’re gonna need it.”

Drew waved a gentle hand; “I have vehicles enough, and a few Michael can tinker on to his heart’s content.”

I shifted, somewhat disquieted; I hadn’t given thought that I’d be gaining something better than I was giving away, but Drew made it sound like it.

Even worse was when his eyes lit with sudden thought, turning to me and saying, “Remind me: put you on my accounts, ‘specially the gas card.”

My friends blinked but I could only flounder for words, choosing instead to cover my astonishment with a sulky, “Don’t.”

“Sunshine, it’s not a big deal, and it’ll only be my private accounts, not the ones actually tied to the business. That can come later…or something, I dunno.”

I didn’t like it, but refrained from saying so, knowing it’d only be another repeat of the argument we’d had back in California. I don’t care what the fuck he says, I’m not gonna be tacked onto his accounts like some harridan or kept pet. David gave a barely-perceptible wince when he caught my glance, and I discreetly rolled my eyes and speared more pasta, taking my passive aggressive anger out upon the food.

There was a moment of awkward pause, and then Drew said quietly, “Michael, nothing’ means anything ‘cept what you’re giving me. I told you I’d leave it, but if I’m not, I gotta share. …Besides, the gas card is something all my employees have, so don’t bitch ‘bout that, at least.”

I frowned; “Employee?”

He shrugged; “You’re good at tinkering, if I remember right. We’re always paying out the ass for mechanical work, might as well make it in-house.”

I flushed, stricken dumb with shock and rare excitement--being paid to dink around with shit?! Hell yeah!

“…So cute.”

“Adorable.”

“Effing sickening.”

“My molars, they hurt.”

“Oh, no doubt.”

My two best friends muttered their comedic comments in droll tones, until I managed to snag a vicious kick at both of them, making them laugh despite their pain.

-

We talked for quite a while before heading our separate ways once more, Drew and I finding ourselves back at the hotel sometime around three, where I promptly curled up on top of the covers and attempted to fall into a nap. For some reason, I felt exhausted, and it wasn’t as if I’d done much during the day.

Drew sighed and sank onto the bed with me, his voice blissfully happy as he muttered, “You’ve got the right idea, there.”

A lazy smile flit across my face, and I rolled over, seeing him on his back in a sprawling slant.

I stared at him for a few minutes before doing as he had before, inviting myself over and lowering my form over top of his. As soon as he’d felt my movement, Drew’s eyes had fixated on me, quietly watching until I was situated comfortably--he might not have changed his facial expressions, but his eyes gave him away.

There was need there, unadulterated and still somewhat self-disparaging.

“You doubt this?” I asked quietly, and he had to shift his eyes away a moment before responding.

“I fear…my doubts.”

“You fear me,” I corrected, and discomfort was prevalent enough that I knew I’d hit it right. He was afraid I’d change my mind, do something stupid and immature. If I were him, I’d be afraid of such a thing, because I’m plagued with a disquieted feeling that he’ll tire of me eventually.

Dating Steve or David, I’d known where I stood with them, how we were alike and not, and it’d been easy.

But twelve years separate Drew and myself, and that’s the scariest concept I’ve ever faced--more so than that I’m in love with my uncle. I don’t know when he ceased to be just my uncle, but I don’t think I could ever bring myself to think of him that way again. He’ll always be Drew, a fallible man with easy success and secret failings and shame.

I lowered my head close to his ear, and my voice was firm and full of bite as I softly stated, “Mine.”

A repetition of this morning, and as he had before, Drew shuddered, a feeling of submission roiling off him. It was fucking sexy.

“Mine.” Softer this time, gentle, and he sighed, body giving in completely now.

I pressed lips to his neck, slightly moist kisses. Somehow, I understood that Drew had a need for someone taking over, that he’d had a need for years. I looked at him and saw the veiled want, and I decided I could give him that.

Shuffling my body further down, I used a hand to shift his shirt upwards, revealing his torso to my touches, his breathing affected by every movement of mine. He’s not gorgeous but he is, and I acquainted myself with that in my own way--stepping outside myself, I was reminded of how I scrutinize and learn a car, each one having its own personality when I pop the hood or crawl beneath.

I could discover Drew just by touching and learning, and a flush pinked my cheeks as I realized this, despite my silly grin.

Despite my intent, I didn’t get too far at all before I was delving into his jeans, and finally, into his briefs. My mouth, my tongue, my hands on Drew’s thighs, holding and pressing, feeling the minute tremors that rose up the moment I took cock into my mouth for the very first time. His taste wasn’t as heavy as I’d initially predicted, and then I remembered that he’d showered just this morning. Beyond that, I sucked my lover for a good long while, keeping the pace mine and forcing him to know it was so.

Even so, my mind drifted a bit to last night, and in so remembering, my erection became even more strained against my jeans--a counterbalance.

And when I felt him grow close enough, I pulled off and used my sweaty grip to finish him off, his body coiled as he strained through orgasm. Only once it was over did I look up at his face, seeing intense sweat on his brow, dampening his hair as tension bled from his face and upper body.

“You were pretty quiet,” I remarked, and Drew blinked, blank surprise on his face.

“Didn’t seem you wanted me to not be,” he stated before he caught himself, mouth clicking shut as an embarrassed flush heated his face.

My smile relaxed him, and I lowered down next to him and quite boldly grabbed his hand and pressed it to my groin, causing him to laugh and lean over to kiss me. He eventually worked my jeans from my legs and blew me as I’d done him, swallowing like I’d told him not to. Bastard.

But afterwards, we shimmied beneath the blankets and finally fell into a nap, the weight of the ring on my finger pressed against the pillow bunched beneath my head.

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a/n: fin