Cast Off (2 page)

Flicking a glance to the cars in the driveway as he paced on the sidewalk, he wasn’t sure if it would be easier or harder to confess to Kurt when other people were around. As tempting as it was to go home and wait for another time, he’d driven by dozens of times since Kurt had been released from the hospital, and this was the first time he’d been able to talk himself out of the car.

Kurt had to forgive him, even though Ian had been a selfish, self-absorbed idiot. If Ian had irreparably damaged his relationship with his brother, it would leave a hole in his life that could never be filled, and he’d have only himself to blame.

With a deep breath, he strode up the driveway and rang the doorbell.

A slender disheveled man led him into the house, led him to Kurt.

There were other men in the room, and the scent of fresh paint was heavy in the air, but it all barely registered.

“What are you doing here?” His baby brother stood, and was immediately flanked by a dark-haired man and a blond. One of them must be Davy.

Ian didn’t know how to answer the almost angry question. He wanted to hug Kurt, but he didn’t know if the gesture would be welcome or even painful. Ian had gone to the hospital, but only entered the room when Kurt was sleeping, unable to face his brother and his own shame. The faint creases beside Kurt’s mouth spoke of hurts still endured, and it killed Ian to see his brother in pain.

Kurt looked… better than he had in the hospital, but considering Kurt had long been taller and more muscular than Ian, the weight he’d lost after being injured had left him appearing almost frail. Ian wanted to turn around and flee, but he couldn’t.

“Oh my God, Kurt! He’s one of your brothers?” The incredulous tone briefly directed Ian’s attention to the small blond man standing next to his brother. Ian sucked in a breath. The guy was fucking adorable. A threadbare pale-pink T-shirt stretched across a well-formed chest and abs. The guy wasn’t muscular by any stretch, but he looked strong and compact, like a ballet dancer. The neck of the shirt had a small hole that Ian wanted to wiggle a finger into and yank, ripping the shirt away and baring golden skin. The somewhat looser, paint-splattered jeans might prove more of problem, but there was a rip at the top of one thigh that suggested all kinds of things to Ian.

“Please tell me he’s gay too.” There was no mistaking the interest in both voice and eyes, and despite the task that had brought Ian here, he couldn’t stop himself from holding the blond’s gaze. If they were in a club, it would be a matter of minutes before they found themselves in the bathroom, back room, or alley. Unless, of course, this was Davy, the man his brother had moved in with. In which case, he hoped the guy wasn’t the type to follow through on the promise in his eyes.

“He’s straight,” Kurt said with almost no inflection in his voice.

Here it was. Already. The moment of truth. Ian wanted to puke.

But the truth was all he had. The only thing that could mend the breach. The truth he’d never told anyone who knew his full name, much less which superhero he liked to dress up as when he was a kid.

“I’m not.”

The blond squealed in a vamped-up expression of enthusiasm that boded well for a good fuck, but his dick had to take a backseat to fixing things with his brother. The brother who stared at him as though he thought Ian was playing a particularly cruel joke. Kurt’s lips thinned, his stern cop face in stark evidence, and he grabbed Ian by the arm, steering him to the basement entrance. Kurt released his tight grip and gestured for Ian to precede him down the stairs.

Ian descended into darkness, the creaky stairs almost a soundtrack of him going to his doom.

“Hey, you aren’t bringing me down here to kill me or anything, are you?”

Kurt snorted. “I should, you idiot.”

“Dirt floors to bury my body in?” Ian couldn’t stop from pushing.

“Not fucking hardly. This is our home gym.”

His brother clicked on the lights, illuminating a room completely filled with gym equipment. For a moment, the home gym distracted him. Going to the gym wasn’t his favorite activity—Kurt was the workout freak in the family—but he could easily see working out on the roomful of high-end equipment he saw.

“Oh my God, Kurt. This is incredible.” Was Davy also a workout freak, or was this room all Kurt’s?

“Quit stalling. What the fuck is going on?”

God, hadn’t he said enough already? Did he have to spell it out and draw diagrams?

“Seriously, Ian, what did you mean up there?” Kurt looked mad enough to hit him. Even the recent bullet wound probably wouldn’t prevent Kurt from damaging Ian rather badly if he chose to.

Diagrams and spelling, it was. Ian began to pace, trying to choose the best starting point.

“I… I’m gay too.”

Kurt frowned. “What about all those girls? Those strippers?”

His family all thought he was a complete slut. Dogging after anything with a skirt—at least in their presence. On his own, though, he was just as much of a slut, but if they didn’t have a dick, he never gave them a second glance.

“I could ask you the same thing. You had girlfriends.” But Kurt had had the courage to do what Ian never had, and Ian hadn’t been able to stop himself from hating his brother, just a little bit, for that.

“So you’re just figuring this out?” The faint hint of skepticism in Kurt’s tone told Ian he hadn’t fixed things, not yet. Kurt still thought he might be the butt of a joke, like when they were kids. They had five other siblings but only the three youngest—he, Kurt, and Dylan—ever seemed to take endless fascination in tormenting each other. This, though, was not the topic to choose for that sort of joke. Ian knew better than most and he would never do that to Kurt, so it pained him that Kurt didn’t trust him not to.

“No, I had it figured out for a while. Years. The women were just a cover.”

He’d been hiding his sexuality almost twenty years now, afraid to let anyone, even those closest to him, know that deep dark secret. When Kurt had come out to their family—with no repercussions at all—it had broken Ian somewhere inside. Aside from a myriad of negative emotions that had welled up as a result of keeping his orientation a completely unnecessary secret, he’d resented the fuck out of Kurt. He’d let his jealousy and anger override all good sense, and now all he was left with was shame and guilt.

“Years? Are you fucking serious? What the hell?”

“I was afraid. I thought I’d lose everyone. So I hid it. When you told me, all… smug… and confident, I thought you’d figured it out and were mocking me. Then, when I realized you were telling the truth, and everyone accepted it without any problems, I was mad at you.” Ian’s gaze dropped to his feet, unable to face the censure that had to be in Kurt’s eyes. His baby brother had been the brave one, paving the way for him, and he’d still been a fucking coward.

“Come here.” Kurt dragged him into a hug. Ian didn’t deserve Kurt’s forgiveness, but he’d take it. He clung to Kurt’s strong shoulders, eyes burning. He swallowed a sob and buried his face in Kurt’s shirt. Staying away from his family had been lonely, but not talking to Kurt and Dylan regularly had been almost unbearable.

His brother coaxed him down onto a vinyl-covered bench, and they sat in silence for a few moments while Ian composed himself.

“Are you going to tell everyone?”

“Yeah. It was killing me, pretending. I can’t believe you had the guts to just say it at your own birthday party.” As soon as he’d retrieved his balls from wherever they’d disappeared, Ian had decided it was time to come clean. Kurt was only the first stop. Their mom had a family dinner every Sunday. Not all of the siblings and their kids showed up every week, but Ian didn’t care who was there. His parents were next on his list. After that, the other five siblings should be a breeze.

“Well, I had some incentive. Did you see my boyfriend?” Kurt grinned.

Ian smiled in response and wiped at his wet eyes. “The cute little blond in the pink shirt?” The blond had been the hottest guy in a roomful of hot guys, so it only made sense that Kurt had already laid claim to him.

“You got a boyfriend of your own?”

“No, just a lot of one-night stands.” A lot. He didn’t know a damn thing about boyfriends.

“Well, come on upstairs. Let me introduce you to Rick.”

“Rick?” The blond didn’t much look like a Rick, but it would be an easy name for him to call out while fucking.

“The cute blond in the pink shirt. My Davy is the tall dark-haired one.”

“Let’s go. I’m going to stay and help, if that’s okay.”

R
ICK
slapped a roller, soaked with paint, against the wall, causing a little back spray. God, he was such an idiot. He stroked the roller up and down until he’d used up the paint on the roller, then set it back in the tray before trying to wipe at the lemon-yellow spatters on his arms. He only succeeded in streaking the yellow along his forearms.

He wasn’t sure why he’d been so damned flippant about Ian’s coming-out statement. He, better than anyone, knew how hard it could be. Of course, the guy had to have some idea about how his revelation would be received, given that the revelation was to an already gay brother who had moved in with his boyfriend. Davy had told him that Kurt and his brother had been estranged for a couple of months, thinking it had something to do with Kurt coming out, but Kurt was a very private person and Rick hadn’t heard anything more. For all he knew, the estrangement had been over something entirely different. Family stuff wasn’t any of Rick’s business, although he might make an exception in Ian’s case.

Assuming Ian didn’t hate him for acting like a shallow idiot. Rick had played up the oversexed club boy as soon as he’d seen Ian, and reacted before he’d had a chance to realize what import Ian’s words held for anyone besides his own cock.

Rick had always had a little crush on Kurt, with that stern cop exterior and those puffed-up muscles. But Ian was like a refined, polished, better-looking version of Kurt, with dark hair instead of auburn and pale-blue eyes instead of dark blue, and in great shape.

“Hey, Rick.” Kurt’s deep voice had him spinning around, and like his thoughts had conjured him up, there was Ian.

“Uh, hey.” No, he wasn’t digging himself out of his hole with that stellar oration.

“Rick, this is my brother, Ian. Ian, this is my friend, Rick.”

Ian’s red-rimmed eyes and the shy vulnerability in his expression tugged at something deep inside Rick. Even if Ian was a keeper like Kurt, Rick couldn’t bring himself to brush Ian off. Not after his thoughtlessness earlier.

He extended his hand. “Nice to meet you, Ian.”

Ian gripped his hand. “Nice to meet you too.” The heat was back, the heat he’d sworn he’d seen earlier when Ian had raked his gaze from Rick’s head to his toes, and especially one particular bit in between. Ian held his hand for longer than customary and rubbed at the inside of Rick’s wrist before he let go. Goose bumps flared along Rick’s arm at the telling, yet subtle, touch.

Ian turned to his brother. “I think I’ll stay in here, help Rick.”

Kurt rolled his eyes and left. Rick’s heart picked up its pace at the realization they were alone.

“So, I’m pretty sure the paint’s supposed to go on the wall.” Ian grinned, and the shyness disappeared in a flash as he reached out and swiped a finger along Rick’s cheek, down his neck, and to his collarbone.

Blood rose under his skin, heating him and plumping his cock. The combination of embarrassment and sudden, fierce arousal was disorienting but not entirely unpleasant.

“Maybe you need to show me how it’s done.” Rick’s voice had dropped, and the dilation of Ian’s pupils, narrowing the ring of gorgeous blue iris, told him that neither of them was too interested in painting. Good thing that Rick’s earlier irritation had caused him to work fast and as a result the kitchen was nearly done.

Ian wiggled a finger into a hole in Rick’s shirt, and the unexpected contact with the skin on his chest pushed his cock into full, throbbing arousal.

“Maybe I do. Because I think you’ve ruined this shirt.” Ian’s words were accompanied by a tearing sound as he dragged his finger down. He didn’t go far, and the rip wasn’t that much bigger than it had been before, but it was almost like Rick was naked. A glance at Ian’s groin confirmed that they were well on their way to some mutual pleasure. Rick wanted to flick open Ian’s jeans and suck him down, right here in Davy’s kitchen. Only problem was, if Davy didn’t kill them for having sex here, Kurt would probably shoot off some of his very important bits. For a gorgeous hunk of a gay cop, Kurt was alarmingly prudish.

Once they were alone, would Ian rip his shirt right off? It wasn’t as easy as it looked in porn, but Rick shivered at the thought of having it done.

Ian stepped closer and palmed his cock. Rick groaned and bucked his hips into the warm, welcome pressure.

“Want to get out of here?” Rick copied Ian’s grip and was rewarded by a moan.

“Yes, but I did say I’d help.” Ian frowned and stepped back, separating them.

No, that would never do. Ian’s cock had felt like a work of art and Rick was ready to worship.

“There’s only one wall left here in the kitchen. And there are at least four other guys besides Davy working in the rest of the house.”

Ian’s lips curled up in a feral grin that left Rick breathless. “Then find me a roller and let’s get this wall finished.”

I
N
RECORD
time, the two of them finished painting the kitchen and cleaned the rollers, despite the number of gropes and grabs that took place between them. Rick was ready to blow, and he suspected as soon as he and Ian were alone, the first orgasm would be fucking quick. Since he intended to have more than one with this man tonight, the speed of the first one didn’t matter.

“Looks great.” Ian wasn’t looking at the walls, and Rick couldn’t help but preen, just a little, under the admiring regard.

“Ready to get out of here?”

“Yes.” Ian’s single word was heartfelt and emphatic. Rick wasn’t sure he’d ever been this horny or desperate for a man. Sure, Oscar had revved him up a bit earlier, but he’d never wanted Oscar with this intensity. This lust was all for Ian and Rick wanted to spend hours slaking it.