"Right, but the rest of us are fun-loving cradle robbers. How could he resist?" Rather than finding him funny, I couldn’t help but cringe. Cradle robbing hit too close to home today. "I can't believe I'm telling you this," he went on, "but unclench, Noah. We don't always find what we want in our own age categories."
No, that was becoming painfully fucking clear.
*
When I came home and parked in the garage, I saw my truck in its spot. It meant Nicky was here, or he had returned the truck. Grabbing my stuff, I headed for the elevator and went up to our floor.
As soon as the doors opened, I was hit by bass from loud music and the smell of both cigarettes and weed.
There was no way Tennyson and Sophie were home. They would've noticed and called me. I hoped.
I dug out my keys and unlocked the door, torn between being irritated and worried. I found Julian in the middle of the couch. He lit up a joint as hard-core porn played on the flat screen.
Jesus fucking Christ .
Slamming the door shut got me his attention, but he was too stoned to be shocked. He had no expression whatsoever. He calmly lowered the volume on the stereo, and instead of turning off the porno, he poured a glass of vodka and soda.
He'd bought alcohol. Fucker.
"Welcome home," he said lazily. "How did your meetings go?"
I didn't answer, too fucking pissed. But the worry didn't go anywhere, 'cause this wasn't him.
"What the fuck're you doing, Julian?"
He smirked. "I'm having some courage. Want some? We have the liquid variety, and Nicky hooked me up with the marijuana variety. He also gave me a bowl, but I don't know how to smoke it."
I stared at him, debating internally, then sighed and set my bag and poster tubes on the floor.
"Have you ever gotten high before, kid?" I asked.
He scowled as I joined him on the couch. "You need to stop that crap, Uncle . I know you think I'm all innocent and sweet, but we have weed in Germany, too." He shrugged and leaned back.
I shook my head and looked at the coffee table. A bag of weed, tobacco, two packs of cigarettes, rolling papers… One bottle of vodka, one bottle of my favorite mainstream whiskey, mixers all over…
"Just how much courage do you need?" I wondered.
He leaned forward again and placed a glass in front of me. "It's for you, too. So you don't get mad." He scooped a spoonful of crushed ice into my glass and recreated the Jameson and ginger I taught him weeks ago. "There's something I need to tell you, and I was nervous as hell about it. But then Nicky showed up."
Funny how quickly that broke my resolve. What the fuck made him so nervous? And why did that make me nervous, too? He better not be fucking leaving. Who knew what else Nicky had hooked him up with. Friends? A better uncle?
I winced.
All right, bring on the drinks .
My mouth watered, and the two first sips went down smoothly, spreading warmth on the way down.
"What's with the porn?" I unbuttoned the top button of my shirt and got comfortable on the couch. "Doesn't really seem like your taste."
"You don't know my taste."
I chuckled and chugged more of my drink. "You're into S&M?"
Two women were being brutally topped by a guy in leather. He wielded one hell of a whip and made the girls sob before they crawled to suck his cock.
Julian appeared transfixed, and it didn't add up.
One glance at his crotch told me it didn't have a physical reaction on him.
Fuck .
I tore away and drained my glass.
"I've never done that," Julian said quietly.
I frowned. "Done what?"
"Given oral. I've received, been fucked, and topped, but never given oral."
And so the gay cat was out of the bag.
It struck me pretty fast he didn't know what he'd confessed, though.
My second drink went down in one go. I had a feeling I'd need it if sex was the topic. I poured a third, and then Julian extended a joint to me.
It'd been years…
Even in the City of Weed, it wasn't too common in my circles.
I accepted the joint and took a small puff, testing the
No, that was becoming painfully fucking clear.
*
When I came home and parked in the garage, I saw my truck in its spot. It meant Nicky was here, or he had returned the truck. Grabbing my stuff, I headed for the elevator and went up to our floor.
As soon as the doors opened, I was hit by bass from loud music and the smell of both cigarettes and weed.
There was no way Tennyson and Sophie were home. They would've noticed and called me. I hoped.
I dug out my keys and unlocked the door, torn between being irritated and worried. I found Julian in the middle of the couch. He lit up a joint as hard-core porn played on the flat screen.
Jesus fucking Christ .
Slamming the door shut got me his attention, but he was too stoned to be shocked. He had no expression whatsoever. He calmly lowered the volume on the stereo, and instead of turning off the porno, he poured a glass of vodka and soda.
He'd bought alcohol. Fucker.
"Welcome home," he said lazily. "How did your meetings go?"
I didn't answer, too fucking pissed. But the worry didn't go anywhere, 'cause this wasn't him.
"What the fuck're you doing, Julian?"
He smirked. "I'm having some courage. Want some? We have the liquid variety, and Nicky hooked me up with the marijuana variety. He also gave me a bowl, but I don't know how to smoke it."
I stared at him, debating internally, then sighed and set my bag and poster tubes on the floor.
"Have you ever gotten high before, kid?" I asked.
He scowled as I joined him on the couch. "You need to stop that crap, Uncle . I know you think I'm all innocent and sweet, but we have weed in Germany, too." He shrugged and leaned back.
I shook my head and looked at the coffee table. A bag of weed, tobacco, two packs of cigarettes, rolling papers… One bottle of vodka, one bottle of my favorite mainstream whiskey, mixers all over…
"Just how much courage do you need?" I wondered.
He leaned forward again and placed a glass in front of me. "It's for you, too. So you don't get mad." He scooped a spoonful of crushed ice into my glass and recreated the Jameson and ginger I taught him weeks ago. "There's something I need to tell you, and I was nervous as hell about it. But then Nicky showed up."
Funny how quickly that broke my resolve. What the fuck made him so nervous? And why did that make me nervous, too? He better not be fucking leaving. Who knew what else Nicky had hooked him up with. Friends? A better uncle?
I winced.
All right, bring on the drinks .
My mouth watered, and the two first sips went down smoothly, spreading warmth on the way down.
"What's with the porn?" I unbuttoned the top button of my shirt and got comfortable on the couch. "Doesn't really seem like your taste."
"You don't know my taste."
I chuckled and chugged more of my drink. "You're into S&M?"
Two women were being brutally topped by a guy in leather. He wielded one hell of a whip and made the girls sob before they crawled to suck his cock.
Julian appeared transfixed, and it didn't add up.
One glance at his crotch told me it didn't have a physical reaction on him.
Fuck .
I tore away and drained my glass.
"I've never done that," Julian said quietly.
I frowned. "Done what?"
"Given oral. I've received, been fucked, and topped, but never given oral."
And so the gay cat was out of the bag.
It struck me pretty fast he didn't know what he'd confessed, though.
My second drink went down in one go. I had a feeling I'd need it if sex was the topic. I poured a third, and then Julian extended a joint to me.
It'd been years…
Even in the City of Weed, it wasn't too common in my circles.
I accepted the joint and took a small puff, testing the
Similar Books
