Royal

When Madden got out of the hospital he decided he needed time to get his shit together without relying on Thane or anyone else, so he up and left. Thane was devastated so Zade has been over there keeping him company on a fairly constant basis. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad Zade’s able to be there for his best friend, but after three weeks of not seeing much of Zade, I’m really starting to miss him.

Zade and I still text all the time, but he feels like Thane needs him right now, and I agree with him.

My phone buzzes in my pocket and I fumble to grab it, hoping it’ll be Zade wanting to hang out. Shut up, it’s not pathetic if he likes me back.

To my surprise, it’s Madden’s name flashing across the screen.

“Hey, is everything okay?” I ask as soon as I answer.

“Everything is fine,” Madden says in a tone that suggests I’m crazy for even asking.

“Good. Sorry, you haven’t been reaching out much lately so I’m surprised you’re calling.”

“I wasn’t calling because you’re mad at me,” Madden reasons.

“I’m not mad at you.”

“Last time I saw you, you yelled at me for hurting Thane,” Madden points out.

“So what if I yelled at you? That didn’t mean I wanted to go three weeks without knowing whether you were okay.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you worry,” Madden says before clearing his throat and carrying on. “I did call for a reason. I’m hoping you and Nash will help me with something.”

“Of course we will, name it.”

“I got ahold of the owner of the club.” The quiver in Madden’s voice lets me know he means the club. The club where he was nearly shot to death only a few months ago. “I asked if we could bring the kids from Rainbow House and paint a mural on the side of the building. He loved the idea. So now I just need you guys to agree and to get supplies together.”

“That’s a great idea, tell me how I can help organize and I’ll get right on it.”

I hang up with Madden with a list in hand and a plan for us to all get started on the mural next weekend.

 

 

Nash

Paint, check. Brushes and rollers, check. Ten enthusiastic kids and six excited adults, check. Beautiful day for painting a mural, check.

I glance at Royal in the passenger seat of my car and smile. He’s been like a kid waiting to go to Disney World all week, dying to get this mural started. When Madden first called Royal was happy to help, but wasn’t that psyched on a personal level. Once we started planning a bit did he get excited about it. We all agreed that we’d let this be free form for all the kids so they’d have fun with it. But that didn’t stop Royal from drawing up ideas of what he planned to add.

As we near the club Madden starts to shift and fidget in the backseat. I glance in the rearview mirror and see Madden with his head between his knees, his back rising and falling rapidly with each breath.

I elbow Royal and tilt my head to give him the hint to check on Madden without making it obvious.  

Royal glances back and worry creases his forehead.

“Madden, what can I do? Tell me how to help.” Royal reaches back and puts a hand on

Madden’s back in an attempt to soothe him.

“I’ll...be...fine,” Madden grits out between breaths.

To both my and Royal’s surprise Madden does manage to get himself under control by the time we’re parked. He’s still trembling but he seems to be otherwise functional.

The kids from Rainbow House are clamoring to start as Adam and Gage start to set up supplies where everyone can grab them.

It’s the perfect day to spend outside painting. The kids are all having a blast painting hearts, rainbows, quotes about love and acceptance.

“This was an amazing thing to do for them,” I tell Madden as he smiles proudly at everyone working hard.

“If I’m being honest, when I organized this it was for me. Seeing how much this means to them, though, I’m even happier I did it. I don’t want them to be afraid of the world, or afraid to love. Love is how we fix all the dark and broken parts.”

Madden’s words give me an idea. I grab a paintbrush and in big letters along the bottom of the mural I write #loveisthecure. Then, I take a picture and post it to Twitter with the same hashtag. I take a few pictures of the kids painting and post those as well before I get back to work beside Royal.

 

As the afternoon sun heats up Royal takes his shirt off and tosses it somewhere out of the way of all the paint. If there was any previous doubt in my mind that I’m attracted to Royal it would’ve been obliterated as my eyes eagerly devour the sight of him glistening with sweat in the sun. I catalogue every inch of colorful ink on his skin. I put a majority of it there and that fact makes me swell with territorial pride. I’ve marked him, I’ve protected him our whole lives, I’ve loved him without ever realizing it.

Royal turns his head and smiles at me, somehow oblivious to the storm of emotions raging inside me. I’m dying to throw him down on the paint covered tarps and find out what his lips taste like.

His smile never faltering, Royal takes advantage of my distracted state to run his finger through the wet, green paint on the tip of his brush, reach over, and finger paint a streak of green right from my forehead to my chin.

“Asshole,” I laugh before using my brush to paint a red stripe across his chest.

“Oh, it is so on right now.”

Royal sticks both of his hands right into a tray of yellow and lunges at me, hands outstretched.

I feint left and then skirt around him when he falters. Grabbing a nearly empty tray of blue paint I turn and smash it over his head, letting the color run down his face and the back of his neck. I double over in laughter at the sight and Royal launches himself at me, undeterred.

“Oomph.”

The wind is knocked out of me as Royal tackles me to the ground and begins rubbing his paint covered head all over me like a cat.

Once he’s satisfied and I’ve managed to stop laughing our precarious position becomes noticeable. My heart races as I look up at Royal, shirtless and straddling my hips. My breath hitches at the crooked smile on his far too tempting lips. In a few seconds Royal’s going to notice the effect he’s having on me and I’ll have to find a way to explain why I got a hard-on from him sitting in my lap.

“Guys, stop wasting paint, shit ain’t free,” Madden reprimands, effectively breaking the moment.

Royal scrambles off of me with a sheepish grin in Madden’s direction. I tug my own shirt off and offer it to Royal to get some of the paint off his face.

 

 

When we get home I head straight for the shower. Royal and I flipped a coin in the car to see who got to shower first, even though the horndog voice in the back of my mind was shouting “Invite him to shower together.”

I strip off my paint covered and sweat drenched clothes and toss them in the hamper in the corner of our bathroom.

As soon as I’m under the lukewarm spray of the showerhead my mind returns to a few hours earlier, remembering the weight of Royal straddling me. My cock is hard and aching within seconds. I close my eyes and tip my head back. My body is so alight with lust that every drop of water that pelts me feels like an intimate caress.

I wrap my hand around my rock hard shaft and give myself a slow stroke. I bite my lip against the moan that threatens to escape as I imagine Royal on his knees, taking me into his mouth. Then, my imagination adds in the sensation of Zade at my back, kissing my neck, his erection pressing between my ass cheeks as Royal sucks me, and my balls are drawing tight within seconds.

“Oh fuck,” I whimper, knees weak as my strokes speed and my mind runs wild with the images of four strong hands all over me. “Oh god.”

My knees buckle and I brace myself against the shower wall to stay upright as my orgasm slams into me. My cum paints the shower wall in thick streaks as pulse after pulse of pleasure threatens to bring me to my knees.

When I regain my composure I rinse the evidence of my shower fun off the wall and return to the task of washing the paint out of my hair.