The Small House, Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Lerrick

 

 

“You can’t fuck this up,” Bishop states.

Bishop is giving me the hardest look he’s ever given me.  What happens now is going to determine our entire future.

“Stress much?”

“Oh you’re stressed?” Bishop asks, “Excuse me.  We are broke, our business is about to go under and our mother just died.  Get the fuck over the stress.  If you’re feel tension you need to use that Bradshaw Billiona’rs ass as a stressball.”

“Jesus Christ, you’re rude Bishop,” Kwame states.

 

Bishop is relentless, “Carrington is a rich powerful bottom and his girlfriend is a plain-faced anorexic flower shop heiress.  At this point it would be rude for Lerrick NOT to try and put his dick in him.”

“What about Leo?”

Leo.  The love of my life.  Some guys wear a smile, Leo was the smile. E verything about him was soft and understated joy as he greeted everyone he came by.  I met him a few months ago at the coffee shop.  I went there for the coffee, but I got so much more.  Me and all these other broken people were the patients in Leo’s surgery as he asked about our day, our lives and welcomed the emotions that tiptoed out.  He was the perfect man and I should have been lucky to be his boyfriend.

 

“You’re ignoring his calls,”  Kwamie states, “This is what sad looks like.”

Dammit.  Kwamie.  He just had to be the extra one.  You think you got a plan.  You think you’re good and boom.  Debbie Downer shows up.  Meddling Margaret, Salty Sally, Asshole Alice and Butthurt Billy all seem to manifest themselves in my little brother.  Kill-vibe Kwame.  And he’s looking at me with those wide eyes as though I’m evil incarnate.

 

Kwamie and me were always close in age.  Early 20s.  Not Bishop though.  Bishop was older.  He lived through some things and maybe that’s why he crosses his arms.

 

“I’m stuck…” I state.

“Leo loves you,” Kwame states, “Think about that.  I’d die to have someone love me the way he loves you.  Do you want to end up like Mom?  Alone…committing suicide in a strangers home.”

We had ruined the Stuyvesant wedding.  It was all over the news.   Rumor had it that the Stuyvesant girl was looking for us hoping to probably press charges for trespassing.  Except the problem is we were invited.  And my mother killing herself.  Well that was a tragedy.   It was something that I would probably never get over.  And for a moment I wonder if Kwame had a point.

I loved Ma.  With everything inside of me.  But I didn’t want to end up like that.

 

 

“Two broke people shouldn’t be together,” Bishop states, “I’m pretty sure this is written in the constitution.”

“Which part?” Kwame challenges him.

 

Bishop shrugs, “The part next to thy shall pull your dick out when a rich heir asks you to.”

Just at that moment my cellphone rings and the someone is knocking at the door.  I look at my cellphone.  It’s Leo.  I look at the door.

I have no doubt that it’s the guy that Carrington sent for me.

 

~

 

 

“Are you the Bradshaw boy?” the driver asks.

 

“Sure am.”

You ever have someone give you a look that tells you that you shouldn’t be there.  He is literally upset about picking me up and I can see the driver has it written all over his face.   The look is almost fixated.

 

“Mr.  Stuyvesant sent me to bring you to him.”

I’m not surprised that Carrington has someone pick me up to bring me to him.  I’m not surprised that it’s a Range Rover.  Clearly the driver doesn’t like me or doesn’t want me to be here.

 

Before long I’m taken to his million dollar condo.

“He’s waiting for you at the top.”

The top.   This condo was fly as fuck.  I remember when I was a kid and Ma took me to first see the Stuyvesants.  I was convinced they had Jordan kind of money.  Carrington’s condo seemed designed for relaxation as I get off the elevator.  Perched high above the 2 infinity pools, I see a wood deck that is like an oasis of peacefulness. From the deck and living room I can see activity all around Houston.  The best view however is Carrington

 

“Didn’t expect you to come,” he states.

 

 

I found myself checking out the tall muscular frame of Carrington as he stared over at me.  Even in his house he wore a suit.  I found myself immediately admiring how his clothing offered an appealing hint of what lay beneath.  I loved how the well tailored shirts would encase his torso in such a manner that I could see the defined muscular arms.

“You invited me,” I respond, struggling to sound well spoken.  When you talk to a guy like Carrington you wanted to come off that way.

 

“Yeah but your mother…”

“Don’t want to talk about it.”

It’s pretty new that my mother died.  We didn’t even have the money to bury her.  We had to get her cremated.  Just me and my brothers sitting there.  My older brother Bishop hadn’t cried and I don’t think my youngest brother Kwamie had stopped crying ever since it happened.

 

As he showed me into the sitting room, I couldn’t help but feel a different moment as I check out his round ass in his slacks.  They sat perfectly and as though he was catching me, he turns, smiled and looked straight at my face, his dark eyes still warm and soft.

“Any idea why she did it?”

“Said I don’t want to talk about it, man,” I state, stern but soften it up with a bit of a smile so I don’t come off looking like a bigger asshole than I had to.

Luckily he seems a bit distracted smiling down, a little further than I expect him to.  I reach down and grab my dick a little bit, adjusting it and watch him swallow his spit.  Yeah.  He was definitely trying to see what I was working with.

 

 

“Get comfortable,” he states, “You want a drink?”

“Is your wife home?”

He laughs a little bit uncomfortably.  His eyes were still dark though.  Warm and soft.

 

“Guess that’s something I don’t want to talk about either,” Carrington replies without hesitating even a little bit, “I’ve missed you man.  You’ve grown up.”

“Same to you,” I respond, “You ballin now I see.  All muscular and shit.  You used to be a skinny little wimp.”

My voice gets deeper in a way.  I need to let him know that I see him.  He’s attractive, but I’m too cool to be acting like I’m going to be blown away.  I’m Lerrick fuckin Bradshaw.  I don’t care how much money this guy had.  He came looking for me after the wedding, not the other way around.

 

“Looks like you got bigger too. Mind if I smoke?”

He shrugs, “Do your thing.”

I light up my volcano vaporizer and get nice and baked.  He’s watching me the whole time.  You would think the smoke I was blowing out was some sort of smoke out.

I flex a little bit and he smiles over at me, “I wonder just much bigger you’ve gotten….”

I guess he takes that chance to see for himself.  He grabs at my dick and I just go crazy.  I grab the back of his head with my hand and begin assaulting his mouth with my tongue.  My dick is sticking out of the opening of my jeans and he grabs it.

 

“You need that dick inside of you, huh?” I tease him.

 

 

“Oh yeah daddy,” he says, “I missed when we used to play house.

 

 

He grabs my hand and starts to walk me to his bedroom.  We strip our clothes and throw them on the floor.  I take the leather belt off of my jeans and put it around his neck.  We both give each other a knowing smirk.

“Get on your knees…put my dick in your mouth.”

He complies, gets on his knees and works my dick over with his mouth like he’s been starving for some man-meat from the moment he saw me at the wedding.  All the while with one hand, I am holding onto the belt that’s wrapped around his neck and using my other hand to fuck his face.  I withdraw my dick a few times to slap him in the face with it and watch him lick up my leaking precum.

 

“Damn I’m ready to get fucked raw, daddy,” he begs looking up at me.

 

 

I direct his movement with my belt around his neck and place him on the back of on the bed, “Lift your legs up.”

My voice is deep.  I desperately search for his hole and unload a bunch of spit on it until it’s nice and slimy.  I apply some spit on my dick and tell him, “Here it comes.”

Just when I’m ready to push the head of my raw dick inside his hole I stop.

 

“What are you stopping for?”

He grabs my ass with one hand and urges me to fill him up.  I push away from him moving away and immediately start thinking about what Kwame told me earlier.   My mother died.  She died alone.  I remember how my father cheated on her.  I remember how embarrassing it was for all of us.  Was I like my father?  Was I just this no good, fucking guy who would do something so fucking crazy?

 

“I can’t man…” I tell him.

 

“Can’t what?”

“I’m in love with someone else,” I tell him.

 

I find myself pulling up my pants.  Sure, I wanted him.  Carrington was so neat and orderly that I just wanted to smut him out.  I want to smear my cum all over that expensive suit of his.  But I couldn’t.  I couldn’t do this to Leo.

 

What I am surprised about however is how Carrington reacts when I do that.

 

 

“Do you know who I am?” he asks.

It’s the rudest question.  It shows just shows how entitled he is.  A guy like Carrington always got exactly what he wanted when he wanted it.  There were never no questions. There was never any struggle.  And right now he was wanting me and I think for probably the first time in his entire life someone had said no to him.  The way his face looks back was as though he wasn’t really hearing me right.

So I fix my mouth up real good and I say it again, “I’m not interested.”

“You can’t just fuckin walk out.  I am Carrington Stuyvesant.  I could FUCKING ruin you.”

“Wow…all that for the IDEA of getting the dick.  I couldn’t imagine how nuts you would be if I actually did give it to you.”

Carrington’s eyes get real wide.  The next few minutes I think Hurricane Carrington comes through because it is raining fucks, bitches, assholes, motherfuckers and everything else of that nature.  I think it pisses him off when I don’t let it affect me.   Bishop would have fought Carrington.  Kwamie would have broke down and started crying. Not me though.

Fuck Carrington.

I knew exactly what I wanted.

 

~

“Hey you?”

“Hey handsome,” Leo states, “What did I do to deserve this?”

Leo was 25.   6’3”, slim with a perfect smile and deep brown eyes.  He has a bald head by choice and it’s the shiniest thing you’ve ever seen.   His smile of course is what got me.  He has a goatee that is perfectly framed around that smile of his.   It’s almost like a picture frame or something crazy like that.  The thing that mouth of his gave PERFECT head.  Literally.  I never had someone suck my dick the way he did.  Just looking at his lips when I walk into the coffee shop makes my balls glow up.  MY TESTICLES SMILED.

 

He wasn’t a bottom though.  He was a top.   Or more like a straight guy who never had sex with a guy and assumed he was a top.   What’s weird is that we haven’t quite figured out how this is going to work.  We jack each other off every once in a while and he promises that he’ll bottom for me even though he hasn’t yet.  Knowing Leo however he’d do anything for me.  I can see it just by the way he looks at me.  The kind of smile that tells you he’d never hide anything.  He’d never hurt you.  He’d be there for you no matter what.  Always.

“Just being you,” I tell him.

He wraps his hand around my waist, “Don’t make me take you into the backroom and bend you over the donuts.  Don’t think my boss had that in mind when I told her I’d fill the donut holes.”

I turn over to his boss.  It’s some conservative old lady who can’t stand my guts.  She’s threatened him multiple times that if I showed up in here during his shift she’d fire him.  Of course we all knew she was bluffing.  Leo was made for this fucking job.

 

I move his hand from my butt and position it on my dick.  I let him give it a nice hard squeeze.

 

“My ass is exit only,” I laugh, “You know that.”

Leo sighs a little bit, “I get it.  I get it.”

“LEO!” the conservative coffee shop lady is screaming out clearly irritated that we are making a scene in her heavily Conservative neighborhood and getting stares from all the old redneck cowboys that frequent the place.

 

“I should get going,” he whispers, “She’s about to pull out the holy water in a second if I don’t?”

“Wet t-shirt contest.”

“I’m too skinny,” he laughs, “You’ll win.”

“You’re sexy the way you are,” I smile back, “Hey listen.  I think we should move things along.”

“How?”

“My brothers and I are going to have dinner at my house later on,” I explain, “I’d like you to come.”

“I finally get to meet Kwamie and Bishop?” Leo asks.

 

 

“Unfortunately.  My family is the kind of family that gets into fist fights on Christmas Eve,” I admit, “Just so you know…I don’t know bring some Aleve and Icy Hot just incase.”

“LEO!”  the store owner starts screaming.

Leo sighs, “I got to go.  I’ll see you later?”

I smile, nodding, “7.  Don’t be late.”

“I won’t.”

I didn’t take guys home to my family.  It was never a thing that I really did.  One reason was that they were beyond embarrassing but honestly I never met a guy who I wanted to bring home.  Knowing that Leo was worth it makes me really think I made the right choice.  I’d much rather be with someone who made me happy than someone who could make me rich.

 

 

~

 

 

I meet my brothers at the supermarket.   We were so different when it came to foods.  Kwamie was ridiculously unhealthy.  I was a vegan.  And then there was Bishop who could survive strictly on a diet of dick, ass and cigarettes.

 

I’m not surprised when I find them in the snack aisle and notice the entire cart is loaded with junk food.  They seem to be having a heated discussion which honestly isn’t that much different from any other day.  Only problem is the amount of attention they are getting.

“Can you guys keep it down?” I ask, “People are staring.”

Sure enough a bunch of people are staring at all the screaming that’s going on in our aisle.  It’s Bishop who looks over at the crowd and says, “I don’t give a fuck.  Things can’t get worse in our family.  You want to see incest.  THIS IS MY LITTLE BROTHER!  THIS IS MY LITTLE BROTHER!”

Bishop then proceeds to bend me over the snack aisle and pretends to fuck me while Kwamie opens up a bag of Doritos and makes it rain like they were singles.  They do it to the point that we are literally left alone.

I push Bishop away, “I hate you.”

“Well I love you,” Bishop responds, “We were waiting for you to get here.  Neither of us have the slightest idea how to prepare a celebration meal.”

“Celebration meal?”

“You know celebrating mom’s life?  Celebrating the fact that you are about to work this rich fucker for every last cent.  If only you could get pregnant we’d be in the money,” Bishop suggests with a wide ass grin.

“About that…”

I pause.

Bishop looks at me.  If looks could kill he would have shot me a couple times in the head and had a open casket at my funeral.

“You didn’t fuck him?”  he asks, “How is that possible?  You had one job.  Pull your dick out.  Put it in the rich boy.  Then ask the rich boy to invest in our business after he’s nice and dick whipped.  How hard is that?  You’ve stuck your dick A LOT of other boys for much less.”

“I love Leo,” I state.

“I can’t fuckin’ believe you.  This guy again?  The Grande, extra hot with two shots of espresso guy?  That guy?  Again?  What the FUCK?”

 

 

“You haven’t even met him,” I state.

 

“And I don’t need to,” Bishop responds, “I need to meet Carrington.  The billionaire.  What happened to our plan?”

“I can’t help it,” I shrug, “I’m sorry Bishop.”

Bishop doesn’t really understand the word sorry.  He’s never said it.  He never usually sticks around long enough to hear it.  I watch as he stands there looking angrily at me.  At this moment he’s lost for words.  I’d always been closer to Bishop.  Probably because he was more like me. We liked to party.  We liked the same music.  We were actually with this world whereas Kwame spent most of his time living in some fantasy land somewhere with princesses, knights and rainbows.

Right now though Bishop is acting weird.

“You’re a selfish human being,” he states.

It’s weird.  Bishop usually would have cursed me out.  He would have hit me.  All of those things would have made sense but this didn’t.  This just didn’t make fucking sense.   Seeing him away like that hurt.

 

Bishop never reacted like this.  He seemed…hurt.  The way he stormed off was something that Kwamie would have done at the drop of a dime.  Not Bishop though.  Bishop was too tough…except when it came to me.  I guess they are right.  Family can hurt you more than your enemies can.  And right now Bishop is hurt and I feel like shit.

He had so much depending on me scamming the Stuyvesants out of some money.

 

“I’m proud of you,” Kwamie states.

He puts his hands on my shoulder.  I’m nervous though.  I wish I was so proud.  I just hadn’t seen Bishop completely black out like that before.

 

 

“I’m just hoping I made the right choice.”

“We’ll figure out the money situation, but this ain’t it,” Kwamie explains to me calmly, “There’s something weird about the Stuyvesants.  Something I don’t like…”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t you think it’s weird that Mom killed herself like that?”

“I mean I loved Mom, but I let’s just say she wasn’t the fastest swimmer in the gene pool bro,” I suggest before thinking about it and adding, “Actually she was barely swimming.  She was the one weird little kid who jumps into the deep end and splashes around hoping someone will come and save her.”

“You don’t get it.  I saw her face…” Kwamie explains, “She was on a mission.  She WANTED to go to that house.  She WANTED to kill herself there.”

“That doesn’t make sense…”

“I know,” he remarks, “I think that’s more reason we should stay away from the Stuyvesants.”

Kwamie may have had a point.  He was dramatic so you literally had to take everything he said with a grain of salt, tone it down and remove the flare.  Even with his dramatic delivery, I knew that he had a point.  My mother had killed herself in front of the Stuyvesants.  She did it on purpose.

But why?

~

Time  passes by quickly.  I’m trying to call Bishop to talk to him.  I have a feeling he’s not going to show up for the dinner later that day.    I find myself falling asleep and being woken up by Kwamie.

“We’re here.”

Kwamie’s already carrying me up the stairs into our apartment.  We get into the apartment and immediately I get a text.

“Is that Leo?” Kwamie asks, “It’s after 7.  Tell him we were running a little behind.”

“If you had actually got some real food and not bullshit we wouldn’t have been in this situation to begin with…”

“Well we figured it out…”

“It wasn’t Leo…it was Carrington.  He wants to talk about earlier,” I sigh.

 

“Don’t,” Kwame warns me.

I put my phone down. He had a point.  Carrington wasn’t shit.  He never was.   Just at that moment I see Bishop come out of the room.  He’s wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist.

 

“You been here?” I ask him.

 

“Yeah…”

“Can you put some clothes on?” I ask him, “Leo should be coming over any minute now?”

“Leo?” Bishop asks, “Oh, he’s not coming.”

“Yes he is.  We talked about that.”

“He came already silly.  I sent him away.”

I’m confused.  We both look over at Bishop . Bishop had that look on his face.  The kind of look that tells you he’s up to something.

“Why would you do that?”

“Because I’m not going to entertain someone who isn’t good for my brother,” he explains.

 

 

I’m pissed at that moment.  I grab Bishop by his collar.

“Bishop what the FUCK!”

“He’s no good and I have proof.”

“What kind of proof?”

Bishop pushes me off of him.  He goes and grabs his phone.  A second later I get an alert to my phone.   I pick up my phone.

 

 

“Oh my god,” Kwamie says looking over my shoulder.

Bishop stares at me and shakes his head, “I’m sorry I had to show you this.  But the world is a harsh place.  And you need to refocus.  Love is nothing more than a waste of time.  And you had to learn the hard way.”

I look down at my phone.

My heart breaks.

 

In my phone was a video of the man I loved.  The man who loved me back.  LEO.

 

“GIVE IT TO ME, BISHOP!”  Leo is screaming out loud.

“Say my name louder whore.”

 

“BISHOP, BISHOP, BISHOP…”

I drop the phone.   Leo is getting fucked by Bishop in the video.