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Arts & Culture

Getting into all sorts of trouble

Photo by Julián Gentilezza on Unsplash



Part 5

“Here you go, Zach, this will be your room. The bathroom across the hall is all yours, Blake and I have our own off our bedroom. There are towels in the cupboard, and if you need any extra toiletry items just let us know because we always keep extras…” Brad informed Zach as he gave him the tour of their home.
“A little help please!” yelled Blake from the front door.
“Did you buy the whole store out?” laughed Brad. “This was just supposed to be dinner for three, not for the Queen.”
“You two just grab a bag and head your asses into the kitchen…” grinned Blake, handing grocery bags to Brad and Zach. “I wanted to make a good dinner for our new house guest. But don’t expect this every night…”
“Don’t listen to Blake…” Brad explained to Zach. “He cooks a feast every night, and it always tastes amazing!”
“Thanks, guys, really you didn’t have to do all this, but I want you to know that it means a lot to me…” said Zach. “I can’t remember the last time I was treated this nicely.”
“No problem, now how about you and Brad go throw on a movie or play some hoops or something while I make dinner…” instructed Blake, wanting the guys out of his way so he could focus in the kitchen.
“That sounds perfect…” smiled Brad. “Zach, you up for shooting some hoops?”
“Sure!” nodded Zach. “Let me change into some gym shorts and I’ll be right out.”
“Hey, that’s is nice of you to make this big dinner for Zach…” said Brad, draping his arm affectionately across Blake’s shoulders.
“No problem…” winked Blake. “I kind of like having the kid here already, but I hope this is a good thing we’re doing in the long run. We don’t even know that much about him. How do we know that we’re doing this right? It’s not like we’ve ever parented before?”
“Well, I trust Leroy, and he wouldn’t steer us wrong…” reassured Brad. “Besides, the extra income is giving us some breathing room with our finances.”
“I guess you’re right…” shrugged Blake, not sounding totally convinced.
“Just give it some time and let’s try and make it work…” said Brad, moving behind Blake so he could wrap his arms around him, gently kissing him on the back of the neck, reassuring him.
“Ready?” asked Zach, returning to the kitchen after having changed into his shorts.
“Got to go, the boy is ready!” laughed Brad as he ran after Zach. Blake smiled to himself as he opened a bottle of wine and started on dinner.
“Okay, kid, let’s see what you got…” said Brad as he distracted Zach, grabbed the ball and made a shot.
“Oh, I see… we’re going to play that way…” taunted Zach as he dribbled past Brad and gained a point.
“Not bad, kid, but don’t get too cocky, I almost went Pro…” declared Brad as he popped off another shot for a point.
“How about a little less talk and little more playing…” laughed Zach.
About an hour had passed before Zach called a timeout. “Hold up, I’m going to run in and grab some water, do you want some?”
“Sure, thanks, kid!” gasped Brad, as he wiped the sweat from his forehead, and pulled off his sweat-drenched t-shirt. “It’s hot out here…” Zach’s eyes locked on Brad’s bare chest, covered in sweat. Zach followed suit and peeled off his shirt as well before heading inside to get the water.
“Who won?” asked Blake, as Zach came running into the kitchen with nothing but his basketball shorts hanging low on his waist.
“Still going…” grinned Zach. “I’m just grabbing some water. Give us five more minutes so I can beat Brad — I’m down two points.”
“There’s cold bottled water in the fridge, help yourself…” instructed Blake, turning his attention away from his meal preparations to check that Zach had found the water. Blake almost dropped the knife he was holding as he took in the sight of Zach wearing nothing but his gym shorts and sneakers.
“Got it!” declared Zach, as he grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge. He opened one up and took a long drink.
The sweat was running down Zach’s face. Blake’s eyes followed one drop that went down his neck to his smooth chest. It ran between his beautiful pecs and ever so slowly down his perfectly chiseled six-pack abs, only to be lost in the waistband of his basketball shorts.
“That boy is going to get me into all sorts of trouble…” muttered Blake to himself, turning his focus back to the vegetables he was chopping as Zach ran back outside to resume the game.
“Here you go, something to cool you off, old man…” grinned Zach, throwing a bottle of water to Brad.
“Who are you calling old man?” protested Brad. “Aren’t you down by two points?”
Brad was having a hard time focusing on the game, he was constantly getting distracted by Zach, shirtless, showing off his six-pack abs that were covered in sweat.
“I told Blake that I only needed another five minutes to beat you…” declared Zach.
“Less talk, more play…” dismissed Brad.
Zach carefully dribbled the ball as he approached the basket, but suddenly stepped in towards Brad and made contact.
“Foul!” yelled Brad. “What kind of move was that? You can’t just go around grabbing guys balls just because you’re behind and want to win!”
“Relax!” grinned Zach. “I barely grazed them. What are you going to do about it, anyway?” Brad retaliated by grabbing Zach in a bear-hug and started tickling him intensely.
“Stop! Stop!” yelled Zach, laughing hysterically.
In the tussle, they fell on the grass. Brad landed on top of Zach, their bodies crunching together, the sweat on their skin sliding between them. Brad continued to tickle the squirming Zach as he laughed and tried to wriggle out of Brad’s bear-hug.
“You’ve got five minutes to get cleaned up and then it’s dinner time!” yelled Blake from the kitchen.
“Coming!” yelled Brad, immediately releasing his hold on Zach and rolling off the young guy’s body.
“Pretty sure that I won…” winked Zach, taking Brad’s outstretched hand to pull himself up off the grass.
“Because you cheated!” shouted Brad, as Zach disappeared into the house. Brad decided to wait outside for a moment to try and calm his hard cock down. Wrestling with Zach had got him more excited than he’d expected, he hoped that Zach hadn’t felt his boner through his shorts while he was laying on top of him. Plus, he didn’t want to start any dramas with Blake by walking into the house with his hard cock on display.
“This kid is going to get me in all sorts of trouble…” Brad muttered to himself.

Can I call you Uncle?

Can I Call You Uncle? is the first in the Coyote Tales series of erotic gay fiction written by Coyote and Gareth Johnson.

We’re currently serialising the story. This is the fifth instalment — read earlier episodes here.

Read more from Gareth Johnson

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Arts & Culture

Hoxton Street

London. Life.



Image supplied

“I watched the RuPaul Christmas special last night…” said Charlie, as they slid into a booth at Monty’s. “What on earth was that gay nonsense?”

“Didn’t that air last week?” asked Kellen, unwinding his scarf and taking off his bobble-hat.

“I watched it on Netflix last night…” shrugged Charlie. “I needed a break from the wall-to-wall coverage of Theresa May winning the vote to continue leading us off a cliff.”

“The RuPaul thing wasn’t that bad, was it?” suggested Kellen. “It’s great that drag is mainstream enough to have a Christmas special like that.”

“That’s total bullshit!” dismissed Charlie. “I’m pleased that some drag queens are making some money, but that doesn’t mean that we can’t call them out when they make rubbish television!”

“That’s homophobic…” replied Kellen.

“Don’t be ridiculous!” laughed Charlie. “I’m gay. I can’t be homophobic!”

“It’s your internalised homophobia speaking…” explained Kellen. “Or, as RuPaul would say – it’s your inner-saboteur.”

“What can I get you guys?” interrupted the waitress, coming over to take their order.

“Um… I’ll just have a Reuben…” decided Kellen, quickly looking at the menu. “And a black coffee, please.”

“Just a coffee for me, thanks…” added Charlie. “Black.”

“You’re not eating?” queried Kellen, as the waitress headed off to place their order.

“I’m not that hungry…” shrugged Charlie. “Anyway, I thought I’d share some of your Reuben – they’re enormous, and you never eat it all. They haven’t the caught the guy who shot up the Christmas market in Strasbourg, have they?”

“No, but I saw on the news this morning that they’ve released details of the suspect that they’re looking for…” replied Kellen. “Horrific. Imagine being there.”

“I know, right?” agreed Charlie. “Brings back all the memories of the attack on Borough Market. I’ve never been to Strasbourg. Have you?”

“No, but I’ve heard that the Christmas markets are worth a visit…” replied Kellen. “Just not this year, I guess.”

“I’ll put it on my wish-list…” grinned Charlie. “For when I win the lottery.”

“How’s work going?” asked Kellen.

“Busy!” nodded Charlie.

“So, what are you working on today?” asked Kellen.


“Oh, just some longer-term projects…” shrugged Charlie. “Putting together some pitches for next year, that kind of thing. You know how things are when you’re freelance.”

“When you say ‘freelance’…” began Kellen. “Are you using that as code for unemployed?”

“That’s a bit offensive!” laughed Charlie. “I have clients! I’m working!”

“Sure…” shrugged Kellen. “But is anyone paying you?”

“Well… It’s early days…” admitted Charlie. “I’m definitely making some good progress.”

“Charlie, how are you paying the bills?” pushed Kellen.

“Um… Things have been a bit tight…” acknowledged Charlie. “But I’ve got to make this work.”

“How about I buy you a Reuben?” offered Kellen.

“That would be a Christmas miracle…” smiled Charlie. “I promise I won’t ever again criticise RuPaul.”

This is the second episode of the serial, Hoxton Street.

Read more from Gareth Johnson

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