Coming Home: Davis Brothers Ch. 01

"How's your love life?" Ben asked his brother, hoping for one of his infamous juicy stories. "Seeing anyone?"

"Yeah, the business is doing good," Brandon replied, ignoring his brother's question with a smirk. "Walker just bought a fixer-upper on auction. We're gonna try to flip it. After we see mom, I'm heading over there to look at it."

"You haven't seen it yet?" Benji asked, surprised.

"Nope. Walker said it was a good deal. I trust him, or he wouldn't be my business partner."

"You've known him since the service, right?" Ben asked as he chewed on a nacho chip.

Benji cleared his throat and pointed to his chin. Ben looked down at Benji and slid his tongue under his bottom lip. Benji laughed and shook his head. Ben reached up and wiped the stray blob of cheddar and sour cream from his chin. He looked at it with a frown and then pushed his messy finger into Benji's face. Benji laughed and dodged the finger, but Ben was laughing and just kept poking, trying to get Benji's nose. Benji suddenly grabbed Ben's hand and sucked the finger into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks as he slowly pulled it out.

Brandon about spewed beer all over the table, shocked at the sight. "Fuck me," he groaned as he stared wide-eyed, running the back of his sleeve across his beer-soaked chin.

Benji wiped his mouth with his napkin and snickered.

"I got something I want to show you in the bathroom," Ben said, his voice deep and throaty, his eyes narrowed to slits.

Benji didn't miss Ben's hand discreetly kneading his bulging crotch under the table. He shook his head and folded his arms across his chest. "No way. If you think I'm falling for that one again... You already got us kicked out of my favorite restaurant. I thought I would die of embarrassment. I can't show my face there ever again!"

Ben actually looked like he was blushing and Brandon slapped his hand on this thigh and laughed until tears streamed down his cheeks and his gut ached.

After finishing lunch, Ben had to use the bathroom and told Benji to wait by the truck.

Brandon snickered as he and Benji walked out of the restaurant together. "That cheese must have run right through him."

Benji leaned against Brandon's enormous pickup truck and looked up at the older man. Brandon pulled a lighter and a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and packed them against his hand.

"You should quit, you know," Benji said.

"I know," Brandon acknowledged. He shoved the pack back into his jacket. He had tried to quit so many times before, but something would stress him out and he'd start back up again. He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, where a knot of pain had settled.

"You haven't been over in like three weeks, Bran. We miss having you around."

Brandon shrugged. "I've been busy with work and all. Besides the remodeling, we're trying to get into flipping..."

"Yeah. It's just... Ben misses you. And I miss you, too."

Benji looked up at the big guy. He knew that he was giving him the 'puppy dog face', but he couldn't help it. He had come to think of Brandon as his big brother and lately he seemed distracted and stressed out and was always too busy to come over to hang out. He had grown used to seeing Brandon two or three times a week.

Brandon sighed and grabbed Benji's arm and pulled him close. The big man wrapped his arms around Benji and gave him a tight hug. "I'll try harder to make time for you guys. You know you and Ben are my favoritest people in the world."

Benji leaned his head on Brandon's chest and let out sigh. "Good."

Benji felt a growing pressure against his stomach. When he realized what it was, he gasped and stepped back, unable to look Brandon in the eye. A quick glance at Brandon's crotch verified it and Benji couldn't tear his eyes away fast enough.

"Sorry," Brandon mumbled as he shoved his fists into his front pockets and took a step backwards.

***

Brandon Davis entered the address of the house flip into his GPS and put his truck into gear.

He couldn't believe that he got a fucking boner while hugging Benji. The little man had been totally mortified. Things were awkward for a few moments, but by the time they got to the nursing home, it seemed like things were mostly okay and Brandon's gaffe was somewhat forgotten, but Brandon could tell that Benji was a little more reserved and slightly nervous around him. He just prayed that he didn't say anything to Ben. He wasn't looking forward to having to explain to his brother why he was pressing his cock against his boyfriend.

On the bright side, their Mom had a good day today. Brandon hated seeing his mom in the home. But with the Alzheimer's getting worse and worse, he and Ben just couldn't handle taking care of her. She needed full time help. It killed him and his brother to do it, but it was for the best.

Brandon was grateful for today. Mom not only remember him, but she remembered both Ben and Benji as well. A lot of times she wouldn't know who Benji was or she'd be unintentionally cruel to him, but they all knew that she didn't mean it. Though Benji knew that she wasn't herself during those times, the words still hurt. Brandon hated to see the little guy in pain, almost as much as Ben did.

It wasn't that Brandon wanted Benji. He liked the idea of Benji more than anything. Ben was so happy and that made Brandon happy. Ben spent most of his life alone and miserable, no one seeing him for the good man that he was. He deserved someone like Benji, who saw what a good person he was on the inside and loved him unconditionally, faults and all.

That he got a boner while hugging the little guy made him feel like the biggest fucking heel in the world. Still... even Brandon admitted to himself that there was something about Benji. He was so damned cute, so quiet and shy. And from what Ben told him, he was simply out of this world in the sack, all traces of shyness gone once they were in bed together. But more than that, he was so loving and devoted to Ben. That's what Brandon wanted. Someone like that. But a girl. Definitely a girl.

Brandon was married once. The marriage didn't last and the divorce was ugly. His ex-wife Ginny was a selfish cow. Brandon didn't normally reminisce on their years together and he wasn't going to start now. The next time Brandon got involved with someone, it would be someone like Benji. But not a guy.

Brandon didn't go for dudes. He was straight. That buddy of his in the Army didn't count. It was the circumstances of the situation. Besides, it was just a blowjob. Okay, it was a bunch of blowjobs. But his buddy was doing the sucking, not Brandon. So it didn't count. That last time they were together before he was transferred, Brandon gave him a handjob. But that didn't count either. It was just a guy thing. All guys do stuff like that when they're young and horny.

When the GPS announced that Brandon arrived at his destination, he was surprised. He was so lost in thought that he drove the twenty minutes without even remembering how he got there.

When he looked up at the house, he cursed under his breath. He double-checked the address. "Fuck."

The place looked like something straight out of a 50's horror movie. The ranch home was clearly abandoned and in disrepair. The front yard was completely overgrown, more weeds than grass. The sides and back weren't even sodded, just dirt with patches of weeds. The garage door was falling off its hinges.

On the plus side, it was a good sized home on a nice plot of land, at the end of a dead-end street with lots of space between its closest neighbor. But it was definitely going to be more work than they planned or budgeted.

He let the diesel engine of his F-250 rumble idle and turned the radio down. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed Walker Adams on speed dial. It went right to voice mail. After the beep, Brandon cut right to the chase: "This place is a fucking piece of shit, Walker. I'm gonna fucking kill you when I see you in the morning."

Brandon pressed the end button on the phone and tossed it onto the passenger's seat. He shut off the engine and opened the door and hopped down onto the ground.

At six-foot-seven and 320 pounds, Brandon Davis was an intimidating figure. He definitely planned on using that intimidation when he saw his business partner the next day.

He scratched his fingers through the beard growing on his face. The dark auburn hair was nice and thick, unlike the hair on the crown of his head. Even though he'd been out of the service for 12 years, he still kept his hair cut in military standard. He reached up and pulled the old Browning ball cap off his head, scrubbed his hand over his head and down his face.

He replaced the ball cap, then slid his hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out his pack of cigarettes. He shook one out and cupping his hand over the end, lit it. He inhaled the smoke deep into his lungs and felt himself relaxing a little as the nicotine ran through him. He rolled his head on his neck until he felt the satisfying pops.

He grabbed a pen, clipboard and measuring tape from the truck's lock box and started to take notes.

The front porch looked like it was about to fall down from wood rot and the grass had completely overgrown the sidewalk. Brandon didn't feel like wading through thigh-high weeds or having his big ass fall through the porch. The back door looked to be the best option for entering the place.

When he got to the back of the house, Brandon took one last drag of his smoke and then dropped the butt on the ground and stomped it out with his size fourteen steel-toe.

He stepped towards the crumbling concrete steps that led to the back door and froze when the sudden odor of shit assaulted his nose. He looked down and lifted his foot.

"Motherfucker!"

He looked around and noted the little piles that littered the back yard, some of them looking a little too fresh. He walked over to the faucet next to the back door and turned the handle, relieved when water poured out. He lifted his boot under the stream and tried to clean it as best as he could with the water while scraping it against the home's concrete foundation.

He shut the water off, and stepped up to the back door. The doggy door caught his eye and when he kicked it, it swung open freely. "A-ha. Got you, you little shit."

He went to unlock the door with the keys that Walker gave him, but it was already unlocked. He pushed open the door and found himself in the kitchen.

He tried the light switch next to the door a couple times, but there was no electricity. That should get switched over in the next couple days or so. Hopefully before next Monday when they were supposed to start demolition. They would need power to run their tools.

The kitchen was a little musty, but not too bad. There were no appliances and the cabinets were shit. Of course it would all need to be gutted and modernized. Brandon made some notes and took some measurements, then made his way further into the house. As he walked into the living room, he noted that the house wasn't as bad as he thought, at least from the inside. It had a nice layout and even though it was abandoned due to foreclosure, it was in reasonably good shape. The outside was completely fucked up, though. It had no curb appeal whatsoever.

Yip!

Brandon jumped and spun around, startled by the sudden noise. He looked down to see a yappy little mutt glaring at him. It looked like somebody's science experiment gone wrong. Definitely a chihuahua, and some other mutt mixed together.

The ugly little dog growled, showing off his sharp little teeth, and then barked again, trying to do his best demon dog impersonation.

Brandon was not having that bullshit.

"Listen here, you little squatter," Brandon growled back. "This is my fucking house. Not yours. I'm the big dog 'round here. And you... Well, you are outta here."

The dog stepped back and sat down on its butt. It cocked its head to the side like it was listening to Brandon.

Brandon lifted his boot. "You see that? That's your shit. I outta rub your nose in it..."

Brandon shook his head, wondering why he was talking to a fucking dog. He went through the rest of the ranch-style house, making notes as he went along. The little shit followed him the whole time, cautious, but no longer barking or growling.

When Brandon stepped into the master bedroom, he was surprised to see a mattress. The bare full-sized mattress sat on the ground and had several blankets on it, the only piece of furniture in the whole house. Brandon looked down at the dog. "This where you sleep?"

The dog bounded over to the bed and sat down on one end and laid its head down on its front paws.

Brandon kicked his foot at a couple of black garbage bags. They looked like they were filled with clothes. They'd get rid of this stuff during demo. He was just grateful that this was all there was. It would save them at least one roll-off container.

He peeked his head in the master bath and noted that it would need to be completely gutted. He turned and headed for the back door, the little dog hot on his heels.

The dog rushed around his legs and dashed through the doggy door.

Brandon chuckled. "Oh yeah, well, I got you now, you little shit."

Brandon squatted down and looked for a way to block the door. He noticed the door's locking mechanism and reached for the latch. He hesitated for a moment and then jumped when the door pushed open and the little dog bounded back through. It looked up at Brandon and blinked and wagged its tail.

Brandon stood up to his full height and looked down at the dog and let out a sigh. "Yeah, well, I guess you can stick around for a few more days until we start demo. At least you're keeping the rats and shit away. But after that, it's off to the pound."

***

Brandon pulled into the parking lot in front of the Davis & Adams Remodeling business office. His friend and business partner, Walker Adams, was standing in front of the window having a smoke. The lean, wiry man was in good shape for his age, except for a little bulge around the middle. He enjoyed a few too many beers in front of the TV each weekend, not that Brandon had any room to talk.

When Walker saw Brandon get out of the truck, his eyes widened and he flicked his smoke onto the pavement and hurried inside the office.

Brandon growled and narrowed his eyes at his friend's retreating back. Pussy.

"What's up?" Walker asked as Brandon sat down in front of his desk.

"You know damn well what's up. You were supposed to find a cheap and easy remodel for our first flip. We're trying to grow the business, not tank it."

Neither of them said it out loud, but with the economy in the tank, their remodeling business had slowed way down. Flipping broke-down houses was a huge risk in today's market. Most frustrating for Brandon was that while he stressed over it, Walker seemed to take it in stride.

"Man, it was a fucking steal, though. I got it for a quarter of the value. We'll make a profit no matter how much we put into it. Stop worrying about everything all the time. Christ, you're gonna give yourself a fucking ulcer."

"Did you even see the place before you bid on it?" Brandon asked as he rubbed the knot on the back of his neck. He rolled his head back and forth until his neck cracked with a series of snaps.

"No. But I got a flyer," he said. He pulled out a sheet of paper with pretty pictures, likely from an attempted sale before it fell under foreclosure. "How bad can it be?"

"Well, I'm sure it looked like that before Norman Bates took it over and rented it out to the Munsters."

Walker burst out laughing and Brandon couldn't help but laugh with him.

Walker shook his head at his friend. "I'll have Jess go over there first thing today to draw up the plans."

Walker cleared his throat and Brandon swore his cheeks started to flush. Brandon smirked to himself. Walker had the hots for the young architect they sub-contracted to, but for some reason was too chicken shit to ask her out, even though it was apparent that she was interested.

"Good. I want to get the permits finalized and start demo next week. And ask the woman out already, you pussy."

***

As Brandon sat down on the couch, Toby jumped up and laid his head on his lap. Brandon reached down and scratched at the little Schnauzer's neck. This is what a dog was supposed to look like. Toby was just too cute. That ugly little thing over at the flip house was just not right.

Benji held out a bottle of Bud Light to him, and Brandon took it and tipped his head back and drank a long pull. "Thanks, little bro."

"You're welcome," Benji replied. He cleared his throat nervously and then sat down on the other end of the couch as far away from Brandon as he could, without trying to be obvious about, or so he thought. "Ben should be back any minute."

Brandon nodded and took another drink of his beer. He kept his eyes on the ground as he quietly spoke, "Benji... About yesterday—"

Benji shook his head. "It's okay."

"No. I just wanted you to know that I'm not— I wasn't trying to hit on you... It's just that..." He let out a sigh and glanced over at Benji. The little man had his hands in his lap and was wringing his fingers. Brandon knew he had to get this out and do it right. He couldn't have the little guy be scared or nervous around him. That would just kill him. "It's been a long time," he said quietly.

Benji looked up at Brandon, surprise clearly written across his face. "Oh. I thought..."

"No. I haven't really been with anyone since my ex-wife. I make up shit for Ben's sake. It's better if he thinks I'm some kind of pussy hound." Benji cringed at the vulgar word and Brandon couldn't help but smirk. "Then he won't worry about me. So when you held me like that... Well, it made me feel..." Brandon rubbed a hand over the stubble of his crew cut, trying to come up with the right word...

"Horny?" Benji offered.

"No. Well, maybe a little. I was thinking more like... special."

"Oh." Benji gave Brandon a genuine smile for the first time since he arrived. Benji slid closer and Brandon felt the stress leave his shoulders. "I understand, Brandon. You are special. You're a really nice guy. Any woman would be lucky to have a guy like you."

"Yeah? You think?"

"I know," he said. He pressed his index finger into the middle of Brandon's chest. "Under all that gruffness is a sweet guy who's loyal and protective and loving. You've got a big heart."

"What makes you so sure? I can be a mean bastard."

"Because you're my Ben's best friend and you helped raise him and make him the man he is. He's wonderful because you are."

"Delivery!"

Brandon was relieved to hear Ben's voice as he walked through the front door. The conversation was getting too intense. But Benji was back to his normal self, smiling and not afraid to come near Brandon, so it was worth it. And spending time with his brothers was better than sitting home alone.

***

Brandon looked down at the doggy bag that Benji gave him. It was literally a doggy bag. While playing with Toby, Brandon thought about the ugly little mutt at the flip house and asked for a bit of Toby's food.

Benji just about burst into tears at Brandon's gesture. "See, I told you," he had said. "You have a big heart. Not everyone would feed a stray mutt. You should take him home with you."

"Fuck that!" he had replied, nearly choking, making Benji descend into a giggle fit.

He pulled into the driveway of the flip and shut off the engine. He grabbed the ziploc baggie filled with kibbles and walked around to the back door, making sure to avoid any landmines left by the little squatter.

Brandon noted that the electricity had been turned over, since he could see light spilling out of one of the windows. Someone must have left the bathroom light on. Brandon opened the back door and made his way into the house.