Title: And Now For Something Different
Chapter Title: Last Call
Disclaimer; I have no legal claim on Oaks.
Brendan sighed as he walked back into the bar, eyeing the mess of bottles and glasses, puddles of spilt beer on the floor. Slipping out of Chez Chez to answer a phone call, Brendan had instructed Ashleigh Kane and Joel Dexter to begin cleaning, when they were near to closing. The call had run on longer than intended and Brendan pocketed his mobile phone ruefully, looking around the empty room with a frown. Where were his employees?
Ash raced into the room at that moment, and saw Brendan immediately.
"Good crowd?" Brendan asked distractedly, watching Ash fumble for her mobile, not even looking at him.
"Uh, normal Thursday crowd…"
"Where's Joel?"
"I don't know, he left me to deal with all this, listen, I gotta go-"
"No you don't," Brendan snapped, catching hold of her slim wrist as she tried to walk right past him, her bag hanging off her arm. "With Joel M.I.A, you're cleaning up."
Ash bit her lip and shook her head. "Boss, I'm sorry but Callum rang-"
"Your brother?"
"Mum's passed out, the ambulance came, I don't know, I've gotta go, I'll clean up in the morning-"
Brendan nodded begrudgingly and Ash sagged in relief. "Go, Ashleigh. All the mess will be here for you in the morning. Go see your mammy."
"Thanks, Brendan, give Joel a kick from me when you see him for leaving me in the lurch. I better go- oh, before I forget, we got a straggler- he's drunk and passed out- or sleeping- over there, so you're gonna have to-"
"Alright, alright, go, Ashleigh, now or I'll take this time out your break tomorrow."
Ash left with her phone pressed to her ear.
Brendan rolled his sleeves up his forearms, making his way to the corner of the room, where he had just noticed the still figure Ash had mentioned. He planned to wake this man up, not wanting to haul him out, give him the bum's rush. Brendan couldn't very well let him kip here- the man could steal something.
When Brendan got nearer, he realised it was Dodger Savage, Dirk Savage's son. Chatty, charming jack-the-lad Dodger Savage. Brendan had never really had time for him, but he had no issues with him. He reached forward and roughly shook Dodger (and after all, what sort of name is Dodger?), deciding that he'd throw a bucket of cold water over him if the man didn't stir. The comedy appeal would be worth it, no matter how annoyed Dodger got.
But Dodger did wake from Brendan's attempts to rouse him; he groaned and groggily raised his head from his crossed arms, blinking blearily up at Brendan.
"What time is it?"
"Late. Get up."
Dodger swallowed and coughed and Brendan took a hasty step back, wondering if the man was going to vomit. Ash wouldn't be happy about having to clear that up but Brendan sure as hell wasn't going to do it.
"Eugh…my 'ead…" He slumped forward, eyes closing.
Brendan rolled his eyes, yanking Dodger's collar to make him raise his head again. "No, don't do that here. Go home- you do have a home, don't you? Go…somewhere. I'll call you a cab." He tried to turn away but Dodger grabbed his hand, tugging it in a drunkenly playful way.
"Brett…"
"Brendan."
"S-sorry, hic, Brendan. You ever been in love, Brendan?"
The bartender scowled. He wasn't going to share his love life with a random customer. "No."
"I fought I was in love. Maybe. I 'ad a date tonight, my fifth date wiv this gorgeous girl, went to see 'er earlier tonight actually…"
"And?" In spite of himself, Brendan was curious.
"And 'er boyfriend showed up."
"Ah."
"Yeah. But tha's the fing, innit? Girls. Some of 'em, yeah, most of 'em are all that, they're great. A lot of my mates settled down and they love it. But me? I end up wiv…wiv the liars and tarts and scrubbers. That girl, she- she and me could've been good…but she- she don't know what she's missing-"
"Yeah yeah, you're a stone cold fox." Brendan sighed, grasping Dodger by the arm to help him stagger into a standing position. Dodger's blue short was short-sleeved, and Brendan couldn't help but appreciate the toned arm, muscles flexing under his fingers as Dodger leaned heavily against him. Brendan was a hot-blooded male after all.
"Ta," Dodger squinted at Brendan, a small smile appearing on his face. That Hollywood grin, although sheepish and dopey, was pleasing on his chiselled features, and Brendan found himself smiling back. "You're not too bad yourself, Brendan." And Dodger leaned forward, planting a wet, sloppy kiss on Brendan's mouth.
Brendan broke the contact, their damp lips unsticking with a sound like plunger unblocking a drain. He stared at Dodger for a whole minute, but Dodger didn't do anything except look back at him with half-lidded, sleepy eyes.
"Dodger…you like women?"
"Yeah, course, ladies' man- that's me!"
"So why…?"
Dodger lurched forward and Brendan automatically grabbed his waist, trying to prevent him from falling, but Dodger had other things on his mind than meeting the floor. He seized Brendan's waist, his fingers tugging at the belt, to bring Brendan closer. When Brendan fell forward, led by his belt, the movement made him push Dodger fast against the bar, their bodies crushed together.
"Fought maybe I'd try somefing different,"
"You can't be serious."
"Fuck me, Brendan. Show me what it's like…wiv a guy." He whispered the last words, his hot lips brushing Brendan's ear and the smell of beer on his breath. Brendan's mouth ran dry and he inhaled sharply.
"I'm not taking advantage of you, Dodger. I don't want your family on my back for popping your gay cherry."
"It's not takin' advantage if I want it."
"Dodger…"
"C'mon, Brendan…you fuck boys, so why not fuck a man? And I've 'ad so many girls you know I just be good."
It was tempting, definitely tempting. If Dodger did, or said one more thing, Brendan wasn't going to be held responsible for his actions, the wrath of Dirk Savage or not.
"Come on," Dodger whispered, pushing against Brendan so he could feel the hard muscle of his six-pack under his thin cotton t-shirt, and the hard bulge in his jeans. Brendan could feel himself getting hard, and Dodger drunkenly rutting against him was doing nothing to stop that.
"Oh, shit, Dodger," he groaned, pressing back even though he knew it would do nothing to clear his head. He cupped Dodger's firm, denim-clad arse and ground his groin against Dodger's, moaning aloud at the warmth sparking up his crotch.
Without another word, Brendan pulled Dodger along, until he could shove him hard at the wall, smirking a little at the surprised gasp Dodger gave. Brendan quickly fetched a small tub of Vaseline and a couple of condoms from his office , pleased to see Dodger exactly where he'd left him.
Brendan's mouth fell open when he saw Dodger with his jeans pooled around his ankles, his cock hard and flushed between his hands, furiously jacking himself off. Brendan placed the condoms and lube on the bar, wagging his finger sardonically at Dodger and saying "Naughty, naughty," before taking Dodger's hands off his prick. Dodger grumbled and muttered something incoherent, but Brendan didn't care about the younger man's discomfort because he'd just freed his own erection and the feeling of his own hands on it was a relief. He unwrapped the condom, putting it on his aching cock lest he forgot to do it when he was…caught up with Dodger.
With his protection taken care of, Brendan was free to touch Dodger, and he wasted no time, falling to his knees so that he could hoist Dodger's t-shirt up and let his hands roam over the smooth, tanned flesh. Brendan admired Dodger for this and only this, the attention he paid to making his own body look better. Brendan's hands fit perfectly over the moulded sculpture of the firm pectorals and abdomen. He even leant closer and licked Dodger's chest, just dragged his tongue along, letting the wet appendage dip along the curves of the six-pack, lapping at the slightly sweating skin. Dodger's chest was shaved, so Brendan's tongue was able to slide flatly on the flesh, and he didn't even have to pull Dodger's jeans and pants down, the man had done it when Brendan was in the office.
Dodger straightened up, his crotch now at mouth level. Dodger thrust his hips weakly, the tip of his cock brushing Brendan's lips, and Brendan took the hint. Without taking his eyes off the long, hard member, he managed to grab the other condom from the bar, straining to reach up to the bar from his position on the floor. At some point, he accidentally knelt in one of the puddles of spilt alcohol and he glowered at the coldness seeping into the knee of his trousers, but the whimper Dodger gave when Brendan eased the condom on him was delicious and Brendan's annoyance at the stain on his trousers was soon forgotten.
He took Dodger into his mouth with no warning, sucking hard and without teasing or patience. Dodger squirmed, trying to fuck Brendan's mouth but it took Brendan no effort to hold Dodger's hips still, sucking painfully hard, with his tongue flat against Dodger's cock, giving no other stimulation at all. He pulled off with a wet popping noise that sounded too loud in the deserted bar, and got to his feet, out of breath.
Dodger met Brendan's eyes fleetingly, but his gaze skittered away nervously. Brendan has no patience to be reassuring him, so he used Dodger's shoulders to guide him around to facing the wall. The lubricant was cool and smooth on Brendan's fingers, and he greased the digits up, coating them thickly in the stuff before nudging Dodger's legs apart with his foot. Dodger tensed, but Brendan bit the back of his neck in a quick, reproachful nip, and Dodger braced his hands on the wall, ready for Brendan's touch.
He stuck a finger roughly into Dodger, ignoring the resulting yelp and the muscle clenching around his finger. He stabbed it in and out a few times and added another, working the fingers in and out, using his free hand to either part Dodger reassuringly on the shoulder or restrain him, depending on each reaction. At one particular prod, Dodger moaned, a deep, masculine groan that set a molten stream of arousal, running like liquid fire through Brendan's body. He couldn't postpone it any longer and didn't want to- he wanted to fuck Dodger into the wall, hard and deep, now.
He pushed his own trousers further down his legs, smearing the stickiness on his fingers onto the material, and gripped Dodger's hips to steady him. Brendan took a breath and then pushed in, his cock pushing past the stretched but still fucking tight hole, until he was buried in hot skin.
"Ah, God, Dodger…so tight…"
"Mmm, Brendan, m-move…"
He compromised, using his hold on Dodger's hips to push Dodger's arse of his cock and then force him back onto it, impaling the man. This encouraged deep thrusts and Brendan began panting, his moans torn from him in a desperate torrent of curses, breaths and gasps. One of Dodger's sweaty hands slid down the wall and ended at his groin; he wanked while Brendan pounded into him. Brendan was close, he knew it, and be gave one last deep, hard thrust before he lost himself, shouting out Dodger's name, spilling his load into the condom, into Dodger. Dodger's hand had sped up from its position on his cock so he was close to, Brendan reached around and gave a couple of pulls to Dodger's cock and before he knew it, Dodger was fucking himself urgently on Brendan's softening dick, swearing as he succumbed to his own climax.
Brendan was the first to move when both men had calmed down, he straightened his clothes, disposing of the condom, and stowing the Vaseline away in his jacket pocket. Dodger had also attempted to make himself look presentable, but was now sitting at the bar, looking absolutely exhausted. Tired but satisfied.
"Don't try that little stunt again," Brendan called out as he bustled around the bar, trying to find his wallet to pay for a cab. It was the least he owed Dodger. "Not that I didn't like it. I just think we don't need these complications, you know? I've got my life and you've got girls…" Where was the number for the taxi service? Brendan at last found the slip of paper." Dodger, can you hear me?"
But Dodger had fallen fast asleep.
Brendan muttered darkly and rang the number.
"Hi, I'd like a taxi, please. Uh-huh, to Chez Chez…"
