Chapter 12: Chapter 12
The thunder of a diesel engine rumbling to a stop outside the house was their Thursday morning alarm. Chris peered through the blinds to see Scott and Jermaine unfolding themselves from their large vans, followed by their boys, Bashir and Juan, who immediately began unloading tools and long lengths of plastic sheeting.
The next few hours were a whirlwind of controlled chaos. Chris and Kevin offered to help, but Jermaine just clapped Chris on the shoulder. “You just keep the coffee coming, mate. This is our specialty.” Scott nodded in agreement, his eyes already scanning the basement stairs with a professional’s calculating gaze. “We’ll scope it, strip it, and get the messy shit done. You two stay out from under our feet.”
By mid-afternoon, the loft bedroom and garage were a cacophony of saws and pounding hammers, the air thick with the smell of sawdust and old, liberated mortar. In the kitchen, Chris poured Kevin a fresh coffee. “Thank fuck we're starting properly tomorrow,” he said, sinking into a chair. “Just one day for you to get a feel for the job, see the sites, then we’ve got the weekend to relax and think it over.”
Kevin stirred his coffee, a sly grin playing on his lips. “So, what are the rules gonna be? At work, I mean.”
“Rules?”
“Yeah. Because I’m probably going to keep wanting to have sex with you,” Kevin said, laughing. “Might interrupt things.”
Chris didn’t laugh. He leaned forward, his expression serious. “That’s actually something we need to be smart about. I want you happy, baby, always. But the work… it need professional care. We have to take it seriously.”
“So, what’s the schedule, boss?” Kevin asked, his tone shifting to match Chris’s.
“Right. We fuck first thing, properly, before we even leave the house. That’s non-negotiable. Then there’s lunchtime. We find a site toilet, the van, wherever. And if we need it, an afternoon quickie. Will that keep the hunger at bay enough to stop us from causing a scene on a customer’s property?”
Kevin considered it, the new, settled part of him assessing the craving. “Yeah,” he nodded. “I think so. That should work.”
A week later, the house was a disaster zone. A fine layer of plaster dust coated every surface, and the constant soundtrack of power tools from opposite ends of the house had become the new normal. The progress was incredible, but the chaos was relentless.
After a long day spent rewiring a Victorian terrace amidst the smell of old brick and new cable, Chris and Kevin were in the shower together, washing away the dirt from their aching bodies. Kevin had already attended to Chris in a not-quite-comfortable silence.
"So," Chris asked Kevin, lathering his chest, "How has your first week been?" Chris felt that something wasn't clicking. And maybe just not for Kevin.
“I’m... I'm really sorry but... I'm just... I'm not enjoying it,” Kevin said quietly, staring at the tiled wall as Chris soaped his back. “The job.”
Chris let out a long, slow breath, a burden seeming to lift from his own shoulders at the admission. “Neither am I,” he confessed, crouching down to wash Kevin's legs. “Man, I used to love it. Just me, a problem to solve, switching everything else off. But now… I don’t want to switch off. I can’t. My head’s here, with you, with what we’re building together, in this house. Not with some fucking fuse box.”
They stepped out of the shower and started to dry each other. “That’s it exactly,” Kevin said, turning to him, his cute face etched with relief. “I keep thinking about the renovations here, about Scott’s place, about sex. I don’t care about conduit or trunking.”
Chris pulled out his phone. “I’m gonna call Dave. He’ll get it.”
Dave answered on the second ring, the sound of Billy laughing in the background. “Mate! How’s the grind?”
“It’s a grind, alright,” Chris said, getting up and pacing the small room. He laid it all out—the disconnect, the lack of passion for the work, how their minds were elsewhere now, consumed by the life they’d discovered. “It feels like we’re forcing a square peg into a round hole, Dave. We’ve changed. The job hasn’t.”
“Course I understand,” Dave replied, his voice easy. “Happened to me when I met Billy. You find your purpose, doesn’t always line up with your pay cheque.” There was a pause, the sound of a lighter flicking. “Have you given any more thought to what Darius said? About the basement?”
“The community space? It’s crossed my mind,” Chris admitted.
“Think on it seriously, brother. If you and the boy were to run an open house down there, a proper safe space, the community would support you. But it would be formal, you wouldn't be expected to be on call every moment of the day. There could be a rota of attendants who could cover so you and Kev could still have a private life. There’d be a stipend. A generous one. Enough to replace that engineering wage, I’d bet.”
Chris stopped pacing. “Wait, how big is this community, Dave? I thought it was just… you know, our lot.”
Dave’s laughter was a warm bark down the line. “Our lot? Christ, no. You’ve met about a quarter of the members just in our area. It’s huge, mate. Spread out, discreet, but huge. Imagine, if people are travelling through, or from the other side of the city, knew they had a safe place to come. Your place. It’s a needed thing.”
The scale of it stunned Chris. It wasn’t just a handful of couples; it was a network. A secret society. “Right. Wow. Okay. I need to talk to Kevin about this.”
“You do that. Talk soon, brother.”
Chris ended the call and looked at Kevin, who was watching him, rapt.
Kevin nodded, his eyes wide. “What... what was that about? It sounded like a solution to me..." he said hopefully.
"It might be, baby, it might be," Chris said, his mind spinning.
He sat on the edge of the bed, the towel around his waist loosening. “You remember what Darius and Dave were saying the other day? About the basement being a permanent space?”
Kevin nodded, moving to sit beside him, his body a warm presence. “Yeah. A place for… us.”
“More than just us,” Chris clarified, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial rumble. “A private, discreet place for other men and their boys to visit. A safe space. For relaxation, connection, exploration.” A slow, wicked grin spread across his face. “And a really fucking hot place to fuck. Scott’s place is great, but it’s only available when his wife is away, which is often, but it’s still limited. This… this could be ours. Always.”
“How would that work with your job? With my apprenticeship?” Kevin asked, the practical concerns surfacing through his curiosity.
“Dave said the community is much bigger than we’ve seen,” Chris explained, leaning closer. “There are dozens more couples, spread out. If we ran it, we’d get a monthly stipend. He said it would easily match my current salary.”
Kevin’s eyes widened, the possibilities igniting behind them. “Seriously? So we could just… work here? Together?”
“There’s a lot we don’t know yet,” Chris cautioned, but he could feel the same excitement building in his own chest. “But yeah. That’s the idea.”
“What about the two spare rooms?” Kevin asked, his thoughts racing ahead. “Once the loft and garage are done, we won’t need them. They’re big, with their own bathrooms. Could we renovate those, too? Make them nice, comfortable? A semi-permanent place for people to stay if they’re traveling from far away.”
Chris stared at him, a surge of profound affection and pride tightening his throat. He loved how quickly Kevin’s mind had grasped the concept and started building on it. “You’re a fucking natural at this,” he breathed, his voice thick. “That’s a brilliant idea.”
He reached out, cupping Kevin’s cheek. “This excites us, doesn’t it? In a way that rewiring old houses never could?”
“Fuck yeah,” Kevin responded, his voice dropping to a hungry whisper.
His eyes, suddenly dark with intent, locked with Chris’s. He lifted his hand, his fingers tracing a slow, deliberate path down the center of Chris’s muscled, hairy chest, through the coarse blond hair, down over the tight ridges of his abdomen. Chris’s cock twitched violently under the towel, a thick, heavy weight demanding attention.
Kevin hooked his fingers in the terrycloth. With a slow, deliberate pull, he let it fall away, pooling on the floor between Chris’s feet. He didn’t immediately dive onto it. Instead, he knelt, his gaze fixed on the erection standing thick and ruddy from a nest of coarse hair. He just looked for a long moment, taking in the sheer physicality of it—the prominent veins, the broad head already glistening with a bead of pre-cum.
He leaned in close, his nose almost touching the base, and inhaled deeply. “I love how you smell,” he murmured, the words a warm breath against Chris’s skin. He ran the back of his fingers along the length, from root to tip, feeling the hot, iron-hard flesh under the velvety skin. He licked his lips, then extended his tongue to deliver a long, flat, slow lick up the underside, from his heavy balls to the slit.
“Fuck, baby,” Chris groaned, his head falling back. “Take your time.”
Kevin obeyed, building a slow, worshipful rhythm. He took Chris’s balls in his hand, rolling the weight of them gently as he suckled on the head, his tongue swirling around the corona. He took him deeper, slowly, letting his throat relax, then pulled back to lavish attention on the shaft with wet, open-mouthed kisses. He teased the frenulum with the very tip of his tongue, eliciting a sharp, guttural sound from Chris. He worked him with a sensual, focused dedication, his own small cock dribbling steadily onto the floorboards.
“That’s it,” Chris urged, his voice strained. “Just like that. Worship my cock, you perfect slut.”
The filthy praise sent a shiver through Kevin. He increased his pace, bobbing his head, making wet, sloppy sounds as he deep-throated the thick length, his own transformed hole leaking in sympathetic response. This was a ritual, a claiming, and he was in no rush for it to end.
After several minutes of this slow, intimate torture, Chris’s patience shattered. “Okay, I need to be in that pussy now,” he growled, his hands gripping Kevin’s shoulders.
He guided Kevin up onto the bed, turning him onto his stomach. He positioned himself between Kevin’s spread legs, and then he leaned down, mirroring Kevin’s earlier devotion. He buried his face between Kevin’s ass cheeks, his tongue swiping through the slick, puffy lips of his hole. He lapped at it, suckling on the swollen flesh, burying his tongue deep inside to taste the unique, sweet cream.
“I’m going to fuck you senseless,” Chris promised, his voice a raw vibration against Kevin’s skin. “I’m going to make this perfect cunt drip all over my cock.”
He teased the opening with his tongue, then with the tip of his cock, rubbing the broad head through the wet slit, spreading Kevin’s own lubrication all over himself and the surrounding skin. He pushed in, just an inch, then pulled out, repeating the motion, stretching the sensitive lips around his girth.
“You like that, don’t you?” Chris grunted, sliding another inch inside the incredible, gripping heat. “You love this fat cock splitting you open, don’t you, you dirty boy?”
“Yes!” Kevin cried out, his voice muffled by the duvet. “I love your cock! Fuck me, please, Chris, just fuck me!”
Chris obliged, sheathing himself to the hilt in one final, deep thrust that punched the air from Kevin’s lungs. He set a relentless, pounding rhythm, his balls slapping against Kevin’s soaked flesh. The room filled with the raw, wet sounds of their coupling.
“This cunt is mine,” Chris grunted, driving into him, his rhythm brutal and perfect. “I can feel you getting wetter. Are you gonna cream on my dick?”
“Yes! I’m gonna—!” Kevin’s sentence dissolved into a wail as the first orgasm ripped through him, a gush of warm fluid slicking Chris’s thrusting length.
“Fuck, there it is,” Chris moaned, feeling the internal flood. “Again. I want to feel you cream all over my cock again.”
He adjusted his angle, hitting a spot that made Kevin see stars. The second climax was even more intense, a shuddering, continuous seep that made the glide even smoother, even filthier. The sight of his cock glistening with Kevin’s release pushed him over the edge.
“I’m filling you up,” Chris roared, slamming deep and holding, his body rigid as he pumped jet after hot jet of cum deep into Kevin’s clutching channel.
He collapsed forward, spent, his body covering Kevin’s. They lay in a tangled, sticky heap, their harsh breathing the only sound. After a long moment, Chris rolled off, pulling Kevin with him so they lay face to face on the rumpled sheets.
He brushed a damp curl from Kevin’s forehead. “Looks like we need another chat with the builders.”
“Looks like we need another chat with the builders.”
He didn’t mean right then, with the scent of their sex still thick in the air, but Kevin was already scrambling off the bed, his movements energized. "Why wait?" he said, pulling on his robe. "They're probably still cleaning up."
Chris followed, tying his own robe, the profound satisfaction in his muscles now mingling with a low thrum of anticipation. They found Scott and Jermaine collecting their things in the living room, their boys, Bashir and Juan, sitting quietly beside them on the sofa. The room was warm, the low light from the chandelier glinting off their eyes.
Chris took a breath, the idea feeling both ludicrous and inevitable as he voiced it aloud. "We're thinking of stopping the apprenticeship. The work... it's not for us."
He laid it all out, his voice steady but his knuckles white where he gripped his own knees. He told them about the conversation with Dave, about transforming the basement into a permanent safe house for the community. Then he added Kevin's idea about the spare rooms, framing it as a kind of specialized bed and breakfast for members traveling through. "It probably sounds like nonsense," he finished, a nervous crack in his voice. "A bit mad."
Surprisingly, it was Bashir who spoke first, his voice soft but clear, cutting through Chris’s doubt. "I think you'll both be perfect for it," he said. "You're both easy to get along with, you are safe and secure as a couple, you love each other's company and I think you could help the community in really significant ways."
Chris was taken aback. He was used to Bashir’s quiet naivete, but his quiet observation hinted at a sharp mind beneath his serene exterior.
"That basement has so much potential," Jermaine chimed in, his eyes alight. "With your electrical skills and our build-out, we could make something incredible. A real hub."
Juan nodded eagerly, leaning forward. "I would love to help out whenever you need. I love to be part of the community and I have a background in hospitality before I met Jermaine." He made a face. "And I'm not so fond of building work," and added, after a stern look from Jermaine, "but being away from his cock makes me sad." Everyone laughed.
Scott rubbed his stubble, thinking. "I have another job I can't move that should take a fortnight, but I could start on the basement right after. Jermaine?" Jermaine nodded in agreement. "We can start on the basement right after we are done with yours and our next jobs." He looked pointedly at Chris. "Especially if you can get all the electrics sorted for the gym and bathroom this weekend."
"We can do that," Chris said, feeling a solid commitment form in his chest. "I've heard from the lawyers and the buyout of the house should be done within the month. It will belong to Kevin and I equally."
At that, Kevin moved from his chair and settled onto Chris’s lap, wrapping his arms around his neck and kissing him firmly. The simple, public affection felt like a seal of approval.
"Let's call Dave," Chris said, pulling out his phone and initiating a FaceTime.
Dave’s grinning face appeared, Billy peeking over his shoulder. "Alright, lads?"
Chris summarized the plan again, the collective energy in the room bolstering his confidence. Dave’s smile widened. "It's a great idea. Scott, you should contact the central team and get it sorted. They will be over the moon that we have found something permanent."
"And my job?" Chris asked, the last practical thread of his old life.
"Not to worry, I will sort it," Dave said confidently. "You have three months of unused holiday pay, so you can take that as of now. By the time the conversion is done, the stipend should be in place."
Kevin jumped up from Chris’s lap with a loud whoop, his joy explosive and infectious. Chris was on his feet a second later, laughing, hugging his boy close. The other men joined in, clapping them on the back, the room filling with the sound of shared celebration before they finally began to leave for the day.
The celebration simmered down into the comfortable rustle of men gathering tools and pulling on jackets. Chris watched them, a new warmth spreading through his chest. "You guys have to rush off?" he asked, scanning their faces. "We could crack open a few beers. Properly celebrate this new... direction."
Jermaine exchanged a long, loaded look with Scott before turning back, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Actually, mate, we were meaning to ask a favour." He gestured with his chin towards Juan and Bashir, who were lingering by the door. "These two have been itching to hook up all day. Juan here's starting to want to top more, explore that side of things. We were wondering if they could borrow a space? And..." He paused, his eyes flicking to Kevin and then back to Chris. "Maybe Scott and I could share your boy with you? If that's not too presumptuous."
Chris glanced at Kevin. His boy’s eyes had already clouded over, the pupils swallowing the soft brown, his breath catching audibly. A low laugh rumbled in Chris’s chest. "Looks like the committee has already reached a decision."
Kevin was already moving, a magnetic force pulling Juan and Bashir towards the temporary bedroom. "C'mon," he said, his voice thick with anticipation.
In the room, Kevin went straight to a chest under the window and pulled out a large, grey blanket. He shook it out over their bed, the fabric landing with a soft, weighted thud. "We got frustrated with the laundry," he explained, a sheepish grin on his cute face. "Cum stains every night. And day. Sometimes multiple times a day."
The three of them laughed, a shared, understanding sound. "I did some research," Kevin continued, smoothing the blanket. "They're these large dog blankets. Rubberized on the back. So if you have an old dog, like the three of us do..." Another wave of laughter rolled through them. "It keeps the laundry less excessive. Mess on the blanket, clean in the sheets." He showed them the towel and lube on the nightstand before slipping out, a quiet certainty settling in him. He really would be good at hosting.
When he returned to the living room, Chris was gone. Before he could call out, Scott and Jermaine glided over to him, their presence immediate and enveloping. They didn't speak. Scott’s hands found his ears, his thumbs stroking the sensitive shells, while Jermaine’s mouth found his neck, his stubble a rough counterpoint to the soft, sucking kisses he planted there. Fingers tweaked his nipples through his t-shirt, pinching and rolling until they were sensitive and throbbing. A hand slid down his stomach, palming his growing erection before tracing a fiery path along his inner thighs.
Kevin let his head fall back, a shuddering sigh escaping his lips. He gave in to the sensation, his own hands moving constantly, desperately between them—gripping Jermaine’s solid bicep, then sliding to Scott’s denim-clad ass, pulling them closer, needing to feel all of them at once. His awareness was a narrow tunnel, focused only on their touch and the door, waiting for Chris.
When Chris returned, his eyes darkened at the sight. He moved into their midst without breaking stride, his hand cupping the back of Kevin’s head and pulling his mouth into a deep, reassuring, yet intensely sensual kiss. It was a claim staked in the middle of the frenzy.
Then the men began to undress him. Their hands, now more urgent, pulled his t-shirt over his head. Jermaine’s mouth latched onto a nipple, his tongue flicking it relentlessly while Scott and Chris worked his jeans and boxers down his legs. They lavished attention on his naked body, their clothes scraping against his sensitive skin. Kevin’s hands roamed over their clothed forms—groping the thick bulge in Jermaine’s trousers, squeezing Scott’s hard cock through his jeans, tangling in Chris’s long blonde hair.
Once he was fully naked, surrounded by their fully clothed forms, the energy shifted. It was no longer about undressing him, but about worshipping his exposed state. Chris leaned in, his lips brushing Kevin’s ear. "They told me to go clean my ass," he whispered, his voice a husky vibration. "They want to eat me out."
Kevin moaned loudly, the sound torn from deep in his gut, the image searing his mind.
Scott, now naked, his thick, heavy cock swaying, guided Kevin to his knees on the rug. "Suck my dick, boy," he grunted, feeding his length into Kevin’s willing mouth. Kevin took him deep, his throat relaxing, his eyes rolling back as he focused on the taste and weight. Behind him, Jermaine, also stripped bare, pressed his own substantial erection against Kevin’s puffy, wet slit. He pushed in with a single, smooth stroke, burying himself to the hilt in the slick, hot tightness. "Fuck, this cunt is perfect," Jermaine groaned, setting a deep, rhythmic pace.
Chris watched for a moment, his own hard cock in his hand, before Scott guided him down. "Your turn, big man. Let us taste you." Chris, his heart hammering, got on all fours, facing Kevin. Scott moved behind him, his tongue swiping a bold, flat stripe over Chris’s tight hole. Chris jerked, a shocked gasp escaping him. "Fuck!"
"Relax, mate," Jermaine said from behind Kevin, his thrusts never faltering. "Just let it happen. It'll be worth it, I promise."