261A/N Hi guys, it's been a while. I haven't been idle though. I wrote a novel for Goodreads M/M Loves Landscapes Event which will be published sometime in the summer. I thought I'd better get back to the stories on here though. Starting with Doug and Mason. I haven't forgotten them. I am determined to finish this. Hopefully with more frequent updates. Thanks for waiting, I hope this is worth the wait. The next chapter will be up soon.
DS
Mason
Dinner went well. Doug seems to be getting along with everyone just great. I keep nudging him and he keeps nudging me back with a half smile, half frown on his face like he's enjoying himself, but can't quite admit it to himself.
I'm so glad he's here, in fact everyone seems to be glad he's here. Amy and Jake have been all over him and Bailey seems to be developing a serious crush. Aunty Karen and Mom want to adopt him I swear and Dad, Uncle Gareth and Tyler are acting like they've known him for years. He just seems to fit in. I can't understand why he thought he wouldn't. Or maybe he's just never been given the chance to prove he can.
The only one in our family who doesn't appear to have taken a shine to Doug is my sister Deanna. Her behaviour is baffling to say the least. She spent the entire dinner shooting Doug filthy looks when she thought no one was watching and when I tried to include her in the conversation she gave me the same cold shoulder she gave me when I tried to talk to her down in the den.
What is her problem? Well, okay, I know what one of her problems is: she was caught out after curfew and has been grounded, but what is her problem with Doug? He had nothing to do with her grounding yet she seems to be focusing all of her anger on him. There's really no need for her to be like that.
Doug is busy with Dad in the wine cellar so I take the opportunity to seek Deanna out and have a "conversation" with her. I want to find out what is going on in that teenage brain of hers. She and I used to be really close. The last few times I've been home she just seems to have been a little distant.
She retreated to her room once she had finished her part of the clearing up. So, armed with perhaps the best hot chocolate I have ever made, I knock on the door of her room and wait. I don't have to wait for long as she answers, looking, not angry, or sullen, just drained, and teary eyed. She gives me a narrow eyed glare which does not hide the fact that her eyes are red rimmed like she's been crying
I feel a pang of sympathy because, despite the fact that she has brought this on herself, she must feel like everyone else is having fun and she's on the outside. I hold up the steaming mug and smile sympathetically,
"I brought you a peace offering." Deanna regards the mug, then regards me and then, to my utter surprise flings her arms around me and bursts into tears.
With my free arm I hug her to me, whispering soothing words and guiding her into her room. We sit on her bed and I place the mug on her night stand so I can continue to hug her with both arms,
"So, wanna tell me what's going on?" I ask.
She pulls away and wipes her eyes, brushing her long blond hair from her face and shaking her head,
"Did mom send you?" she sniffs and I shake my head,
"I came on my own, Dee, I wanted to talk to you but not about the other night, because I'm sure Mom and Dad gave you plenty of hell about it, you don't need me saying the same things." They would be the same things too, because I would simply be repeating what Mom and Dad probably said to me whenever I broke the rules and got caught,
"Masey, they were so horrible." She wails, "They made me feel so guilty. I really didn't want to stay out so late but I didn't exactly have any control over it, I tried to tell…." She stops and gives me a sideways look before biting her lip and looking away in embarrassment.
I rub between her shoulder blades soothingly,
"You know, Dee, if you were with a guy and he deliberately kept you out late then I would seriously think about dumping him because he does not seem like the kind of person who gives a damn about you. It's an enormous abuse of trust when they let you down like that."
Deanna nods,
"I know, mom said the same thing. I trusted him though, Masey. He promised me we would be back before curfew. I thought he was different. I thought he really liked me but…" she stops with a sob and I pull her into my arms again,
"Dee, he didn't hurt you did he?" I ask, feeling sick inside at the thought that someone might have taken advantage of her. She might act all grown up and adult, but she is still only sixteen and a kid.
She shakes her head and backs it up with a muffled, "No." I feel relief wash over me, "I'm not gonna tell you who it was either, so don't ask." She adds defensively,
"I didn't come in here to ask." I assure her, "Even if you told me I probably wouldn't even know him/her/it."
"Masey, you know some people in this family are actually straight." She snorts, although she does look kind of relieved that I'm not probing too deeply,
"I just didn't want to assume." I hold up my hands and raise my eyebrows. She snorts again then reaches for her hot chocolate. The air seems to be cleared somewhat so now I can get down to what I really came here for,
"So you've been grounded for life." I begin, "Are you angry with everybody in general or were you just planning on taking it out on me and Doug?"
Deanna glances sideways at me, looking sufficiently embarrassed.
"I'm not angry with you, Masey." She whispers, picking up her mug and taking a sip then groaning, "Oh my god, I have missed your hot chocolates." I grin at her admission and perhaps understand a little more about her animosity towards Doug,
"So you're angry with Doug because he's taking up time I could spend with you?" I ask her and she shrugs her shoulders, unable to look me in the eyes, "Because he really doesn't deserve that, Dee. He's been through hell over the last couple of days, and I really couldn't even think about leaving him alone this weekend. If he hadn't agreed to come here with me, I would have stayed with him." Deanna shoots me a surprised look and I nod, "So really you should be grateful that I'm here at all, and maybe you should cut him some slack. Give him a second chance."
Deanna scowls and looks away. When she turns back to me though she has a look of concern on her face and it throws me a little,
"Masey, how much do actually know about this guy?" now that throws me even more,
"What do you mean by that?" I'm flabbergasted that my sister is asking this at all, "I've only known him three weeks, Deanna, but I knew quite a bit about him before I asked him out, why?" she shrugs again,
"Just I heard some things about him that weren't very nice." I frown,
"What things, and from who?" have she and Bailey been talking? Did she make the same assumption Bailey did? "He's not the guy I've been having trouble with at work, Deanna, he's not my asshole boss. Is that what you're thinking?"
She shakes her head and turns away biting her lip as if she's unsure whether to continue. I'm curious though, what can she have heard about Doug, and from what possible source? I mean, she and Doug hardly move in the same social circles.
"I was at a party at Halloween." She tells me as she continues to sip her hot chocolate, "I heard someone mention this really nasty guy that works at your place, but I just didn't make the connection until Mom told me the name of your new boyfriend and I realised it was the same guy."
"Who told you Doug was nasty?" If I sound incredulous it's because I am.
Who could possibly have described Doug as nasty? He's a little bad tempered but he doesn't have a nasty bone in his body. He's determined and fierce sometimes; angry, definitely; defensive to the point of almost being a fortified island; but nasty? Never!
"Who was it that you met that knows Doug?" I am really curious about who she could possibly be talking about, "Was it someone we work with?"
Deanna shakes her head,
"It was just a conversation I overheard." She shrugs, although I get the feeling she isn't telling me everything. I don't know if it's because she doesn't want to reveal her source or if she's actually really embarrassed about believing hearsay and rumours, "Now I've met him though, I'm not even sure they were talking about the same guy. Maybe I got the name wrong…or something." She hangs her head looking confused and upset, "I'm sorry I reacted the way I did, Mason, I was just thinking about you."
I sigh and pull her into a hug. My sister might be a hormonal teenage girl but she still has the fierce protective streak we all have.
"What should I do about Doug, Masey?" Deanna asks me quietly, "I feel bad that I might have made him feel bad."
"You could try being a little nicer to him, although don't be surprised if he reacts a little defensive and stand offish." When Deanna gives me a curious look I shrug, "It's a long story, and let's just say he has a hard enough time accepting that anyone might even hint at liking him so you apologising for giving him dirty looks over dinner might just make him retreat into a corner and rock." Deanna gives me an incredulous look,
"The more I learn about him the more I think those people I overheard must have been lying, or talking about someone else." She hangs her head, "I'm so sorry I listened to them, Masey." She looks anxious, but also a little angry with herself,
"Hey, no worries sis." I hug her tight. I really want to know who she heard discussing Doug but I don't really want to upset the equilibrium. I release my hold and meet her gaze, "Why don't you come down into the den and meet Doug, and maybe get to know him a little better? He's really a nice guy."
"He's gonna hate me for being so awful to him." Deanna face palms with a groan and I chuckle,
"He won't hate you. He wants to get to know you. Come downstairs and hang with us. You're grounded but that doesn't stop you having fun in the house."
Deanna seems to give my invitation some thought. It's been a while since we all hung out together, and it gets harder and harder as we all get older, to find time to just be together,
"Okay, I'll come down to the den." She agrees brightly, then she frowns and bites her lip, "Mason, can I ask you a big favour?"
"What?" I purse my lips, she grimaces under my scrutiny,
"Mom took my phone."
"I know."
"Do you think you could ask her to give it back?" I suck in a breath and make a face,
"I don't know De, far be it from me to get involved when punishments are being dished out."
"Masey!" she flutters her eyelashes, "I was supposed to be at a party tonight and everyone will think I've abandoned them. Please!" She has the Heights' skill of persuasion, I'll say that much for her. I chuckle,
"Okay, I'll ask her, because parting a teen from her phone is like chopping off a limb." She does a little victory wiggle as I stand to go, "Meanwhile…" I might be pushing the limits here, but what are big brothers for if they can't do something to ease the sting of a punishment? I take out my phone and throw it down onto her bed, "Take my phone until you get yours back."
Deanna gapes at me like I've just given her all her Christmas presents at once,
"Wow, Mason, that's awesome, thanks." She jumps on me and hugs me to within an inch of my life then picks up my phone and frowns at it, "It's password protected." She points out and I grimace because I am going to have to tell her the password if she wants to use my phone,
"The password is scottydog, all one word, all lower case." She snorts as she types it in, since I'm sure she heard me call Doug that at least once or twice during dinner. Doug will have a cow if he finds out.
Oh shoot: Doug. He's still with Dad. He's gonna think I abandoned him. He was worried to begin with when Dad dragged him off to his wine cellar,
"I'm gonna go rescue Doug from Dad." Deanna grunts a reply since she is bent over my phone screen now. She's probably already loaded her Facebook and Twitter accounts onto it. It's already pinged with several messages before I'm even out of the door. Deanna has more friends than I do, "I'll see you down in the den." I call and she gives me a distracted wave.
I leave her to it with a chuckle. Mom is in the kitchen when I get there, making tea, which I decline, because I know there is a beer waiting for me downstairs. Tyler and Bailey "smuggled" them down there. Mom knows fine well they did, but it's more fun for her to let us think we got one over on her, and even if Tyler and I are over twenty one now we still love to sneak around under our parents' noses.
"Dad and Doug finished ages ago." Mom informs me, "I think they went down to the den to look for you and the others." She regards me over the top of her glasses,
"Oh, thanks." I sound distracted and Mom notices,
"Penny for them, sweetie." I grin at her,
"I was just talking to Dee." She makes an "o" shape with her mouth,
"And?"
"She's sorry for what she did."
"Did she tell you who she was with?" Mom looks very concerned, and I can understand why, Deanna put herself in a vulnerable position. I don't know how much of that Mom already knows though,
"She didn't tell me who it was, but I don't think you need to worry about it though, I don't think she's in a hurry to see this guy again."
Mom sighs and leans back against the bench looking somewhat relieved,
"You kids will be the death of me, you know that?" I chuckle as I move across the kitchen floor to hug her tightly,
"Some of us ain't kids any more, in case you hadn't noticed." I point out,
"Yeah? That doesn't stop your momma worrying about you, though."
"I know it doesn't, Mom, I'm sorry." I remember what I promised Deanna and push Mom to arm's length and grimace, "Mom, in light of what Deanna's said, and the fact that she seems to have learned her lesson, do you think she could get her phone back? I said I would ask."
Mom regards me with narrowed eyes,
"Mason, I took her phone and internet privileges away for a reason." She frowns,
"I know you did, but, come on Mom, she's missed a party tonight because she's grounded, I think, for a sixteen year old socialite like Dee, that is probably punishment enough, don't you think?"
Mom smiles and shakes her head,
"Oh, okay, she can have it back. I can't fight when you all gang up against me."
"We're not ganging up against you, Mom, so don't even go there. Deanna's punishment does seem a little more harsh than mine and Tyler's ever were though."
Mom sighs and nods,
"She's the youngest, Mason, and she's a girl. Things are different with her, she's a different personality to you three." I nod, still frowning, "She'd take a mile if you gave her an inch, she really would." I smile, because Deanna has always been like that, "She's just as adventurous as you and Tyler were, but that just makes it more difficult keep her safe."
"She' just as confident and capable as us, though Mom. She can look after herself. Reading between the lines I think this guy who got her home late, might have regretted his actions just as much as she regrets hers."
Mom chuckles and nods. She reaches into her pocket and takes out a glittery, pink phone and regards it before she hands it to me,
"You know, I'd have always thought that you would be the one to have such a bling phone." She muses, a wicked twinkle in her eye. I roll my eyes as I take the phone from her,
"Why does everyone assume that everything I own will be pink?" I ask to the heavens, "I don't own anything pink."
"You'd better get down to the den." She chuckles, "Dad took Doug down there and hasn't come back, and by the looks of it, when they came out of that darn cellar, they'd been drinking the wine, not just tasting it."
"Oh, hell!" I exclaim.
Doug was worried about making an ass of himself but now I'm more worried about my family making asses of themselves in front of him. There is nothing worse than trying to make a good impression when everyone around you is stone drunk.
Mom calls a warning as I disappear through the door to the stairs,
"Absolutely no one is allowed to have a hangover tomorrow. If they do, then they get the turkey pan to wash out."
"Shit!" I exclaim under my breath. That is a fate worse than death, especially when I think about how big the damn turkey is.
I reach the Den just as Deanna does. I took the liberty of texting her so she knows I have her phone. I'm glad she decided to come. We exchange phones and knowing smirks and I pocket my phone as we push through the door together,
"Thanks Masey!" she whispers, full of gratitude, giving my arm a squeeze,
"I think you might have some almighty bridges to build with Mom and Dad." She grimaces,
"I know."
Dad and Doug have indeed reached the Den before us. Dad spies Deanna and I and throws his arms open wide. He's smiling broadly, the way he does when he's had just a little too much to drink. Mom is gonna go crazy when she sees him.
"Here's the prodigal son and daughter." Dad calls out in his best 'I'm pretending not to be drunk' tone. Oh jees, he's already slurring his words, what the hell Doug thinks of him I can only imagine.
Before I can turn to Doug, Dad pulls both me and Deanna into a bear hug of monumental proportions. Deanna manages to wriggle free with a high pitched, embarrassed giggle, although I don't miss the significant look that passes between her and Dad before she finds sanctuary on the sofa with Nina.
Dad eventually releases me and I am immediately grabbed from behind and turn to face what I can only describe as a Doug replicant. He is grinning from ear to ear. He looks completely transformed from the tense, anxious, shy Doug that attended dinner this evening. Who is he and what has he done with my Dougie?
"Well, now, where the hell did you get to?" He asks, his tone is at least the normal snippy with slightly annoyed undertones that I have come to expect, even if the rest of his demeanour is completely different,
"Hey!" I wrap my arms around his shoulders with a smile. Since he's initiating a public display of affection I will not look a gift horse in the mouth, "Did you and Dad have a good time?"
Doug leans in close, beckoning me to do the same. There's not much closer that I can get but I do as he asks with a soft, amused chuckle. He stretches up on his tip toes and whispers in my ear,
"Your Dad is fucking awesome." I snort at his admission, and the overwhelmingly sweet smell of wine on his breath, "In fact," he continues in a slightly louder voice, "your entire family is fucking awesome." He turns to look at Deanna, who is regarding him with the same amused expression I think I am wearing, albeit a little more warily, "Even, you." Doug nods, and the action causes him to lose his balance.
He grabs my arms and gives me a startled look as I exchange startled looks with my sister. She leans back over her phone with a snort of suppressed laughter as I steady Doug who appears to have lost all coordination in his legs.
Scotty Dog is drunk as a skunk.
I turn to my Dad, who appears to be just as drunk. How much wine did they drink down in that damn cellar?
"Oh my god, Dad, you got him drunk?" I think my voice cracked, it went up so high,
"Pffft" Dad snorts, waving his hands in dismissal of the very idea, "We're not drunk." He steadies himself by placing a hand on Doug's shoulder. Doug regards him with an extremely childish grin, as if they are in cahoots and getting told off by a parent except one of them is my parent and they're both older than me! You'd think, between the two of them, there'd a be a degree more responsibility,
"Dad, you're supposed to taste the wine, not drink it." Even I know that,
"We just couldn't waste it. The wine was far too good to spit out." Dad explains, "Isn't that right, Doug?"
"Yep." Doug nods in agreement, and I steady him again, because apparently, when you're drunk you can't nod and stand upright at the same time, "Far too good to spit out. I always swallow."
I gasp at his double meaning but Dad collapses in fits of laughter, slapping Doug on the shoulder appreciatively,
"British sense of humour." He manages to blurt out between gasps of laughter, "I just love it."
I think I could quite easily fry an egg on my face right now I'm blushing that much. Doug and my Dad have found something else in common: a filthy sense of humour. Heaven help us all. I roll my eyes.
"Well, Doug, can't stay here exchanging filth with you all night, much as I'd like to." Dad pats my boyfriend on the shoulder. Doug gives him a very wide and friendly smile, "I have to get back up to the missus and pretend I'm not wasted."
"Aye, good luck with that, Wilson." Doug replies and they're both reduced to fits of laughter again.
I glance helplessly around the den to look for any kind of sympathy, since I seem to be caught in the middle of some kind of bromance between my boyfriend and my Dad. Not that I would ever begrudge it, but come on, it's embarrassing, my Dad is embarrassing and Doug is acting so out of character it's almost surreal. Tyler and Bailey are playing pool at the other end of the room and they both give me a jaunty wink then turn back to their game with a snort.
They're no help. They probably contributed to the drunkenness by offering beer to top up the wine that's already been consumed. I know it's a holiday weekend, but come on.
Dad leaves with a cheery, "Good night, see y'all in the morning." And I turn back to Doug, who is now hanging on my arm for support. He looks up at me, except he doesn't just move his eyes, he moves his entire head, like his eyes are fixed in position. I fight the urge to laugh since his expression is so comical,
"Hi!" he says, with a wide, relaxed smile, "Want a beer?" I frown,
"Exactly how much have you had to drink?" I ask him. He frowns and purses his lips,
"Aw, don't be like that, darlin'." He placates me, running his fingers down my chest in a way that sends shivers down my spine, and did he just call me darling? God, Doug, stop being so damn adorable.
I push him away, but not angrily, just irritably because he's had a head start on me, and I wanted a beer as well, but I decided to go talk to Deanna first. I guess that's what's really bugging me. Not the fact that he's drunk, just that he's drunk without me,
"Have a beer, Masey, and join the party." Tyler calls over.
He and Bailey hold up their bottles in salute and I groan. Now that I get a better look I can see they are just as wasted as Doug is,
"How much have you both had to drink?" I ask incredulously. They haven't been down here that long. They both shrug and Doug giggles by my side. Jesus! "Is there anyone here who isn't completely wasted?"
"I'm not." Nina pipes up from the sofa. She looks decidedly and uncharacteristically sober since sometimes she can be as bad as Tyler,
"Me either, yet!" Deanna adds. I scowl at her,
"Don't you even go there, young lady." Deanna scowls, then pouts, then grins as Nina nudges her and they go back to what they were doing: comparing apps on their phones I think. Nina shoots me a quick look and I see that she has my sister under her wing. Nina can be more of a mother hen than me sometimes.
So Nina and Deanna are okay. No chance of hangovers for them tomorrow which is more than I can say for the rest. Doug has now meandered over to the pool table and the beer supply,
"Mom says if anyone has a hangover tomorrow…" I announce to the room in general, as I move to join my boyfriend and brothers, "…they get the turkey pan to wash out."
Tyler, Bailey, Deanna and Nina all mutter curses beneath their breath. They know what that entails,
"That doesnae seem like that bad a punishment." Doug muses as I reach him and he hands me an opened bottle of beer.
I thank him and chuckle at his words. I forgot my quirky, gorgeous, sexy boyfriend actually likes washing dishes,
"We have a twenty four pound turkey, Doug. That's one hell of a pan." I inform him as I tap the neck of my bottle against his and take my first swig of beer. He shrugs, although he looks slightly shocked,
"Jesus, I didnae even know you could get turkeys that size. You could probably cook me in the pan you'd need for a bird that big."
I wrap my arms around him as I chuckle,
"You're not that small." I nuzzle his neck but he pushes me away with an anxious frown,
"Are you pissed off that I'm a bit, well, tipsy?" he asks me, looking genuinely concerned.
I sigh inwardly. He looks like he's having a good time, but he is still anxious and wary inside. I should have known, and toned down my disapproval of everyone's state of inebriation, since I do actually intend to join them.
I pull Doug back into a hug, a tight hug that has him gasping and laughing,
"Dougie, I'm not pissed off at all." I whisper softly into his golden hair, "I am so glad you are having such an amazing time."
"Aye?" Doug pulls away to meet my gaze, "I am having a good time. I'm glad I came. You're Dad, god, he's just…" he sighs but he looks kind of excited, "He asked if I want to go out to some of the vineyards sometime and do some proper wine tasting."
"And?" I ask, caught up in his excitement,
"I said I'd love to." He says, "If that's alright wi' you that is."
"Why wouldn't it be?" I smile at the fact he thinks he needs my permission to spend time with my Dad, "Why wouldn't I be completely fine with how well you are getting on with my Dad, with everyone in fact?"
He shrugs, "I've never done this kind of thing before, Mason. I don't want to mess it up or anything."
I pull him back into my arms and smooth down his gorgeous hair,
"You aren't messing anything up." I whisper, "You're doing just great, Scotty Dog."
Doug clicks his tongue in response to the nickname, and regards me with narrowed eyes,
"And things were goin' so well!" he huffs. I giggle at his disgusted expression. I know he isn't being serious, I can see the amused twinkle in his eyes.
"Hey, you two," Tyler calls over from the pool table, "When you've both finished groping each other how about joining us and getting whopped in a game of doubles?"
We both turn to see the spark of challenge in both Tyler and Bailey's eyes.
"I don't know about you, Mason…" Doug says, his eyes lit up like burning emeralds as he leans back against me in a way that just makes me feel like I want to sweep him up and carry him off, "That sounds like a challenge we can't refuse."
I think I like the slightly drunk, slightly merry, and much more relaxed and confident Doug. I think I like him very much.
The rest of the evening passes in pleasant company, witty banter and plenty more beer. Nina and Deanna join us and become our unofficial cheerleaders, although I think they are mostly cheering for Doug. I think Doug has a regular fan club going on and he has no idea how to handle it. I love the way his ears turn pink every time they cheer his name.
Doug and I beat Tyler and Bailey three games to one, although I think that was mostly Doug's skill not mine. Is there anything this man can't do? He says it is just a case of mathematical calculation when setting up shots, but there has to be a degree of skill there too. He could be a pool hustler, because he doesn't look the part, but damn he can play.
"Where did you learn to play like that anyway?" Bailey asks him as we relax on the sofas with Bailey and Tyler after Nina and Deanna have gone off to bed.
Doug shrugs,
"I mostly played when I was a kid." He replies, "I haven't played for a wee while, but I got plenty of practice since whatever children's home I was dumped in at the time always had a pool table, I guess it's a state requirement."
"Children's home?" Bailey sits up and looks at Doug with interest, "You lived in children's homes? What happened to your parents?"
"Bailey!" I hiss, but Doug holds up his hand to stay my warning,
"That's okay," he says, "I had parents, Bailey, but they couldnae look after me, they were drug addicts and I was taken into care when I was five."
"Jesus!" Bailey gasps, sitting back in his seat and nursing his bottle of beer, "That's just…wow, that's harsh, Doug."
I'm interested now that he's talking about it, even though I suspect it's a difficult subject to broach with him. He's probably more likely to open up about it now that he is drunk. I'm not so drunk,
"You were fostered though." I point out, "You told me." Doug regards me with a frown as he weighs up the merits of telling his life story in front of my brothers,
"Aye, I was fostered, several times. The one that lasted longest was with a woman called Sheila. She was my old head teacher from primary school. She took me in when I was nine and saw me through the rest of school and University. I wouldnae have gone if it hadn't been for her. I wouldnae be here."
"God bless Sheila." Bailey holds up his beer in salute. Doug chuckles,
"Do you keep in touch with her?" I ask him, remembering the framed photo of Doug at graduation with a very proud looking older woman by his side. I wonder what it was that made him break ties with her and come all the way over here on his own,
"She died, Mason." Doug whispers. I feel my heart fall down a thousand foot chasm. Oh my god, it must have been as if the bottom had fallen out of his world. I can see by his expression that we've reached the limits of how much he wants to share, "It happened just before I came out here. She'd been sick a while, but she knew I had this job. She told me to go for it. And once she was gone…" he shrugs again, "I didnae have anything else to tie me to home." He picks at a thread on the cushion he's pulled into his lap as he was speaking. He doesn't look up but I can feel the tension in his entire body as it leans against mine, and I can see the moisture in his eyes,
"Jesus, Doug, I didn't mean to upset you, I'm sorry." Bailey apologises, and Doug shrugs once more, shaking himself out of his sudden depression,
"Ah, yer alrigh', Bailey. It's water under the bridge, matey, water under the bridge."
"Anyone want another beer?" Tyler asks to change the subject. I can see Doug's story has affected him too. It's certainly affected me, since I have a lump the size of a planet in my throat. I can't answer my brother, but I exchange a look with him that probably says more than words anyway.
Tyler nods and gives me a smile. Sometimes it's really quite handy to have a twin brother who can read your mind.
Doug declines the offer of another beer, "No, thanks, I think I might have had enough." He leans his head heavily against my shoulder.
"Me too." Bailey adds, leaning his head back against the cushions of the sofa with a groan.
"Right, I'm off tae have a slash." Doug announces suddenly, as he sits up and wavers before attempting to stand and falling back, almost into my lap.
"A what?" Bailey snorts beside him, "What'd you just say?" Bailey's tone is full of mirth and even delight. Even I am chuckling as I push him to standing. I have no idea what he means by "slash".
"Where are you going Dougie?" I ask with a giggle. He turns to us all with his hands on his hips,
"I'm aff tae the cludgie, the khazi, the bath - room." Doug informs us, pronouncing the last word in clipped, if very slurred English. It's as if he's giving us a lesson in another language, he may as well be speaking one. Bailey, Tyler and I just sit and snigger, "I'm goin tae have a slash, a jimmy riddle, a piss." He nods and turns.
I steady him on his feet as he wavers, throwing me a look that I think is supposed to be withering but only succeeds in making me snort with laughter all the more,
"Stop yer fuckin' chortling an' show me where the fuckin' bathroom is, Mason." He says, "There's so many fucking rooms in this place it's obscene." He mutters, "How the fuck am I supposed to remember where the fuckin' toilet is?"
I can see Tyler out of the corner of my eye. He raises an eyebrow at Doug's choice vocabulary. I have to admit I haven't heard Doug swear quite so much since we first met, although I guess he's drunk and it seems to be bringing out the Glaswegian in my fiery boyfriend.
I stand and place a hand in the small of Doug's back to steady him,
"Mason, what the fuck?" he slurs and looks at me with unfocused eyes, "I dinnae need you to hold ma fuckin' hand, just tell me where tae go." I roll my eyes as Tyler and Bailey chuckle,
"Down the hall, third door on your left." I spin Doug around and give him a small push towards the door.
My brothers can just stop laughing though. They're just as wasted, and Tyler swears worse than a trucker sometimes. I'll have words when Doug's left the room; except Doug hasn't left the room yet because he just walked into the door frame. Oh good lord,
"Fuckin' ouch!" he grimaces as he holds his forehead in confusion, "Tha' fuckin' hurt."
"Doug, be careful there, man," Bailey calls, "Those door frames can be pretty lethal."
"Yeah, I've had my fair share of run ins with door frames in this house, welcome to the family, Dougie." Tyler chuckles. Both my brothers snigger and lift their beer bottles, clashing the necks together in a drunken toast.
Doug whirls around and points a drunken finger at both of them,
"Don't ye fuckin' Dougie me." He says to both Bailey and Tyler, "On'y Mason's allowed tae call me tha'." He wobbles and falls against the door frame again as my brothers both laugh in surprise.
I can't help grinning broadly as I walk up to Doug and steady him again,
"Come on, Scotty Dog." I say, gently, "Let's get you to the bathroom before you bump into something else and do some damage." He tries to shake my hold on him, scowling,
"Mason, I don't need yer fuckin' help."
"No," I say, sarcastically, "That's why you just tried to walk through a door frame." We reach the bathroom door and I push it open and gently guide him through. He stops me,
"Mason, I don't need you to come in with me." He says, snippily and I stop in the doorway smirking,
"Are you sure you don't need me to hold you steady in case you miss the bowl?" I flick my eyebrows at him,
"No, ye fucking pervert," he smirks, "now get the fuck out and let me pee in bloody peace." I chuckle as he shoves me away and I wait outside the door, leaning back against the wall,
"Hey Mason, no funny business out there man?" Tyler calls from the Den and I hear Bailey join him in raucous laughter. I roll my eyes, but can't help laughing.
Everything about today has been perfect. From waking up this morning in Doug's arms to seeing my Scottish wildcat get on so well with my mom and dad and now my brothers. It's been a great day so far. It's only going to get better because I get to share a bed with Doug, even though we're not doing anything else but sleeping. It does mean I get to wake up next to him again.
There's a thud from the bathroom and I knock at the door,
"Doug?" I call in alarm, "Dougie are you okay?"
"Mason, I think I might need that help now." He calls in a small voice and I open the door, which he hadn't actually locked any way.
He's sitting in the middle of the floor, his knees pulled up to his chin, his face looking really very pale. My heart goes out to him because he really didn't stand a chance with my Dad and two brothers on the charm offensive and determined to welcome him into the family "Heights" style,
"Aw, Scotty Dog, come here." I lift him up, "Let's get you to bed, huh." He wavers as he stands and then falls into my arms. His own arms come up around my neck and he pulls me into a tight embrace. His hands pull me down and he presses his lips to mine in a soft, tender, but very passionate kiss,
"Bed sounds like a very good idea to me, Mason," He murmurs against my lips, "Take me to bed you sexy, horny devil." I laugh in surprise and hold him away from me,
"Now Doug, you're drunk, I'm not going to take advantage of you like this, you know that."
"I'm drunk, Mason, but I'm not stupid," he snaps, "And I know when I'm onto a good thing." He leans in for another kiss, "And you, my tall, blond bombshell, are a very good thing." His tone is seductive, his lips are soft and his body is warm and firm against mine. I can't help moaning as he kisses me the way I have dreamed he would kiss me, with total abandon, ready to surrender himself to the passion and to me.
Oh God, give me strength. I can't do this, he's drunk. I promised him. If we do this he will hate me I know and I can't spoil it: I won't spoil it, because as much as I want it, and right now I really want it, I don't want to mess this up. What I feel for him is special. This would be a betrayal of his trust: the trust he put in me when we discussed sharing the bed without any "hank bloody panky" as he so eloquently put it,
"Dougie, come on, I'm putting you to bed, but nothing else okay, because you're drunk and not yourself." I push him away and turn to attempt to guide him out of the door. If I have to I will share with Bailey. I won't let things get out of hand.
With a move that is so sudden I cry out in surprise, Doug pulls me back into the room and pushes the door shut, shoving me up against it with a strength that is incongruous to his height. He's slim, and only comes up to my shoulder but he's wiry and strong.
He presses against me and I can feel my body reacting to his forcefulness, it is such a turn on. Why is he making this so difficult?
"Doug, come on, don't do this, you'll hate yourself and me in the morning and I couldn't live with myself if you did." I turn my head to stop him from kissing me again. I know my resolve won't last much longer because I do want him, he is sexy, and gorgeous but he's also drunk and not in control. I have to take control,
"What's the matter, Mason?" he growls angrily, "Am I not good enough for ye, eh?"
"No, Doug, it's not that it's just…"
"Just what?" he presses up against me harder and I swallow, feeling the blood pumping through my veins straight to my groin. His hands fumble at my belt and I feel my breath hitch as his fingers brush against my sensitive, semi hard cock through the fabric of my jeans. At the same time his mouth fastens onto my neck and he sucks gently, erotically, his tongue flicking at my skin,
"Oh God." I breath,
"Not god, just me." He whispers, "Take me to bed Mason, make love to me. I want you inside me." My insides just turned to jello and the temperature just shot up to fever pitch. I want this so much but I know I can't have it; not when he's in such a state,
"Doug, stop please, don't do this." I finally manage to push him away because gosh he's strong and insistent and tenacious, and damn gorgeous. Those moss green eyes glare at me angrily and then he does something I could never have predicted: he slaps me,
"Ouch." I yelp, holding my cheek, because, although it wasn't that hard, it still stung, "What the hell was that for?" I regard him with wide eyes,
"For making me think I was something special, ye bastard, then turning me down like some cheap fucking date when I hand it to ye on a fucking plate." He is pissed now and I mean really pissed. He's scary in fact,
"Doug, I'm not turning you down, but you're drunk, and we talked about this remember?" He stands and shakes his head, his hands on his hips,
"Ye are just a bundle o' confused messages, ye know that, Mason fucking Heights? What the fuck am I supposed tae think?" he steps closer, poking his finger in my face, right beneath my nose, "You piss me off, ye really do. Ye fuckin' kiss me every opportunity ye get. Ye can't keep yer fuckin' hands off me mos' o' the time: touchin' me, wrapping yer arms around me, huggin' me, strokin' ma fuckin' hair, holdin' ma hand. Ye tell me I'm beautiful, when it isn't even fuckin' true because I'm a fuckin' minger, but when I actually gie ye what ye want ye turn it doon."
He's gone really Scottish on me now and my brain is working over time to translate that all into English that I actually understand but I guess I got the gist of it. He's angry, but I am not going to change my mind here, no matter how tempting this is. I can be pretty strong willed and he is not going to break my resolve. He moves to kiss me again and I stop him, all his man handling of me has allowed me to gauge just how much force I need to use to hold him off, and it's a lot I can tell you,
"Doug," I say, no in fact I shout it, because now I'm really annoyed with him, "We are not going to do this. You didn't want this when you were sober and I am not going to take advantage when you're drunk, please. You have to stop."
He does. He stops pushing against me and steps away. He takes a few steps around me and pulls the bathroom door open angrily,
"Fine." He spits, "That's jus' fine, don't take me up on the fuckin' offer. Just don't ever expect it to be offered again, ye fuckin' bastard. Sleep on the bloody couch for all I fuckin' care." He starts to walk away but I catch his arm, because that made me really angry. I am trying to respect him, why can't he see that? He looks down at my hand on his arm and then up at me, his eyes flashing, but any retort he might have had dies on his lips, I actually see it die as his eyes widen. Through his drunken haze he can see how angry I now am,
"Don't play games with me Doug," I say softly, but my tone is sizzling, "I don't like those kinds of games. I only ever told you the truth about the way I feel, and after all the trouble you had even accepting that you could trust me, don't you dare try to make me break that trust."
He looks up at me and for a moment I see remorse flash in those fiery green eyes of his, and then just as quickly the fury reappears,
"Fine." He spits, "I'm off tae bed. You do what the fuck you want."
He storms off, his gait a little unsteady but not as wobbly as he was before we started arguing.
Jesus, I don't even know where that argument came from. It came out of nowhere. He tried to jump me in the bathroom. Whilst, at any other time that might have been hot, I know I was right to stop him. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if we'd woken up tomorrow and he'd regretted what he'd done.
"What the hell was that all about?" Tyler startles me and I turn to see he is supporting Bailey as he stumbles to the bathroom.
Bailey gives me an apologetic, embarrassed grimace before disappearing into the bathroom. I hear him being very noisily sick and groan.
"Bro?" Tyler leans against the wall beside me, "Everything okay?"
I sigh and shake my head, pinching the bridge of my nose,
"No, not really, Tyler, but I'm going to make things okay right now." Tyler pats me on the shoulder sympathetically,
"He needs careful handling that one I think." He observes and I nod as I push myself away from the wall with another sigh,
"Tyles!" Bailey moans from the bathroom and Tyler and I exchange amused, indulgent glances,
"Well, I think I'll sort out Bailey the vomit comet then head off to bed." My brother pushes the bathroom door open. I smile,
"Yeah, see you in the morning, Tyler." He gives me a flick of his eyebrows, his expression tells me everything he can't put into words: Things'll work out okay.
I follow Doug down the hall only to find him sitting at the bottom of the first flight of stairs,
"Dougie?" I ask in concern since he's holding his head in his hands.
"I couldnae remember where the fuckin' bedroom was." He moans, then looks up at me with a look of utter despair, "I messed it all up, didn't I?" he asks me, "Everything was going so well. I should've known it wouldn't last."
With a sigh I sit down beside him and pull him into a hug,
"You didn't mess anything up." I assure him although he gives a derisive snort in response,
"I slapped you across the face." He whispers, "I'm so fucking sorry, Mason. I'll understand if you don't want to share a bed wi' me, or anything after that."
"It was just a slap, Doug, no biggie really. It didn't even hurt." I touch my cheek where he hit me, it doesn't hurt. It wasn't a punch, and it wasn't done out of malice, it was a spur of the moment reaction,
"Still no excuse." Doug sounds completely distraught about it though and I don't really know why, "I spent the first five years of my life watchin' my dad slap my mum around. I've spent the next twenty three years promisin' I would never do anything like that to anyone, but give me a few too many beers and I turn into my dad."
The information he has just given me shocks me to the core. He thinks a slap is the same as domestic abuse. He hasn't even hurt me,
"So promise never to do it again." I suggest, "Then we can move on and forget it ever happened."
He regards me with sad eyes,
"That's what they all say, though." He tells me, "They always say sorry, promise it will never happen again. Until the next time."
"So what do you want me to say, here, Doug, because I think you're blowing it out of all proportions? You slapped me, so what. I won't hold it against you. Just don't slap me again."
"I won't." his words are significant and his tone determined, "I promise."
I pull him to me with a sigh,
"Okay, I accept your apology and I'll hold you to that promise." He buries his face into my shoulder with a grateful moan, "Besides, if we'd really been fighting, I would have kicked your ass."
Doug lifts his head in shock. My comment was meant to lighten the mood but he still looks distraught,
"Don't even joke about that." He tells me, "Don't even think about jokin' about it."
The obvious differences in our backgrounds just become more evident as I get to know this man better. He has witnessed domestic abuse, something I've only ever heard about third hand. He's taking this very seriously whilst I just want to move on and forget it.
"I'm sorry." I might not understand how he feels but I can respect his feelings. He nods,
"So am I."
"Great, so can we go to bed now?"
"You still want to share with me?" Doug looks absolutely flabbergasted. I grab his shoulders as we stand,
"Of course I do, oh my god, Doug, I've been looking forward to it."
"Nae funny business though." Is he asking me, or is he telling me.
I make a cross shape with my hand across my chest, "Cross my heart."
"I'm sorry about before. I think I might have had too much to drink."
I chuckle, as I guide Doug up the stairs and along the hall to my room,
"I think too much might be an understatement, Scotty Dog."
He clicks his tongue, but smirks at me as we reach my bedroom door. Everything seems to be getting back on track.
So far winning this guy over has been one big rollercoaster of emotion. I know one thing for sure though: life is never going to be dull with Douglas McKenzie.