A/N I know I said the next chapter would be Doug again but Mason insisted it was his turn. Enjoy,



Drop All Your Petals on Me

Waking up with my naked body draped across Douglas McKenzie's has got to be the most amazing sensation ever.

My head is tucked into his shoulder. I must be at least four inches taller than him but I'm snuggled up to him like a baby, and I guess this is how it should be. I'm five years younger than him. It's not that big an age gap, but it feels right that he's holding me like this.

I've felt so protective of him over the last few weeks but right now our roles seem to be reversed. Cradled in his arms like this, with him holding me so tenderly, I have to admit it feels incredible.

I have no idea how long we've slept. We woke early, I know that. I glanced at the clock just before, well, "it" happened. It was only four in the morning. I lift my head slightly to see the time. I lie back down with a soft grunt,

"Three hours." I mumble.

"What's tha'?" Doug croaks sleepily, lifting his head a little off the pillow,

"We've been asleep three hours, it's only seven a.m."

"Urgh!" he drops his head back onto the pillow and his body relaxes as he shuffles and pulls me back into the position I was in.

"How's your hangover?" I don't have one, but he must be suffering.

"Fine." He replies, clearing his throat because his voice has gone croaky, "Gone I think."

He recovers quick! I bet Bailey isn't so lucky.

We are naked, and with one leg and one arm draped across him I can feel every inch of Doug's body in contact with mine. He moans and shuffles a little to get comfortable. I tense, ready for him to push me away when he realises how we are lying.

I don't even remember when we actually got naked. Everything happened so fast, but oh my god, it happened. I had sex with Doug, hand sex, but it was sex. My cock twitches at the memory. My entire body is wired through with electricity. He does that to me. Douglas McKenzie turns me on, and he doesn't even know he's doing it.

He doesn't push me away and a slight shuffle tells me he is just as aroused as I am.

He gasps, "How the hell am I supposed to sleep with that bloody ramrod pressed against me eh?"

I chuckle. His words don't reflect his actions though, as he gently runs his fingers up and down my arm. Every nerve in my body comes alive and tingles with pleasure and need for this man. What is it about him that I find so amazing?

"I've got tae go." Doug shuffles out from beneath me, his tone a little sheepish.

What does he mean he has to go? Where? Oh my god, did we move too fast? I know he said he wanted to wait, that he needed time, but then he retracted all of that. Is he having second thoughts? Please don't let it be that.

"Mason, I have tae go tae the bathroom, man." He shuffles the rest of the way off the bed and strides across the room to the bathroom, "I can hear ye thinkin', Mason, it's a wonder there's no steam comin' out your ears, and ye c'n stop ogglin' my arse as well, ye bloody pervert."

He disappears into the bathroom to the sound of my surprised laughter. He is still the same grumpy, prickly Doug but he's different somehow. I can't believe the change is just because of what we did. It has to be a combination of everything else that's going on here. Like the fact that my entire family seem to think he's the best thing since sliced bread. I have a feeling he hasn't experienced that kind of acceptance before.

I listen to the noises he's making in the bathroom. Is he humming? A Christmas tune? My god, what is happening here? It sounds amazing though, I want to laugh. His unconscious happiness makes me tingle all over. Let's not get into what his voice does to me. Oh my God that accent!

Doug tells me he's short, bad tempered, with too many freckles and red hair. I say he's the sweetest, sexiest man alive, and I think he might just be mine. For how long I have no idea, but right now, as he slips back under the covers with a shiver and his hands pull me back into the position we were in, and his fingers make my skin tingle and my muscles tremble, he's mine and I'm his.

I would like it to be for a long, long time, but maybe that is a conversation we need to have some time in the future. We're still getting to know each other. There are things I would like to know about him. Not to influence my plans in anyway, but to understand him better. I mean, why does he feel that he isn't worth any effort?

Maybe if I knew what he and mom talked about that upset him so much I would get a better idea.

"Doug?" I ask, a little hesitantly, wondering if this is the right time to ask when we're lying naked together and semi aroused,


Oh dear, he's not going to like me asking but when I found him in the sun room all upset yesterday, just after we arrived, he said he'd tell me later.

"Is it later, now?" How damn lame does that sound? I can almost hear him frowning. I have a degree in Business studies, but next to him I am an illiterate child. He's so damn clever. He knocked the socks off Bailey and Uncle Gareth at dinner last night, talking computer programming, that completely went over the top of my head and I thought I knew a lot.

Then he completely blew dad away with his wine knowledge.

"Mason, have you gone back tae sleep?" Doug nudges me, "I thought you wanted to ask me a question. What happened, did your brain put me on hold or something?"

I smirk. Let me add very funny to that list of attributes. He's sarcastic as hell, and he always makes me laugh.

"I just wanted to know if you were ready to tell me what you and mom talked about that upset you yesterday." He takes a sharp breath and I lift my head to look at him, "No pressure though. I'm just being nosey really, if you don't want to tell…"

"No, that's fine, I'll tell you." His expression turns sad, his lovely green eyes cloud over, and I know he'd been smiling just before I asked him. Damn it. I'm such a stupid ass.

I think he's going to turn away from me but he seems to think twice and instead pulls me back into the crook of his shoulder. His fingers stay still though and I miss the caress.

For a moment we are still and quiet. I listen to the wonderful sound of his breathing and I just wait. I don't want to push him. He's a man that just can't be pushed, not because he's such a stubborn, defensive son of a bitch but because, despite his toughness, I think he's fragile inside. I'm afraid if I push too hard he'll break.

"She asked me about my parents." Doug eventually tells me. His voice is soft, quiet, hesitant, as if he's testing the waters,

"Oh!" I still don't push. I know there's history; a past. I'm sure he'll tell me in his own time.

He sighs, and it's kind of a shaky sigh. Do I really want to upset him on Thanksgiving? What kind of asshole am I?

I move, to stop him before he starts really, but he stops me,

"Don't!" he whispers, "This will be easier if you're not looking here."

"Okay!" I stay where I am. I guess he's ready to tell me so I won't stop him in full flow. It's not like I'd rather be anywhere else right now. Here is where I want to be, in his arms, always.

Oh, that's a nice thought. I'll think it again later, when I'm not trying to concentrate on listening to Doug's life story,

"I was in foster care most of my childhood."

"Wow!" I gasp. This is going to be harsh, I mean I knew he had issues, but foster care must have been tough. Is he going to tell me his parents died when he was a kid? I think I might need a bucket load of tissues. "How old were you when you were first placed in care?"

"I was five." The answer is simple, and matter of fact, but his tone is soft, quiet, almost subdued. I feel the lump starting in y throat. This is going to be a tough one. I know he said for me to stay where I am but I'll be damned if I'll let him hold me through this, not when he needs me to hold him.

I sit up, shuffle round and pull him against my chest. He protests, huffs, cusses, then settles with a soft sigh, his head against my chest and my arms wrapped around him.

"Now tell me." I whisper into his delicious hair, "I got you, Dougie."

"You're a great big saftie, you know that, Mason?" he huffs, although his tone is gentle, almost tender as he gets comfortable against my chest.

He takes some deep breaths before resuming his story,

"Like I said, I was five when I was first taken into care and because of the circumstances no one really ever talked about my parents. Everyone just avoided the subject. I would ask about my mum, but the answers I got were cagey at best. I never saw her again until I was ten and by then I'd been through so many foster homes I lost track. I was passed from pillar to post. No one could cope with me for long because I was an angry, stubborn, damaged kid. I saw my mum off and on over the next few years but by then I was so angry I never really had any kind of relationship with her. She died, Mason, when I was sixteen and I never really had a chance to get to know her at all. And my dad, I have no idea where he is. He disappeared off the face of the earth. When your mum asked me about my parents I realised I couldn't tell her anything because I don't know anything." He takes another shaky breath and I tighten my hold on him, whispering soft soothing words into his hair. He shuffles deeper into my hold, like he needs to be there, "I was always so angry about it all I never asked any questions and no one ever offered me any answers." He huffs air through his nose and stays quiet for a little while,

"Is that what upset you?" I wonder what her initial reaction was, "that you couldn't tell her anything?" If I know my mum she got upset herself. She was upset when I returned to the kitchen and found them at the bench, their heads together. I mean, of course it upset her, it's upset me. All my life she and dad have been there for me. I can't imagine how it must feel to not have that support.

"It wasn't the fact that I couldn't tell her, Mason, it was the fact that it upset her so much. I'd only just met her and I made her cry, and I wanted to make a good impression, not a bad one. I fucked it all up in the first five minutes."

"Oh my god, Doug, how can you even think that?" I have to make him feel better about all of this, "Mom doesn't think less of you because of this. I know my Mom, she won't be in the least bothered about your past. She would be upset because you were upset, not because she thought what you told her was bad."

"I've not met anyone like her, Mason. Most people just don't know what to say when I tell them about my past. They feel embarrassed, awkward, they back off, or just leave well alone because they just can't deal with it. Your mum just hugged me. She never said anything, she just hugged me and cried. No one ever just cried for me before." he sobs.

Shit! And now I'm crying. I have no idea why this man spent most of his childhood in foster care, but look at what he's made of his life since. My admiration of him just went through the roof. He's my hero, this guy. He's so brave, and spunky, and sobbing in my arms,

"Don't cry, please don't cry." I whisper, "I didn't want to upset you again. I wanted you to have a good time here, not a sad time."

"But I am having a good time, Mason." He sounds shocked that I would think otherwise, "I'm having a great time, although I think we might have done without the getting drunk bit or the hangover."

I chuckle, mostly with relief but also because he was kind of funny last night, before it got a little too intense. Dad was also quite drunk I remember,

"I'll bet Dad has a worse hangover, oh, and Bailey!" My brother was quite noisily sick just as I decided it was time to go to bed. I feel a bit guilty leaving Tyler to deal with him but I had a drunk Scotty Dog to look after, and besides, Tyler was the one that got Bailey drunk anyway.

"Hmm! I hope your dad doesn't think I'm a drunken sop." Doug sounds worried,

"Nah, my dad wants to adopt you."

"Dinnae talk such crap, Mason." He snorts,

"No really. I wouldn't be surprised if he hasn't already drawn up the papers."

"Aye?" I can hear his smirk now and I think I might have just managed to make him smile again, "If he adopts me that would make you my brother." I make a face at the thought, "And that would mean that you just had hand sex with…"

"Eww, stop!" I exclaim. He laughs, his entire body shaking against mine, "You have a wicked sense of humour Douglas McKenzie."

"Wicked I may be, but funny?" he asks, "Funny looking maybe."

"Gorgeous looking, I say."

"You want tae stop wearing those rose tinted glasses, Mason."

"Never." I gasp, "although, I am shocked you think I need them just to see how beautiful you are."

"You're beautiful, Mason, inside and out." He lifts his head and before I know it he's kissing me. Oh my god, like there's no tomorrow. Is it always going to be like this?

His hand runs smoothly across my ribs and over my hip to grasp my buttock as his leg slides over mine,

"Is it too late for round two?" he asks seductively. I feel my eyes widen,

"What happened to not being ready yet?" I hear myself gasping before I can stop myself. I gasp again as his lips capture mine again and he pulls himself fully on top of me. The feel of his body across mine, his length pressing hard into my stomach, oh shit, he feels so good. He releases my mouth to allow oxygen into my lungs, "What happened to waiting a little bit?"

"Waitin's for mugs, Mason." He gushes, "Life's too bloody short. I should never have said that. I need you now; oh god, I need you so much."

Okay, so who is this and what has he done with Dougie? Since when did he get so horny? If I didn't know any better I'd think he was high. Is he high? He can't be. Can he?

"Doug, are you high?"

"No!" he stops sucking on my earlobe and scowls at me, "What?" He must see the bewildered expression on my face, "I'm not fucking high, Mason." He hisses,

"Okay, okay, I just, I'm not…." He clamps his mouth onto my neck and I squeak, "Christ!"

His hand feeds between us and slender fingers wrap around my cock. I buck my hips, but can't help feeling that this is happening far too fast, I mean, he wanted to wait, he was the one that wasn't ready. He was so nervous and so unsure two days ago, and now this? I know we just had lovely mutual hand jobs a couple of hours ago, but he's like a man possessed.

I try to stop him but it's suddenly like I'm wrestling an octopus, his hands are all over me. Then he grabs my hand and pulls it down to hold his cock and I gasp, and wonder what the hell I'm fighting for, because I want this just as much as he does.

Our eyes meet in a moment of stillness before our lips crash together and his body covers mine. Our cocks are rubbing together in the most delicious way as he kisses along my jaw and goes back to sucking on my neck. Oh my god I'm going to have a hickie for my entire family to see and giggle about throughout Thanksgiving dinner.

"I want you inside me, Mason." Doug whispers urgently into my ear.

I gasp, not only because I think that sounds like an amazing idea but also because I can see one problem that I think he may not be thinking of right at this very moment,

"You have condoms right?" his next question voices the problem,

"Erm, well, no!" I grimace and he gasps and sits up, straddling my hips. God he looks amazing, flushed, messed up hair, sexy as hell and angry, oh no, not angry: livid,

"What?" he asks, "Why the hell not?" Why is he so damn angry? How is this my fault? Now I'm angry.

"Well in case you've forgotten, Douglas," I hear myself spitting out the words with more than a little venom, "you said you weren't ready. So what part of that statement would lead me to think you were going to jump me the minute we were in a bed together? "Nae funny business" I think were your exact words." He narrows his eyes, ready for a full on fight. I've seen the signs before, when he's had a diva fit at work. I point my finger at him, "And before you go all Diva on me, in case you hadn't noticed, I am not the only one here who could conceivably buy and wear a condom. So it's not only my responsibility, is it? Huh? Huh?" I have never pointed my finger at anyone before. What does he do to me?

He scowls. He narrows his eyes. He purses his lips. Now I'm in trouble.

He growls.

What? Dougie doesn't growl!

His leg muscles clamp around my hips and I suddenly see fire in his green eyes, fire that heats me up from the inside and makes my skin prickle and burn,

"You are so fucking hot when you lose your temper." His tone is low, and the words vibrate through me releasing the tension I was feeling.

I throw back my head and laugh out loud. How have I managed to find the only man in the world who thinks I am hot when I shout at him like a squeaky teenager?

"Fuck it, Mason, there's more than one way to skin a cat." He dives down onto my neck again and I giggle and cry out in surprise,

"What do you mean?" I pant, breathless already and we haven't done anything.

"I mean…." His warm mouth moves up to my chin and along my jaw until his lips are on mine again. He hums as our tongues twirl together. "I mean we will just have to do other things until such a time as one of us is resourceful enough to get out and get condoms."

"Right now…" I emphasise the words with a kiss, pulling him down so that he lies his full length on top of me and his entire body is pressed along mine and into mine and against mine, "Right now I would quite happily tear this world apart to find a condom, Douglas McKenzie."

He chuckles against my neck, then lifts his head, his green eyes gazing into mine and twinkling with something I have never seen so bright before.

"That would be a good start." He nods as if he's just been in a board meeting and they've just come up with a good plan to implement.

I laugh, grab him and turn him so he falls onto his back with a cry. He regards me with a heaving chest and bright eyes. Who is this sex crazed monster I've created? I love it. I attack his neck ferociously and he gasps.

"You would have me do it as well, wouldn't you?" I growl at him, "You'd be quite happy for me to tear the world apart just for you."

"You bet your bloody, perfect, pink arse I would, Mason bloody Heights."