Screw (Hell's Handlers MC 8)

With a chuckle, Gumby walked into the warm house. “One track mind.”

And just like that, they were back on even ground. Screw couldn’t believe the relief he felt at having mended that rift. He winked. “You know it.” As Gumby strode past him, Screw grabbed his arm. “Thank you,” he said.

Gumby nodded.

“I won’t push. Promise. Take the time you need.” Screw swallowed the terror his next words evoked. “I’m not going anywhere.”

For a second, Gumby hesitated, then he cupped Screw’s jaw in his large hand and kissed him. It was a tender meeting of lips, perhaps the softest kiss he’d ever received. Their tongues tangled for a few moments before Gumby pressed one last chaste kiss to lips then whispered, “For the record, you’re only the second man who’s had his lips on mine.”

The first obviously being the kid Gumby experimented with.

And damn if that didn’t do something warm and unsettling to Screw’s insides. Something that hit on his hot button. Something he couldn’t yet talk about. So instead, he said, “Want a beer?”

As Gumby shrugged out of his jacket, he said, “Yeah, that sounds perfect right about now. Thanks.”

Gumby looked so right, standing in Screw’s house. Like he belonged there. Now they just needed Jazz to walk in the door and his little fantasy would be complete. But that was a fool’s wish, especially since Gumby had just come from a meeting with Copper where he was asked to aide in fucking over an enemy club.

And on that note…

“You met with Copper?” Screw called from the kitchen as he grabbed them each a winter ale. He returned to the den to find Gumby placing his jacket over the back of the couch.

“I did, yeah.”

“And? You in?”

Gumby nodded. “I’m in. I’ll be at church with you guys to plan.”

Screw held out the bottle. “Good. Thanks.” God, this was awkward as fuck. Maybe they should talk more about the club and the CDMC, but Screw just wanted to enjoy Gumby’s company for a bit. They needed to just…hang. So instead of continuing that discussion, he said, “You wanna watch a movie or something?”

Gumby walked toward him, a smile on his handsome face. He reached out and rubbed his palm on Screw’s beard. Screw wanted to lean into the touch like a contented cat. So he did. Then he captured Gumby’s hand in his own, drawing it away from his face. This must be the one that had been broken. How had he not noticed the slightly crooked pinky and how his middle finger didn’t fully straighten? Though he hadn’t planned on making the mood heavy again, Screw lifted Gumby’s hand and placed a kiss on his knuckles. He wished he could do more to heal the man, but how could he right a youth filled with abuse and hatred? “Does it hurt at all, Will?”

Gumby shrugged. “Once in a while. If I over do it. This cold weather sure doesn’t help. I’m all right, Luke. Promise.”

They stared at each other for a heated moment before Gumby tilted his head and gave Screw a half smile. “You on the other hand are not.” This time he tugged on Screw’s beard. “This is getting a little out of control there, man.”

With a laugh, Screw scratched his chin. The itch had mostly gone away, but Gumby was right. It was looking messy as hell. “First time I’ve let it get longer than scruff. I’m liking the beard, but I don’t really know what the hell I’m doing with it. Which is why it’s looking all raggedy.”

“I can help you trim it up if you want?”

Screw raised an eyebrow as he took a sip of his beer. “Sure this isn’t just a ploy to get close to my jugular with a pair of scissors?”

Gumby threw back his head and let out a laugh. Finally, any lingering tension dissolved and all that remained was two guys enjoying each other’s company.

“Leave it to you to think along those lines.”

“I had to check,” he said with a wink.

Bumping his shoulder, Gumby said, “Come on, where’s your bathroom.”

Screw lead him through the house into the master bathroom.

“Nice place,” Gumby said.

He wasn’t much for decorating, but at least his place wasn’t a filthy shithole of a bachelor pad. For some odd reason, Gumby’s opinion of his home mattered. “Thanks. Could use a woman’s touch. Maybe Jazz would be willing to spruce it up a bit.”

“Bet she’d love that.”

“Right through there.” Screw gestured for Gumby to head into the master bathroom. Once they were both inside the master bath, he fished out his supplies and handed them over.

“What are you thinking?” Gumby asked.

“Just neaten it up. I think I’ll keep it cut pretty close. Whatever you think looks good. I trust you.”

The air thickened as their gazes caught. Screw propped his ass against the vanity, waiting for Gumby to get to it. Watching the other man lay out the clippers, scissors, and beard oil proved to be a treat. His long, deft fingers gave a man all sorts of naughty ideas. Especially someone like Screw, who pretty much had dirty thoughts all day long.