Nesting Habits by Descoteaux Charley

Author:Descoteaux, Charley [Descoteaux, Charley]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Tags: Gay Fiction
Publisher: CeeTwo Publishing
Published: 2019-12-26T16:00:00+00:00

UNCLE LENNY frowned when Phil’s Jeep pulled up at the jobsite the next morning. Lee squeezed Phil’s hand and said he’d call later, and Phil reminded him of their deal before he let go.

The whole morning Uncle Lenny said three words, and they were all basically grunted versions of no. Close to lunchtime, Lee got a text from Phil.

4.5 hours until I suck your dick again.

Lee sat on the tool bucket and grinned. He knew it was a shit-eating grin but was still surprised when Uncle Lenny tossed a wrench onto the ground at his feet and glared.

“Put that thing away. It’s not lunch yet, and we have a lot left to do on this job.”

“Okay.”

“You can read on your own time.”

“O-kay. Sorry.” He almost said his leg ached and he needed a break but didn’t want to seem too weak or lame.

They worked another half hour and then took lunch. Uncle Lenny scowled at him over his sandwich, so Lee kept his phone in his pocket. Lee tried to talk to him, but something had crawled up Uncle Lenny’s ass and died recently, so he didn’t say much. Until he’d finished eating.

“Another three hours on this job. Then I’m taking you out to Tina’s.”

“I have an apartment. I’m going home.”

“Goddammit, you think I’m stupid? Don’t answer that. I know you spent last night with that Phil. I don’t know—”

“Don’t talk any shit about Phil.”

They stared at each other, hard, until Lenny finally looked away.

“I’m an adult. I’ll love who I love.”

“Fuck.” Lenny stood, took a few steps away, and lit the second of his three cigarettes for the day. Lee gave him a minute to smoke in peace.

“Is Bill still looking to sell that house?”

“What the…? I thought you had an apartment.”

“I do. But I want a house. Is he?”

Uncle Lenny sighed and ran a craggy, tan hand over his deeply lined face. The realization he was aging—and not all that well—fought with Lee’s sandwich. “You don’t want that house.”

“Why not? It’s a cute house, and he’s not asking the moon for it.”

“Because he won’t sell it to you.”

“Why not?”

Uncle Lenny’s expression softened—as much as it ever did—but he didn’t answer. He walked the few steps to the rear bumper of his truck and half-sat, half-leaned against it.

“You know, I get it. I know you only tolerate me and don’t accept that your only nephew is gay, but at least you could respect me enough to give me an answer.”

After another long silent moment, Lee tossed the remains of his lunch back into his insulated bag and stood. Looking down at Uncle Lenny, Lee felt more sorry for him than angry, which came through in his tone. “Fuck you too, Uncle Lenny. Finish this job yourself.”

He hobbled down the driveway and another half a block before sitting on someone’s low brick wall to call Phil. They’d almost made it to Jerry’s, when Lee’s phone rang. He didn’t say hello, just accepted the call and listened. It was Uncle Lenny’s play, and Lee didn’t see why he should make it any easier for him.

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