Date: Mon, 11 Feb 2002 05:45:55 EST
From: Wyzman34@aol.com
Subject: Brothers like us 3

Brothers Like Us
by Lawrence Michael Martell

Chapter Three


       Mohammed Moyenda, Mo-Mo, to his friends, stood 6ft 5in tall and
weighed a solid 275 lbs. He was a former football player turned
professional wrestler. He sported shoulder length dredlocks, with a honey
brown complexion, a full close trimmed beard, and had a handsome, rough,
masculine look. He acquired the name Mohammed Moyenda from his father,
Yohance, who refused to have his son carry a slave name. He wanted his son
to become somebody..to use his mind for the betterment of his people and
the advancement of the struggle. Yohance was far from pleased when his son
became first a professional football player, playing for the NFL and then
the Canadian Football league, and now a professional wrestler. The fact
that the senior Moyenda disapproved of what Mohammed did for a living nor
anything else he did and how he lived his life did not concern
Mohammed. The truth of the matter Yohance Moyenda was pretty much a
non-factor in Mohammed's life since he was 10 years old. He was his own man
and he would continue to do so until he was no longer of this earth and his
relationship with his father suffered greatly.
       Being gay for Mohammed was something he knew he was from the moment
he could articulate what it and he was. He knew his father would never
approve of him being gay but guess what? There wasn't much the mighty
Yohance could do about it. However Mohammed did try to..."cure" himself. He
met a young girl named Teena and after a time of dating she became the
first female he had ever had sex with. Unfortunately he didn't think about
or even use a condom and soon Mohammed Moyenda was a father himself. Jamal
Moyenda was born when Mohammed was 16 years old himself and though Yohance
was happy that he had a grandson, Mohammed had not wanted to be a father so
young but he was and his life went on with him taking the best care he
could of his son and he had done the best he could and Jamal, now a
strapping 16 year old, was doing fine in school and had a very promising
future. Jamal was blessed with his father's physical prowess and athletic
ability but he also inherited something from Mohammed that alot of people
with the exception of his close friends knew about. He inherited his
father's love of reading and writing. Jamal could sit and read for hours
and be perfectly fine with it and when he was not reading he was
writing. Mohammed encouraged his son to read write and do anything and
become the person he wanted to be. Mohammed was dedicated to being a
different parent than his father. He wanted his son to know that it was
okay to be yourself.
     Mohammed had sat down with Jamal when he was fifteen and told him that
he was gay. He was never so scared and nervous in his life. He loved his
son and the very idea that his son would feel different about him and that
their relationship would change because of something like him being gay put
a fear in him that was numbing but he was not going to live a lie
especially with his son. As always, Jamal surprised his father by being
understanding and excepting.
             "You are my father and I love you...no matter what."
       It brought tears to his eyes to hear his son say that and it made
him wish that he and his father could have such a relationship but the
impass between himself and Yohance was just too great to be bridged.
       Mohammed was in the weight room of his four bedroom home in the
quiet suburban subdivision called Wyndham. His football career, which began
at age 23 and ended with his retirement at 30, had netted him a hefty
amount of money which he invested wisely and when he joined the XWF...the
X-treme Wrestling Federation...he was given a very hefty contract that was
more than comfortable. In his first year in the XWF wrestling as The
Hammer, which was also his nickname while playing football, he was one of
the most popular and fastest rising XWF superstars. There was talk that he
would be in the semi-main for the next PPV which would lead to a main event
at XWF: Warrior Rumble 10, the XWF's annual big PPV event. Keeping his body
in great physical shape was important. With XWF being on national TV and
PPV's the XWF big wigs wanted all their superstars to have perfect bodies,
to be handsome and sexy to some degree. Finishing his bench presses he
looked in the full length mirror at his reflection. He flexed and grimaced
a bit from pain. His back was still a bit sore from his match Monday Night
in Dallas, Texas when he got hit in the back with a chair. Fake my ass,
that shit hurt like a motherfucker. He did look pretty good but being 275
was about 30 pounds heavier than he was when he played ball and that took
getting use to. The after match pain was not much different than the after
football pain except he was expected to wrestle hurt more than he was
expected to play football hurt. But it was fun. The travelling, the fans
chanting his name..Hammer! Hammer! Hammer!...the brotherhood with his
fellow wrestlers...much like that between football players....and the money
it was all great.
       The door to the weight room opened and Brett walked in carrying a
bottled water and a bottle of pills. Brett stood five foot eleven in height
and was about 163 lbs. He had a nice pecan tan complexion and had
cornrows. He had handsome, sharp facial features and the look of a model,
which he was and a successful one.
             "It's time for your pills." Brett said.
       Mohammed made a face. He hated taking pills. "My back is doing fine,
baby."
             "The doctor said every four hours for ten days. That's if you
want to keep wrestling." Brett aid matter of factly.
   Mohammed sighed and accepted the water and the small white pill,
Flexerel. He popped the pill and gulped down the water. Brett looked around
the weight room and sighed.
             "You aren't supposed to be lifting weights for ten days."
Brett complained.
             "It won't kill me." Mohammed answered.
             "And when your back gets worse."
             "It won't."
       There was a pause. Mohammed finished his water. Brett looked at the
floor.
             "What?" Mohammed asked.
             "Nothing." Brett asked.
             "No there is something. What is it?" Mohammed asked.
      Brett looked at Mohammed. "I love you." And he turned and left the
room.
       Mohammed looked at the closed door. He and Brett had been together
for six years as a "married couple". They had met while Mohammed was still
playing for the NFL. Mohammed had attended a party after they had made the
playoffs and he saw Brett and thought he was the handsomest, sexiest
brother in the room. Though Mohammed was gay and had known it he had not
really gone out with another man and the few times that he "hooked up" it
was just a sex thing. it was Brett that made the first move. He had come up
to Mohammed and told him how much of a football fan he was and the rest, as
they say, was history. They talked that night at the party, after the
party, they went out for dinner, a movie, a concert, and Mohammed got him
in to the playoff game and they won. Before long Brett and Mohammed went
from dating to seeing each other exclusively to becoming engaged and then
married. They successful navigated their relationship with their careers,
which were very public. Though Mohammed had no shame about being gay, his
personal and private business was just that personal and private. It would
have probably drawn undo attention to himself if everyone knew he was
gay. Ofcourse they would be amazed to learn how many football players as
well as wrestlers that there were who were gay.
       Mohammed and Brett were a very successful couple..financially that
was but lately there seemed to be a wall forming between them within the
last year. True there had been changes with both of them. Mohammed's
wrestling career had him on the road alot and Brett's modeling career had
exploded into some acting and even some work on some music videos they were
a couple of successful men in a relationship and it seemed that they were
going in opposite directions. He had to get things back on track before it
was too late.
       Mohammed walked out of the weight room and as he headed to the
bedroom he saw Brett in the computer room working on the computer. Mohammed
stood in the doorway and watched him for a second before he walked in. He
began massaging Brett's very tense shoulders and when the tension didn't
leave, Mohammed kissed his neck.
             "How about we go out tonight?" Mohammed said.
             "And do what?" Brett asked still working on the computer.
             "I don't know. Have dinner, see a movie or something."
             "You took your Flexerel. You can't drive with that in you and
soon you will be knocked out. Maybe another time." Brett said.
       Mohammed stood up and stiffened. "Yeah, maybe some other time." And
he left the room and walked right into their bedroom. He plopped down on
the bed and closed his eyes and thought was it worth breaking down the wall
between them.
       The ringing of the phone awoke Mohammed. As he answered it he
checked the time. It was just a little past ten o'clock.
             "Moyenda here," he answered.
             "Hey Mo-Mo, it's Eric."
             "Sup man?"
             "Whatup with The Hammer? How you gonna let that crazy redneck
hit you with a steel chair, bruh?"
             "Hahahaha! I got something for his ass at the next pay per
view." Mohammed replied.
             "I feel ya. You know the brothers gonna be ringside for ya."
Eric said.
             "Thanks man. Y'all get the tickets I sent?"
             "Yeah man. Thanks. So will I be able to say that my brotha is
the XWF Continental Champion after the PPV?" Eric asked.
             "I hope so."
             "Oh? You ain't gonna give a bruh a clue?"
             "Helllllll naw!" Mohammed said laughing.
             "Aight..aight. When you going back on the road?"
             "I'll be flying out to Louisville, Kentucky in two days."
             "Well, cool. Since you will be around I think it's time for a
meeting of the Brothers. How about tomorrow night?" Eric said.
             "The Brothers...yeah, that sounds cool." Mohammed had a
thought. "Hey E-man can I bring Brett?"
       There was a few second pause before he answered. "Uh..yeah..sure."
             "Aight man. Cool."
             "I'll holler at ya later Mo-Mo." Eric said and he hung up the
phone.
       Mohammed got out of bed and walked into the adjoining master
bathroom where he took a piss and after washing his hands he returned to
the bedroom. He sat on the bed, the bed he had shared with Brett for six
years. Whatever was going on with them they needed to work on it. He knew
that Eric, Shane and Sean really didn't like Brett very much and Brett knew
it too but Mohammed figured that by bringing him along he would feel
included and a part of Mohammed's circle of friends. Mohammed got up and
headed to the computer room so he could tell Brett about tomorrow night.
       When he entered the computer room there was no Brett. Mohammed
walked into the living room, then the weight room and still no Brett. After
going through the entire house and finding no sign of Brett, Mohammed
returned to their bedroom, undressed and crawled into bed and drifted off
in a troubled sleep.

******* *********** ********** ************** ***************
*******************
             "So who's all comin' over tomorrow night?"
       Andre asked me when I told him about my plans. Dre knew the deal
with my friends and we had an understanding that if there was going to be
any gatherings or parties that we would let the other one know about it and
so far it has worked out very well.
             "Just the usual suspects...Sean, Shane, and Mo-Mo,"
       I just couldn't bring myself to mention Brett's name. I still
couldn't believe Mo-Mo had asked if he could bring that arrogant model
boyfriend of his to the get together.
             "Mo-Mo? Ain't he the brother that we saw wrestling Monday
night?"
             "Yeah..The Hammer. That's who we're goin to see in Vegas in
two weeks."
             "Man, that's cool as shit." Andre said.
       I had an idea. "Hey Dre, you wanna go with us?"
             "Huh? naw man. You guys got your plans I don't wanna be in the
way."
             "Man, you ain't gonna be in the way. You one of the brothers,
man." I said.
       Dre smiled. "Man, that's nice and I 'preciate it but you guys done
made your plans and all and getting a ticket to Vegas now would be..."
             "No problem. Dre, you cool with the brothers and you are my
friend and I want you to come with us." I said.
       Dre got silent for a moment and then extended his hand. "Thanks
man. Thanks alot."
             "No problem, bro." I said giving him the soul brother
handshake.
             "Well, I'll make myself scarce tomorrow night then." Dre said.
             "Okay but we gonna be playing cards and getting a little drink
on."
             "Whatcha gonna be playin?" Dre asked.
             "Spades...as usual."
      Dre was doing some figuring in his head and I knew what it was before
he said it.
             "You guys have a team of two. I'd be the odd man." Dre said.
             "Well...actually...you wouldn't be." I began.
             "Whatcha mean?"
             "Mo-Mo's bringing his boy, Brett." I said.
             "Oh, That's the brother that's a model or something, right?"
             "Yeah. Mo-Mo asked if he could bring him and I couldn't tell
him no."
       Dre smiled, "So If I come then there will be another person around
who could make things more comfortable?"
       Now I felt bad. I have never invited Dre to hang out with us before
but it wasn't because I thought he'd be uncomfortable, it just never
crossed my mind. Now it looked like I was just inviting him to hang out
cause Brett was coming.
             "Naw bruh. You are always invited my brother...it's just
that..."
             "Hey E, I'll hang out for a bit if it will make things cool
BUT I'm not going to be this Brett cat's spade partner though." Dre said.
             "Cool...Mo-Mo can be his partner. You can be mine." I said.
             "Hell naw nigga. I seen you play and you ain't so good." Dre
replied.
             "What!?"
             "Sorry bruh but it's true." Dre said smiling.
             "Fine...then it will be you and Sean then cause Shane and I
are usual partners and we are going to kick your asses sucka."
             "Aight...we'll see man."


       Mohammed awoke when he heard Brett's car pull into the driveway. He
checked the time. It was half past midnight. Mohammed was angry. He laid in
the bed and when Brett walked in he pretended to be asleep. He watched,
through slitted eyes, as Brett undressed and then as he tipped into the
bathroom and took a shower. Brett came back out dried off and a towel
around his waist. Brett slide into the bed next to Mohammed trying not to
wake him.
             "Where have you been?" Mohammed asked not turning over to look
at Brett.
             "Did I wake you up?" Brett asked.
             "No. Where have you been?" Mohammed asked again.
       Brett turned over to find Mohammed's back to him. "I had to run out
and mail somethings."
             "For more than two hours?"
             "Well, I stopped by Da City for a drink."
       Mohammed turned around, sat up and stared at Brett. "YOU DID
WHAT???"
             "I stopped by Da City for a drink."
             "You went to that sleazy pick-up joint? What the hell for?"
Mohammed demanded.
             "I just wanted to get out of the house."
             "Oh...so you couldn't go out with me but you could go out on
your own?"
       Brett sighed, "You were asleep when I left and I knew you needed to
rest and that Flexerel you took had you knocked out."
       Mohammed just looked at Brett. "You know Brett, I wanted to go out
with you earlier."
             "Mohammed...nothing happened at Da City. I just went to get a
drink and that's all."
       Mohammed turned over away from Brett. "Okay whatever. Good night,
Brett."
       Brett wrapped his arms around Mohammed but Mohammed tensed up and
moved away from him.
       Brett sighed heavily, "C'mon baby. Why would I want to get mixed up
with that trifling trade at Da City when I have you?"
       Brett wrapped his arms around Mohammed again but this time Mohammed
did not move away but he was still tense.
             "I don't see why you even had to go to Da City. You could have
gone anywhere but there."
             "Mohammed....baby....nothing went on at Da City. I just happen
to be going by there and I stopped in to get a drink and I talked to a few
people and then I left and I came home to you."
       Brett moved closer and kissed Mohammed gently behind his neck while
he pressed his naked body closer to him. He continued to kiss Mohammed's
neck while allowing his body to press tightly against him. He knew that it
would be a matter of time before Mohammed would respond. His tongue began
to trace a trail from Mohammed's neck to his ear lobe and as he flicked and
licked his ear lobe he could feel Mohammed's body slowly relax as Mohammed
sighed and groaned softly. He let his hands run across Mohammed's hairy
chest and played with his nipples. Mohammed tried to will his body to calm
down but he couldn't. Brett was hitting all the right stops and driving him
crazy. When Brett's hand found Mohammed's hard and erect dick it was
obvious that what he was doing was working.
       Mohammed couldn't stand it anymore. He turned around towards Brett
and as they kissed passionately, Mohammed's hands roamed over Brett's body
causing Brett to moan and groan in delight and pleasure. Mohammed rolled
Brett onto his back and began licking and kissing a trail down Brett's
taunt body and down to his belly button where Mohammed let his tongue dig
into the bellybutton.
             "Ahhhh...Oh yeah...Oh yeah...." Brett moaned as Mohammed moved
further down his body until finally Brett could feel Mohammed's hot mouth
on his dick and began sucking.
             "OOOH SHIT!" Brett moaned, "Yes...yes...suckit! suckit!"
       Mohammed continued down after he stopped sucking Brett's dick and
began to eat his ass and Brett let out a loud moans and gasps of pleasure
as the teeth and tongue went to work. Brett wrapped his legs around
Mohammed and ran his hands through his dreadlocks encouraging him to
continue and not to stop.
             "OOH SHIT BABY! YES BABY! D...D...DON'T STOP!!!!" Brett
pleaded.
       Mohammed looked up at Brett, who's face was contorted in a mask of
pleasure and ectasy. Excitement built with in him as his own raging
erection demanded to enter to familiar territory. Mohammed stopped the
action on Brett's ass and he moved up Brett's body and looked into Brett's
eyes. Brett looked back, his breath shallow, his pulse racing from sexual
excitement.
             "Make love to me," Brett begged, "Make love to me now."
       Mohammed grabbed Brett's face with both his hands and kissed him
gently and passionately. Then Mohammed manuevered his dick so that it
entered Brett's tight ass. Brett arched his back raising up his ass to meet
Mohammed and as the pleasurable pressure took him, Brett sighed, moaned and
gasped. He moved his hips up and down as Mohammed worked in and out.
       Mohammed thrusted deep into Brett's hot depths. His body was on
fire, his head was swimming. His dick was in control and all it wanted was
release...sweet release as he thrusted and thrusted deep into Brett's
inside. As Brett wrapped his arms and legs around Mohammed with each thrust
and each stroke, holding taking it all, Mohammed kissed him...his tongue
invaded and claiming Brett's mouth.
       Brett threw back his head with each hot and passionate thrust and
groaned as the tension within him grew. Mohammed was now pounding with a
steady rhythm up into his asshole. He could feel Mohammed's testicles
slapping off his ass with each powerful thrust. He then felt Mohammed's
hand grip his own hard dick and began pulling out it and electric pleasure
shot through him as he arched his back and his toes curled and his feet
wiggled. The tension in his own dick was building and he was ready to
explode.
       Mohammed's breathing grew faster as he pounded faster and harder. He
was ready to cum, he was ready to explode. He raised his upper body off of
Brett and with three more powerful thrusts Mohammed shouted as he exploded
hot cum into Brett's hot and battered ass, feeling it filling the boy's ass
and spilling back out again to drip down his thighs.
       Brett felt the cum spurt up inside him. His eyes were closed but he
still felt Mohammed's hand moving roughly over his dick. He opened his
mouth in a long drawn moan as the hand forced cum to shoot up out of his
fat, hard dick and all over his stomach and chest. As Brett's dick deflated
and he lay panting he felt Mohammed withdrawing his slowly softening dick
from his sore but satisfied ass and as he did Brett trembled and shivered.
       Mohammed covered Brett's body with his own and held him close and
tight as he planted feather kisses on him and caressed his body. He looked
deep into Brett's eyes. God, how he loved him. He kissed Brett again and
Brett kissed him back.
             "Mohammed..." Brett said softly. "I love you, baby. Do you
believe me?"
       Mohammed kissed him and smiled. "Yes, I do and I love you too."
             "I'm sorry I upset you and made you mad. I won't go to Da City
without you again and I wanted to spend time with you." Brett said as he
feather kissed Mohammed's lips again.
       Mohammed smiled and his heart sang. "Do you really mean that?"
             "Yes. Yes, I do." Brett answered.
             "Well, Eric is having a get together tomorrow night and I want
you to come with me." Mohammed said as he kissed Brett.
       Brett smiled. "Baby..you never asked me to come before..."
             "I know and it's my bad. I want you to come and hang out with
us."
             "That's wonderful..but Mohammed...I don't think your friends
like me..."
             "Cause they don't really know you and tomorrow night they will
get to know why I love you so much." Mohammed kissed Brett and enveloped
him into a big, long hug. But if Mohammed could see the troubled look on
Brett's face he would have asked questions. Thank God he could not.
       I don't know why I went out. I mean I was all set to chill at the
house after all I had my brothers coming over tomorrow night but for some
reason after talking to Dre and all I was feeling restless and I decided to
go for a drive and for some reason I was at Da City. I went inside and
spoke with the bouncer, Mel, and the sistah at the door, Bev, who both
liked me for some reason. I walked into the club which had a pretty good
crowd and as the DJ thumped P. Diddy's "Bad Boyz 4 Life" I made my way to
the bar. As I approached I saw two brothers near the pool tables in a deep,
passionate kiss. They were groping and pawing at each other. This was not
unusual for Da City.It's rep as a pick up/hook up joint was well known. You
could see brothas getting their jimmies waxed in the restroom or even in
the dark corners near the pool tables like these two brothas. These two
were hot and heavy into and as I went to the bar to order me a drink I
looked back and I could not believe my eyes. One of those brothas was very
familiar. I had only met him twice but I knew him from his modeling
work. It was motherfucking Brett. Mo-Mo's Brett. The two of them came up
for air and looked as if they were making plans to go somewhere else when
Brett turned around and noticed me looking at him. Perhaps he
recognized. Perhaps he didn't. Perhaps he didn't think I say him or perhaps
he thought I did but whatever happened he was gone like a shot and he left
his "buddy" behind.
       I turned back around to the bar where the bartender had sat my beer
but my mind was on what I had just seem and processing it all. I was so
deep into my thoughts that I didn't notice that anyone in the place was
checking me out until this brotha spoke.
       "Wassup man? It seems that we meet again."
       I looked up and couldn't believe my eyes. It was the brotha from the
gym, Jermaine. The image of him jacking his jimmie in the lockerroom came
rushing back to my mind and all I could do was look up at him, speechless.