SOARING - Chapters 5-7
Chapter Five
Justin’s POV
The sexual tension’s still here. The uncertainty is still here. The attraction is definitely still here. But something’s changed. He used to joke with me; we used to flirt. Now we behave as though we’re strangers. Awkward strangers, but strangers nonetheless. I hate how fucking polite he’s been to me. It’s kind of freaky, actually.
I’m pretty sure I said or did something to piss him off. Whatever it is, it sucks.
Because I really like him.
At first I thought it was just that I wanted to fuck him. And I do. I still do, of course. Who wouldn’t? But I like him, you know? I like who he is.
Brian Kinney is complicated. He’s like a difficult riddle or logic puzzle that you just have to figure out. The kind that has you sitting on the couch for half the day as you add and subtract and multiply until you finally come up with the solution.
No, wait. He’s more like a Sunday New York Times crossword puzzle. You know you may never finish it, but you force yourself to try because of how proud and happy and accomplished it will make you feel.
I can just imagine his cute half-assed sneer if he ever heard me say that.
That’s another thing. His facial expressions are priceless. I’ve never met anyone who can ask a loaded question with the raise of a brow. Or who can make you feel like an absolute fool with a slight twist at the corner of his lips. He personifies tongue-in-cheek humor.
I like Brian Kinney because he’s three-dimensional.
“I think you scare him,” Michael leans over to yell in my ear. We’re at Babylon, of course, and I’m watching intently as Brian dances with his latest conquest. A conquest who, I notice, looks somewhat like me. Only, he’s wearing an obviously expensive outfit. He’s slightly taller and darker than me.
More muscles too.
Okay. He looks nothing like me. But if I squint and lean my head to the left slightly, I can see the resemblance.
“Really? Are you sure it’s not because I’m short? Or translucent?” I yell back sullenly. The trick is hot, that’s for sure.
It must be sexual tension that’s gotten me all wound up tonight. I’m so fucking horny.
Michael laughs at me. “Yeah, you certainly aren’t Brian’s type.”
I’m pretty sure I shoot daggers at Michael, who scoffs and then pulls me close. “Brian likes hot things. You’re hot. Really. You’re on fire, kid. Trust me. It’s not a matter of physical attraction.”
The trick now has his tongue down Brian’s throat.
“He’s scared of you.”
“Great,” my voice falls flat.
“I think he’s confused because he wants you. And I don’t just mean to fuck. Because if Brian Kinney wanted to fuck you, he would. I think he’s torn because he’s been starting to consider you his friend, and we all know--”
“Brian doesn’t fuck his friends,” I grumble. “So I’m either a trick or his friend, huh. I can’t be both?”
Michael gives me this weird look. “You want to be just another trick?”
I shake my head vehemently. “But I do want to fuck him. I want it all.”
“I know you do. And Brian knows you do too.” Michael places a hand on my shoulder, offering silent support. We both glance at Brian and he’s staring intently at us, forgetting about his trick for a moment. When our eyes meet, though, he’s all over the guy again. “Yeah, he knows. And what I think he’s beginning to understand...” He pauses as we watch Brian lead his trick into the back room. “What he’s beginning to understand is that maybe he wants it all too.”
“Bullshit.”
“I’ve known him like half his life. He’s almost thirty. People change, Brian included. Believe me, you’re not the first to want to have a relationship with him. There have been other men who’ve been interested in Brian as more than just a fuck. Men Brian was so sexually attracted to, it drove him insane, so to speak. But he’s never had Sunday brunch with those men. Or shared friends with those men. Because those men were just tricks who wanted more than Brian was willing to give them. He’d just fuck them and leave them.”
I shrug my shoulders. “I know all this.”
“Let me put it this way,” Michael sighs. He’s frustrated with me. “You’re still here.”
“Yeah, but we haven’t fucked yet.”
“Exactly.”
“What?” That makes no sense. Honestly. I try to count back the beers Michael’s drank tonight. Not that many. Not enough to be babbling as bad as he is.
“Brian likes you, Justin. That’s why he hasn’t fucked you. That’s why he lets you keep hanging around him; around us. Because he wants you around. He likes you being around.”
I stuff my hands into my pockets and pout. “Then why doesn’t he ever really talk to me anymore? It seems so awkward now.”
Michael chews on his lips, as if weighing his options. “I’m not supposed to tell you this because I’m not supposed to know...” Okay. Now, he has my full and complete attention. “But Brian told Lindsay what you said to him at the shop. About tricking and relationships. Brian said that the way you put it... That if being in a relationship means better sex, then it mustn’t be that bad.”
If I were drinking something, I think it would shoot out of my nose. “Are you fucking with me?”
“No.”
I’m speechless.
“You’re challenging the beliefs that he’s lived by his entire life. That’s enough to scare anyone.”
Well, shit.
Chapter Six
Brian’s POV
It’s like I have no control. Control over my body, my thoughts, my actions.
An example: last night, at Woody’s, this guy tried to drag Justin home with him even after he was rejected. Of course I didn’t let that happen, that’s not the issue. I would have stopped the guy even if I didn’t know the kid he was trying to fuck. It was my reaction that bothered me. It wasn’t just that I helped Justin. It was how I felt when I saw the guy grab Justin’s arm. I was angry, for sure, but more than that...
I was fucking jealous.
I’m sitting as far away from him as possible this morning. Sometimes I’m able to just blot him out of any given situation and it’s not so bad. But right now, I can’t get rid of him. I blame the munchers entirely. They keep going on and on about this violinist they met and how “perfect” he would be for Justin. It’s obvious that he’s more than a little uncomfortable.
Good.
“He’s so sensitive, Justin. You’d love him.” Lindsay is all but swooning over the violinist. “I told him about you and he seems very interested.” She winks in his direction.
I must be scowling openly because she turns to me and says, “Jesus, Brian. I’m not trying to hook you up with Ethan. Or with Justin, for that matter.”
“So keep your cynicism to yourself this time.” Stupid Melanie.
Justin glances furtively in my direction. Our eyes meet for a moment before he looks away. He lets out a heavy sigh when he realizes that everyone seems to be waiting for his answer. He sort of mumbles something, then clears his throat and says, “I’m not sure I like sensitive men, Lindsay.”
Debbie laughs at this. “Honey, sensitive men are the best. They’re the easiest to control.”
“Ma!” I can’t help but smirk. You’ve got to love Deb.
“If you don’t like sensitive, then what do you like?” Mel asks him.
“He likes tall, dark, and brooding,” Daphne explains knowingly. “He likes men who are emotionally unavailable and don’t show open interest in him.”
The tips of Justin’s ears paint pink and he sneers out a “Shut up, Daphne” before returning to his meal.
“Well, those kind of men aren’t worth the effort,” Lindsay sighs. “It’s men like Ethan who prove to be fruitful in a relationship.”
Melanie laughs. “How do you know so much about men?”
“Look who are friends are,” Lindsay sweeps a hand across the table, “All men.”
“You’re right. We need to broaden our horizons.”
The room erupts with laughter and all I can think about is Justin being happily married to some romantic twat with a violin.
“So, what do you say, Justin? Do you want to meet Ethan?”
We let Justin trip over his words for a while, shifting food hopelessly across his plate, until Emmett says, “I think our boy’s interested in someone else.”
Justin doesn’t deny this, he just continues to play with his food, turning redder.
What? Well, now. Interesting. How come I didn’t know about this?
“Oh? I didn’t know you like someone.” Debbie leans into the table conspiratorially and asks, “Who is it?”
“Shut up. Jesus.” Justin’s obvious embarrassment makes everyone laugh.
Where have I been that I don’t even notice Justin interested in someone? Great. Here I go, getting all jealous again. If I stay here much longer, I’m probably going to say or do something that they will never let me forget. I push my chair back and everyone looks at me. “I’m just going for a smoke.”
Outside, the air is cold and my breath forms little clouds as I exhale the smoke. My silent reverie is only for a moment before I hear the backdoor open and someone climbing down the steps to join me.
It’s Daphne. She pats my jacket pockets and pulls out the pack of cigarettes. “You’re pissed off because Justin is interested in someone, huh?” She asks.
I huff out a laugh. “Not really.”
“You’re very dense, Brian.”
“What?”
“And that surprises me, because in the working world, you’re so sharp. I guess your street smarts need some work.”
“What?”
“It’s you he likes... A lot.”
Uh...
Oh.
“Well. He’s shouldn’t. That’s stupid.” Even I think I sound twelve. God.
“I agree.”
What? What a bitch. “Fuck off.”
Daphne bursts into laughter. “Not really. I think you’re good for him, Bri.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“I know you don’t want him to meet this violin player. You looked like you were going to burst when Lindsay started talking about him.”
Shit.
“It’s not that obvious, Brian. Don’t worry.” She pauses and we smoke in silence for a couple minutes. “He doesn’t think you’d want him. It’s killing him, Brian. And me. He’s getting to be so annoying. You need to just tell him that you like him--”
“This isn’t junior high, Daphne.”
“Tell him that you like him. Or at least show some interest. He hasn’t known you as long as I have. You can be pretty impossible to read.”
“Look. I don’t want a relationship... I don’t want to be all domestic and shit. And I definitely don’t want to be monogamous.”
“Well, I don’t know what Justin really wants in a relationship. But I do know this: you would be very fucking happy with him. And I know he doesn’t give a flying fuck about monogamy as long as you can satisfy him in bed. You like him, too, right?” I don’t answer, instead, I take a long drag of my cigarette. She sighs. “However, if you really don’t want him,” I can even hear the smirk that’s spreading across her face. “If you look deep inside yourself and you see absolutely no desire to be with him in any way, then you need to make it clear. That way he can move on.”
“What do you mean by ‘move on’?”
“I mean, get over you.”
“Well, I’ll have to think about that.” Daphne opens her mouth to argue, but I stop her by saying, “Because I don’t know if I want him to move on.” I pause and think. “Or get over me... I just... I just don’t know.”
Chapter Seven
Justin’s POV
I’m in the bathroom at Kinnetik, washing my hands. Daphne and I just had lunch and the sandwich I ordered made my fingers smell impossibly of onions, even though it didn’t have onions on it. Taking that into consideration, we’ve decided not to eat there again. I’m scrubbing my hands furiously under the hot water when this guy walks in. His name is Andrew or Aaron or something that starts with an A. He nods in my direction, takes a piss, and then stands right next to me.
“Can I help you?” I ask, shaking my hands out, spraying the mirror with water.
“I totally want to fuck you,” he leans down to whisper in my ear. He runs his hands quickly under the water before reaching for a towel.
Oh yeah. That’s sanitary. You’re supposed to use soap, buddy.
“I totally want to fuck you,” he repeats. “But he’d kill me if I even tried.”
Adam or Alan or whatever opens the bathroom door and slides out. I decide he’d be kind of cute if he wasn’t so damn creepy.
Shaking my head, I grab some paper towels.
Wait. What?
I throw my towels away and run to the door, yanking it open and colliding with a hard body. Looking up, I see Arthur or Anton or whatever smiling at me.
“Where’re you headed, little boy?”
Yeah. Definitely creepy. But I need to know what the fuck he’s talking about.
“Who’s he?” I ask and take a step away from him.
As his eyebrows scrunch up. There’s only one man who can do that and make it work. Fuck. I have it bad.
That sort of realization comes to me at least three times a day. It’s official. I’m pathetically obsessed with Brian Kinney. I like him so much.
“You said that ‘he’d’ kill you.”
A look of disappointment flickers in his eyes. “Oh. That. Well, Kinney. Of course.”
I swear to God, my heart leaps out of my throat, onto the floor, and slides ungracefully along the floor to Brian’s office.
“What makes you say that?” I ask cautiously.
“You guys are together, right?” Anthony or Abraham or whatever asks, a sly smile forming on his lips as he sees that, perhaps, Brian and I aren’t together.
“What makes you say that?” I say again.
“Look, if you aren’t together, great. Let’s fuck.” He puts a rather small hand on my arm, stroking it up and down.
“What makes you say that?” I repeat in an exasperated tone, ripping my arm out of his touch and stepping away from him.
He sighs. “Fuck. I don’t know. Maybe it’s the way you guys look at each other. Or touch each other. I don’t know.”
“Touch each other?”
“Yeah. You guys always press up against each other. I just assumed you were together because that’s what people do when they like each other, you know? They constantly touch one another.”
“You’re pretty observant.”
His grin is too oily for me; zero confidence, one-hundred percent creep. “Of course. I do marketing research. I’ve got to be observant.”
I take a quick inventory in my brain to find that he’s right. Brian and I behave like children with crushes, almost... But that’s what it takes for me to get it.
And I do. I get it. Oh my God. I get it.
It’d be kind of ridiculous if I wasn’t so excited.
“So, what do you say? Wanna fuck?”
“You?” He nods, his smile growing. “No.”
He does this small double-take. Like he didn’t understand that I’ve just rejected him. Then he scowls for a small moment before walking away.
I get it. Michael’s right. Brian does want me.
I replay all the times we’ve brushed up against each other. How many times in the past few months has Brian reached out to touch my hand as I’ve passed him? How many times have I nudged his arm with my shoulder?
Oh, yeah. Life is fabulous, especially when Brian Kinney wants you.
I don’t think screaming this out loud at Brian’s office would be a very good idea, though. Instead, I go back to the bathroom to lock myself in a stall and begin a series of extremely lame jumps and cheers. I’m in the middle of doing a sad impersonation of a fourth grader singing that kissing song-- “Justin and Brian sitting in a tree”--when I hear the bathroom door open. I still my movements, feeling my face grow hot. Thank God I went to a stall.
I hear whoever it is pee and then move over to the sink. I squint my eyes and look between the crack of the door to see that it’s Brian.
Oh happy day.
Without really thinking, I unlock the door and walk up behind him.
“Hi,” I say, timidly, but really fucking excited.
Brian jumps and then looks into the mirror, smiling a little when he sees me.
“Hey.” He shakes his hands out too, just as I did minutes before.
I’m doing that thing where every little similarity we have is magnified ten fold and suddenly, we’re so meant to be that I can’t even see straight.
“Would you kill him?” I ask, smiling wide, making my face hurt from the stretch.
“What?” He looks so confused that I almost feel sorry for him. Almost. Too little, too late, I guess. He’s not going to get away from me. Because he so wants me.
He turns around, leaning a little on the sink and asks, “Are you high?”
“Mmm. On you, I guess.”
Okay, that was too cheesy, even for me. So let’s just pretend that I didn’t say that, but instead I just shake my head and grin as an answer.
Only I did say that and he’s got that cute bemused look on his face. That look which, sure enough, brings his tongue into his cheek.
I can’t stop staring at his full lips. It’s like they’re drawing me towards him and before I know, I’m pressed up against him, nuzzling his face with my own. Instead of kissing his lips, I begin to kiss his jaw. That beautifully prominent jaw. And then those high cheekbones. His well-defined eyebrows. His prefect nose. Mmm. And then those lips. Full, slightly parted, soft lips. Just a quick peck, not enough, though. Never enough. So soft.
But that’s it. That’s all I’m going to do. After months and months of waiting and flirting and teasing and uncertainty, we kiss. Short and sweet. But God, it felt fucking good. So good, in fact, that my jeans are beginning to tighten around the crotch.
I can’t help myself. I move one of my hands so that it’s covering Brian’s cock. I just have to know if he feels it too.
Which he does. And not just in his groin. His whole body has taken on this unnatural flush. God, if that’s what one small kiss will do...
“What are you doing?” He asks in that gruff voice I’ve only heard a few times before.
“Something I’ve been wanting to do ever since that goddamn flight of ours.” I lick my lips. They don’t taste like me. I lick them again. “I want you so much.” There, I said it. “But I don’t want to be just another fuck. So, I’m going to leave it up to you. I’m not going to push. I’m just letting you know.” I lick my lips once more. They taste like me again. Damn.
“Letting me know?” He’s panicking. I didn’t want that.
“That I really fucking like you. And I want you.”
Brian nods and time sort of pauses.
“I don’t know what I want from you,” he finally admits.
“I know. I’ll give you time.”
It’s his turn to lick his lips. It’s silly how jealous I am that I’m not the one doing it.
“How much time?”
“How much do you need?”
We look at each other for a long time. Then, “Meet me at Babylon, tonight,” he says, before biting his bottom lip and walking out.
onto chapters 8-11