SOARING - Chapters 8-11 (end)
Chapter Eight
Brian’s POV
Well, I didn’t expect that when I went to take a piss.
The boy’s set an ultimatum. I don’t do ultimatums... Just like I don’t do the same person twice or relationships.
“You don’t do a lot of things,” Michael tells me, when I visit him at the shop after work.
This is why I hate having a best friend. “I just--”
“Don’t want to take any chances?”
“No. It’s just--”
“For celebrating this grandiose life-style of--what it is you say?-- ‘no apologies, no regrets,’ you sure don’t take very many chances. You don’t ever give yourself the opportunity to regret something, or apologize for it.”
“Fuck off.”
“Well, it’s hypocritical of you to have this ‘I don’t give a fuck attitude,’ but then totally give a fuck.”
Did I already say I hate Michael? Because right now, I really do.
“You’re supposed to be on my side.” God, I’m whining now. What next?
“I am on your side. I want you to be happy. I don’t want you to be alone for the rest of your life, getting old and gray without someone there to... I don’t know... Comfort you or something.”
I scoff. “I won’t need comforting, Mikey. And with any luck, I’ll be dead before anything grays.”
Michael’s been setting up a display behind his counter, but stops when I say this. He turns around and I see what can only be disappointment in his eyes.
He’s like the father I never had sometimes.
“You don’t mean that, Brian.”
Turning away from him, I walk over to the rack of Japanese comics and pick one up. I’m greeted with two male police officers butt-fucking. Holding it up, I say, “You’ve gotta love the Japanese. This is nearly pornographic.”
“It’s not pornography, it’s art. And don’t think that you’re going to get me sidetracked. We need to talk about this. About Justin.”
I shrug and put the comic away. It’s by a woman, anyway. What does she know about gay male sex? Hell, probably more than I care to--God, I’m getting myself distracted, not Michael.
“I don’t want to talk about Justin.”
“Then why the fuck are you here? I mean, you nearly break down my door to tell me that he kissed you! Just give the guy a chance. Take some time, think about what you really want.”
“But I don’t do ultimatums.”
“Giving someone an option isn’t an ultimatum.”
I shake my head. “You weren’t there. He was so demanding.”
“So, he’s a bossy bottom. You yourself always say that that’s the best type of bottom.”
“He’s just a kid.”
“He’s twenty-four. Look, Brian. What’s the big deal? I mean, if you don’t want him, then you should’ve made it clear from the beginning. Right? And if you only wanted to fuck him, then you would’ve already. Just admit that you like Justin. It’ll make your life so much easier, Bri. I promise.”
“Of course I like him. What’s not to like? But that’s not the issue.” I see Michael clench his fists. Uh oh. I’ve fallen into the danger zone without even knowing it. I need to tread this carefully. “It’s that I can’t give him what he wants.”
“Can’t? Or won’t?”
“Why do you care so much?”
“I like Justin.”
“So, what? You’re really on his side?”
That did it. Michael rests against his counter and glares at me. It’s the glare he learned from his mother. The kind that makes me feel two inches tall. I’ve only been privy to this glare twice before, and both times it was like my heart was ripped out of my body and thrown into the garbage disposal. Fuck this. But Michael doesn’t attack, like I expect. Instead, he folds his arms across his chest and says, “Fuck you, Brian. I’m not taking his side. I really shouldn’t have to take a side. I’m just trying to stop you from making the biggest mistake of your life. Hell, if you weren’t so obviously interested in him, I’d probably tell him to fuck off. I just... He’s a good guy, Brian. I really I don’t want to see him get his heart broken because of you, like all the others.”
I swallow a laugh. Michael’s ready to deck me, so laughing at him would not be a good idea. “I haven’t broken any hearts.”
“You know you have.”
We look at each other, staring each other down, but really, there’s no way I can beat Michael when he’s like this. “I don’t want to deal with this, Brian. This melodramatic bullshit. We’ve had enough of that growing up, wouldn’t you agree? So, why don’t you just tell me what’s really on your mind? Because I know you didn’t come here to argue with me. You know you can’t win this one.”
I’m about to say something insanely stupid when his words sink in. God. He’s right. I didn’t come here for an argument, I came here for...
For his fucking support.
That’s it. I’m fucked.
“What?” He mimics me by raising an eyebrow. I wonder when he learned to do that.
“I think I’m... I’m...”
Michael laughs softly. “Oh? You think? God, Brian. I know you are. We all do. You just need to work up your courage to tell him. Take your time. He said he’d wait.”
Defeated, I explain, “Well, I already asked him to meet me at Babylon tonight. So, it’s kind of a now or never situation.”
“What? I don’t--”
“I don’t need that long to decide. I’ve had months already. Months of fucking torture,” I admit to him, offering a small grin. “I just... I want someone to tell me not to do this.”
“Then you came to the wrong person.”
“Yeah? Probably.”
“Or maybe you knew I wouldn’t talk you out of... Whatever you plan on doing. That’s why you came to me.” Michael’s face erupts into a huge smile. “So, you’ve already made up your mind... And you knew I’d tell you to knock your socks off... Then, what the fuck do you really need me for?”
“Personal cheerleader?” I ask, and my voice sounds so... needy, I almost don’t recognize it.
“Always,” he smirks and leans in to kiss my cheek. “So,” he begins, pulling away and returning to his display. “What are you going to wear?”
I snort. “Bye, Michael.”
“Bye, lover-boy.”
I walk out of the door, only to poke my head in one last time. “I still don’t do fucking ultimatums,” I call out, but leave before the comic he’s hurled at me hits it’s target.
Chapter Nine
Justin’s POV
There are these two twins making a stir on the dance floor. They’ve got half the club riveted, watching their every move. I’m not really attracted to them, but they’d make fabulous models. According to Brian though, they’re terrible in bed. What a shame.
We’re all at the bar, surveying the dance floor. I notice most of the guys that aren’t watching the twins are watching Brian, who isn’t doing anything other than leaning against the bar, sipping his whisky. But damn, he’d look sexy with a pitchfork and fucking overalls. He hasn’t said anything to me. He hasn’t really even acknowledged my presence other than a curt nod when he first came in. I want to ask, but I told him I’d wait.
I forgot how bad I am at waiting.
The twins are now dancing with this bear of a man. He’s so huge and hairy, I wish I had some pencils and paper to capture the moment. They’re working a number on him and it makes me giggle slightly. The way they’ve made a bear sandwich, the look of utter ecstasy on his face, the crowd’s bemused expressions--I want to encapsulate it all.
Oh. Brian moves to stand in front of me and I stop mid-laugh. We stare at each other for a long moment until it becomes too intense and I have to look away. His hand finds it’s way to the back of my neck and he pulls me closer and closer until I’m flat against his chest.
His smell overwhelms me. Spicy. Smoky. Mmm.
I open my eyes slightly as I take in Brian’s scent and I see Ted and Emmett standing next to me, staring at us with open mouths. Michael, on the other hand, is trying to hide a smile by biting his lips.
“Let’s dance,” Brian whispers in my ear. He moves his hand from my neck to my drink, pulling it out of my hand and placing in on the bar. “You looked so hot just now. The way you were watching them dance; so intense. Like you were memorizing every movement. Fuck, I’ve never seen anything as sexy as you.”
No one’s ever said shit like that to me. As if I couldn’t be more nervous. I think I’m going to vomit.
His perfect hands run down my shoulders, across my biceps, over my knuckles, and rest in my own calloused ones for a moment. I’d say we were holding hands, but knowing Brian, he would probably kill me. His fingers tighten around my own and he steps backwards, pulling me with him. He offers me a small grin, then rests an arm over my shoulders and I timidly place my own around his waist. Despite being terrified, I have to admit it’s all kind of romantic.
“I get the feeling that I make you nervous.” He comments with obvious humor in his voice once we’re on the dance floor. He’s been trying to get me to make eye contact with him again, but I can’t. After all that, I think I’ve finally lost my wits. I mean, this is it. The moment I’ve been waiting months for. The moment I was so sure would probably never come. This is it. I know I can’t control my body right now and I don’t trust myself not to maul him.
I nod when he says that.
“Why?”
I shrug.
“Quite verbal today, aren’t we?” Silence. I look at his chest, his neck, his right shoulder, his left ear, but I still can’t look at his face. I hear him sigh and quickly, without any time for me to react, his hand is on my chin, forcing me to look at him.
We stare at each other awkwardly before he places his arms back on my shoulders. Brian begins to move to the music effortlessly and after watching him for a long moment, I wrap my own arms around his waist again and start to move with him.
I swear to God, my body is acting on it’s own accord because I find that, without any coercing, my hands are reaching for his head, pulling his lips down to meet my own in a scorching kiss. A kiss that leaves both of us breathless and bruised. I don’t give him any time to question my actions or pull away completely. I just throw myself at him, jutting against his leg and plunging my tongue deep into his mouth. He pauses for only a moment before he returns my touch with the same amount of urgency.
His kisses awaken every part of my body. It like even my knees have become erogenous zones as they brush against his legs. The awkwardness of our position has him moving his arms around my waist in order to press me closer to him. He’s so fucking tall that I’m nearly pulled off the ground. The added sensation of being weightless makes me shiver and he moans into my mouth.
I eat his noises as if I’m starving.
I feel my shirt being raised from behind and his warm hands are finding their way underneath it. One moves up and one moves down, as if to paint my body with boiling passion. I can’t help but whimper as his fingers move lower and lower, expertly tracing that part of my body.
Brian shifts slightly and his mouth is now trailing down my chin, across my jaw, around my neck. Oh. I gasp loudly as his fingers prod me with more force than I expect. I crane my neck and he’s all over it--licking, nipping, sucking. For the first time in my life, I pray that he leaves his mark on my body. I hate hickeys, they’re tacky and ugly. But, fuck, Brian could tattoo his name on my forehead and I’d be on cloud nine.
My mind is working overtime. Before I get lost in this, I need to figure some things out. I know that I don’t want to force him to bite off more than he can chew. Baby steps, you know? So I decide to let him choose the place we first fuck. I don’t want him to feel obligated to bring me home, or to come home with me.
He’s not making any suggestions, though. And the longer we stand here, kissing and touching, the harder I get.
His hands and mouth are doing wonderful things to my body and it’s better than anything I imagined. Needles in my fingers and toes, I feel something ignite deep within me. I lick his lips one more time before I take the final plunge and ask, “Isn’t there a back room here?”
Brian stares at me, his eyebrows knitted together in contemplation. “You want me to take you to the back room?” He doesn’t look happy. I can feel the fire slowly die as he backs away from me. “The back room? No.”
“What?”
So, maybe he doesn’t want the back room. I would suggest some place else, but now it seems as though he doesn’t want any of it. Which is wrong, because I know he wants me. I mean, I haven’t been more sure of anything in my entire life. But there he is, backing away from me and looking totally disgusted.
I’m not quite sure what’s going on, but I know that Brian walking away from me isn’t right, although that’s what’s happening. What the hell?
“I’m not taking you to the back room.” I can see Brian swallow hard and I’m unable to read his eyes. He takes another step away and studies me carefully. Then he says softly, “Fuck you.” If I didn’t see his lips form the words, I would never have heard it. He shakes his head and walks away, leaving me on the dance floor, with a hard-on like I’ve never had and a million questions wracking my brain.
Chapter Ten
Brian’s POV
Jesus Christ. This is why I don’t do this shit. It gets too confusing. And someone always gets hurt.
Not that I’m hurt or anything.
It’s just, that’s what happens.
You know, he could’ve saved both of us time and energy, but what he did just now was ridiculous.
I try not to think about how hot that kiss was, how warm his body was, the way he trembled under my hands, because I’m not about to give him the satisfaction of knowing that... Well, just of knowing.
It’s never been very hard for me to hide my emotions. But to ignore them, that’s not quite as simple. And right now, above all else, above anger and embarrassment, I feel betrayed. Betrayed by Justin, of course, for making me feel like a silly little faggot, if only for a moment. But mainly, betrayed by Michael and Daphne, who insisted that I was making the right decision by letting Justin into my life.
And if I’m completely honest with myself, into my heart. Even just a little. Even for only a moment.
There’s a chance it could have gone a lot further than it did.
“Brian!” I hear Justin cry from behind me. I should have known he’d come after me. There’s no get out of jail free card.
If anything, Justin’s one determined mother fucker.
He follows me off the dance floor and wraps his hands around my arm, trying to pull me to a stop, but I shake him off. “Brian. Please,” he almost whimpers.
He reaches for me again and I turn around to face him. “Fuck. You,” I repeat. “And you know what? Fuck off.”
“I will, okay? But first let me--”
“Good.” I make a movement, as if to turn away from him, but he stops me again.
“First let me explain--”
“There’s nothing to explain. I’m not naive. I’m not some teenager with a crush or anything, okay? I get it.”
“But...” Justin trails off. His face scrunches up as if he’s thinking. I glare at him, tapping my foot impatiently. I shouldn’t even be standing here, waiting for him to finish his sentence. I should already be out that door and he should already be out of my life. “Then just tell me what I did wrong,” he demands.
“You didn’t do anything wrong--”
“But--”
“I was just stupid enough to think... God. I don’t know. But this is not what I expected.” This time I successfully move out of his reach and head for the door.
“So, that’s it?” he yells after me. I guess there’s no way I’m going to get out of this without a fight. We’re quickly gaining attention as bored club-goers stop to watch.
“Yep.”
“But...” He gestures to the dance floor. “But what was that?”
That was you, making a slight fool out of me.
“A good time?” I sneer.
Justin shakes his head defiantly. “No. That was more.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way.” Why is he pushing this?
“I’m sorry you’re being a fucking asshole.”
I’m being a fucking asshole? I try to control my anger by taking deep breaths. In. Then out. There are a couple ways I can get out of this. I take the easiest route. “That’s who I am, Justin,” I practically spit out his name. “Anyone here can tell you that. Any of our friends can tell you that.”
“So, I’m wasting my time?”
I shrug because I don’t really get where he’s going with this.
“But--”
Justin’s making me seriously angry. I storm over to him and stare directly into his eyes. He flinches. “You didn’t have to play all those games.” I watch as the blood drains out of his face. He shivers slightly, but as a result of what, I’m not sure. My voice is dangerously low when I say, “If you wanted me to fuck you, we could’ve done that on the plane. You wasted my time. Our time.”
“I didn’t--”
“Yes, you did, Justin. And on top of all that, you made me feel like a fool. I don’t appreciate that. So, do me a favor and fuck off.”
Since I’ve known Justin, he’s done some strange things, but I usually understand where he’s coming from. What he does next, however, throws me.
He starts to sob. Uncontrollably.
It makes me want to scream. God, what a cliché this has become: crying on the dance floor.
It’s borderline depressing the way Justin seems so despondent. He beings to sputter nonsense. “Daphne w-would say no man is worth this, but I thought... No, I still think you’re worth the fight. J-just one more time.”
“What?”
“Why’d you meet me here if you don’t want to be with me?” He asks, his voice high and desperate.
I tilt my head and just stare at him. “What are you talking about? Why did you put me through all that if all you wanted was a fuck?”
I watch as Justin visibly calms down. His sobs start to recede and he’s no longer on the verge of hyperventilation. “You don’t understand.” He’s stopped crying, although his face is blotchy and red. “I didn’t think it would be such a big deal. But, well... I obviously made the wrong decision when I offered the back room. I was just trying to make it easier. You just don’t understand.”
Maybe if I grab his shoulders and shake him, he’d start making some sense. “You’re right. I don’t understand.”
Justin’s lips stretch into a blinding smile. How obnoxious. “Well, I do. I get it. Wow, I’m on a roll.” I must look utterly confused because that’s how I feel. “I don’t just want you for a fuck, Brian.”
My face becomes, hopefully, devoid of any obvious emotion; a skill I know I’ve perfected.
“Yeah, I want you. I want you to fuck me. Of course. But, that’s not all I want, Brian. Not at all.”
“But--”
“I suggested the back room because I didn’t want to scare you off. I mean, it’s kind of neutral territory, right?”
“But--”
“I want to be with you. I... I like you. More than I’ve ever liked any guy. I like you, Brian.”
I raise my eyebrows , then huff and look away from him. That smug look he’s got on his face only increases as he watches me slowly comprehend what he’s telling me.
“I didn’t know you were such a drama queen, Brian.”
“I’m not a drama queen, I just...”
“Queened out?”
That brings a genuine smile to my face and once again, Justin starts to cry. God. “Now who’s being a drama queen?”
“Fuck off.” He uses my line from earlier tonight.
“Only if you come with me.” I just blurt that out. But, I don’t want to take anymore chances. Before we have another meltdown, and before we become the juiciest gossip on Liberty Avenue, I want to take him home.
“Where?”
“How about my loft?”
“Mm. Yes, please.”
So, I guess Daphne and Mikey were right. I should apologize for mentally damning them to the lowest level of hell. Even though I don’t do apologies. But, I guess Michael was right about that too. And really, above all else, I hate hypocrites. Hypocrites and liars. If I deny what’s about to happen, then I’ll be both.
Justin smiles that sweet, nervous smile he gave me when we first met on the airplane. Fuck. I have no clue what I’m doing, but then he leans up to kiss me softly. I get the feeling he’ll give me an eager helping hand.
Chapter Eleven
Justin’s POV
I have the post-coital nerves--the kind that make me silent and afraid to touch him again. So instead, I stare up at the ceiling, pretending to be more interested in it than I really am. Brian shifts over, flipping a switch near his side of the bed, and these awesome blue lights shine down on us.
“Pretty,” I say, enthralled.
“You’re pretty,” Brian emphasizes and I snort.
Man, I can be so charming.
“So....” Brian pauses for a moment. This is a little silly. I mean, we’ve just fucked. He was inside of me. I really shouldn’t be so scared. “Now what?” I know I must be imagining the slight blush forming on his cheeks.
I reach out tentatively and brush a damp hair off his forehead. “What do you mean? What do you normally do?”
“Normally?” He takes in a quick breath and then sighs. “Well, in all honesty, I kick my trick out, change the sheets, and take a shower.”
“Okay... You want me to help you change the sheets or leave or something?” I say this partly joking, but it’s not really funny so it comes out flat.
Brian’s body jerks around to face me.
Yeah, I’m fairly certain Brian’s blushing. “Uh...” He seems to be at a loss for words. “Oh. Uh, are you trying to make it easier for me again?”
I grin and nod.
“Ah. Well, uh, stop doing that. It’s confusing me. And sort of... Never mind.”
“Sort of what?” I urge him.
“It’s sort of making me nervous.”
“I know.” After he raises his eyebrow for an explanation, I say, “You’re blushing.”
His eyes narrow and he flips me off. I just shake me head, giving him a crooked smile. I’m slowly realizing that we’re participating in what some romantics have affectionately coined as pillow talk. Brian’s pretty good at it, too. And it’s effectively making me less nervous.
“What?” He asks when I being to giggle.
“I can’t tell you.”
“So, you’ll laugh at me, but you won’t tell me why? That’s pretty mean.”
I push on his shoulder a little so that he rolls over. “Fuck off.” He’s so fucking warm. I remember that warmth covering my entire body not half and hour ago and I begin to blush.
“Now you’re blushing,” he comments, making me turn even redder. “Why?”
“Just thinking.”
“About?”
“Oh. Uh, you know. This and that.”
He reaches for my cock, which, from the way I feel it begin to stir, is going to be up for another round sooner than I expected. “This?” He asks, petting the head for a moment. Sticking his tongue effectively in his cheek, he moves his hand around to my ass before asking, “Or that?”
“A little...” I trail off as his finger beings to send small sparks of excitement throughout my body. “A little bit of both, I guess.”
Brian wraps his arm around my back and pulls me on top of him. “You guess?” He asks with mock disdain in his voice. “You should be more decisive.” Raising his head, he kisses me lightly on the mouth.
As we pull away, I can’t help but lick my lips. Brian tastes much sweeter than I imagined he would. His mouth: warm, wet, and oh so inviting. “Mmm. You’re right. I guess I’ve always been more for ‘that’ than ‘this.’ Although, I’d never turn down a ‘this’ if offered...” I raise my eyebrows. “Were you offering?”
Brian has a sly little grin on his face. “If we’re talking about you topping me, then the answer is no.” Barking out a laugh at the pout I have on my face, Brian says, “I have a reputation to uphold. What do you think all the boys on Liberty Avenue would say if I got a boyfriend and became a sissy bottom boy all in one night?”
I become very still and extraordinarily quiet.
Did he say ‘boyfriend’?
Boyfriend? Brian wants to be my boyfriend? Or is he already my boyfriend? Because I have no problem with--hey! Not all bottoms are sissies. Asshole.
“Breathing is sort of essential, Justin,” Brian teases me.
I clear my throat and let out the air I didn’t even know I was holding in. “Not if my heart stops beating.”
“Now why would it do that?” He nearly purrs as he runs his hands over my naked arms.
I have to tread this carefully. Do not make a huge deal out of this. I wrack my brain and try to think of a response that won’t scare Brian away. At least I know for a fact that clapping my hands and letting out loud cheers of victory would not be the correct approach. Instead, I dip my head and let my tongue snake out to lick Brian’s mouth. “God, I could kiss you forever.”
“But that’s not kissing. That’s licking.” I can hear the challenge in his voice. I shift on his body so that I’m straddling his belly and then I pin his arms above his head.
I start the kiss slowly. It’s soft, gentle, and quick. Each time I pull away from his lips, I let my own linger a little longer on them until finally, our mouths open and I slide my tongue in. Brian lets me control the kiss.
“What would you call that?” I ask, pulling away from his mouth and gasping for breath. “Kissing? Or licking?”
“Shut the fuck up.” He grabs the back of my head and meets my lips halfway.
I really could kiss him for hours. I love when men explore my mouth, and Brian’s tongue does that masterfully. He traces my teeth and gums, lingering a bit on the molar I chipped when I was twelve. He tickles the top of my mouth, making me shiver. I slide my body further down his own until I can feel him, hot and hard, against my ass.
Yes, I think I’ll keep him.
His body shakes a little as we make contact, but then he pulls away from my mouth. “Lie down on your stomach,” he says, moving his arms from out of my weak grasp.
That’s not really what I had planned.
“I...”
“What?” He asks as he lifts his body to a sitting position. I shake my head and start to slide off him, but he stops me. “Tell me. If you have another idea, I want to know.”
“Well... I sort of wanted... To fuck like this. With me on top. Straddling you. Controlling the movements... I want you in... Deep...” Well, shit. That’s embarrassing.
He laughs and I can’t handle it. I move my hands to my face and try to hide. “Hey,” he says gently, trying to tug my hands away. “That sounds like a great idea. It’s just... You’re so... I don’t know. I wouldn’t have expected that from you, I guess.”
“So, what? You expected me to just lie there and take it?” I ask through my hands, more angry now than embarrassed. “Or is that what you want?” God, first night together and we’re already arguing.
“No. No. Neither. Jesus, Justin. You didn’t just ‘lie there and take it’ before. I certainly don’t expect you to do it this time. And no, that’s not what I want. I want you to ride me. I bet you can really control that lithe, hot little body of yours. And that tight ass...” Brian runs a hand down my crack again and I bite my lips, still hiding my face. “I love your tight ass.” He tugs on my hands again, and this time, I let them fall into my lap. Making sure I’m watching his every movement, Brian brings a couple fingers to his mouth and then seeks out my ass once more. Fuck. I shift a little, pushing down on his hand. “If you want to ride me now, I’m all for it. Obviously,” he laughs. “But... There’s something I want to do that we didn’t do before.”
The way his fingers are manipulating my body makes me care less about which situation we fuck in, as long as we do it soon. “W-what’s that?”
“Have you ever been rimmed?”
Okay, fucking can wait.
“No,” I answer. Which is true. I haven’t. I have rimmed other people on occasion, though.
He pulls out and etches his hand across my ass, his fingers only slightly dipping into the crack. “Do you know what it is?”
I let out a laugh. “I’m a fag, Brian. Of course I know what rimming is.”
“Can I rim you?”
I swallow hard and my cock twitches as I nod my head. “Yes. God.” My voice cracks. “Yes.”
We change positions so that I’m lying on my stomach. He stretches his body out and pushes his face in front of my ass. Brian’s lips curl into a savage grin against my ass as he parts my cheeks. I hear his breath hitch and then, ever so slowly, Brian leans forward. Starting at the top of my crack, he moves down with tiny kisses, but skips over the entrance. My hands squeeze the pillow in anticipation and my heart pounds in my chest. For a moment, that’s all I feel. But then something exciting runs throughout my body and I feel... God, I feel wonderful.
It’s a subtle feeling, but so concentrated on that sensitive part of my body. A tingling begins at the base of my spine as Brian’s tongue hardens and presses inside, demanding admittance.
I let out a small “oh,” and then Brian’s inside me. Not deep--he can’t go that deep--but just enough to make me feel so fucking good. “God,” I whisper. “God.”
My legs being to shake as Brian’s movements become more fierce. I sigh this deep, guttural noise when one of his hands cups my balls. I can feel his cock twitch against my leg, kissing it with trails of pre-come.
“Don’t stop,” I nearly whine as he slowly begins to withdraw.
“I thought you wanted a ride.”
Oh, yeah. That. I nod my head vigorously.
He turns me over and licks his lips. “You taste so fucking good,” he tells me and I totally have to blush at that. I mean, who says that? “Here,” he leans over my face. “Taste yourself.”
We kiss gently, until Brian forces his tongue into my mouth. “See?”
I nod again, my breath’s becoming erratic and my cock’s pretty fucking hard again. “I want to ride you.” I rest my tongue on my lower lip and bite down. For some reason, I really want to do that. Brian reaches over me and grabs a condom and some lube. I hold out my hand. “Not a lot,” I say. He gives me a confused look. “I’m still open from before. Still a little slick, you know? And... I kind of like it... Dry...”
Picking up the condom, he hands it to me. “Want to put it on me?” To say that his voice sounds sexy doesn’t really do it justice, but that’s exactly how it sounds--sexy. Husky and an octave lower than normal. My blood flows a little quicker when I remind myself it’s because of me that he sounds that way; that I’m the one making his cock so hard.
And then I remember the boyfriend comment.
Yep. I was right. They were all right. He wants me. Life is fucking good.
I take the condom from him and sit up. I can feel Brian’s blood flowing, beating inside him. I stroke up and down, reveling in his soft moans of pleasure. With a huge smile, I run my finger up the large vein, stopping at the head. Brian allows me only a few moments to play before he grabs my wrist.
“Do you want me to come now or while you’re on top of me?” He teases, motioning to the condom, which I open hastily and roll on him.
He settles down on the bed. “Let’s see what you can do.”
I throw him a feral grin as I crawl up and settle astride his body. Grasping my ass firmly in his hands and then spreading the cheeks, Brian helps me maneuver on top of him. “God,” he moans. “You’re still so fucking tight.”
We make it past that initial barrier. It’s still a little bit painful, even though I’ve been prepared, even though he’s working hard to make sure it’s minimal. You know: brushing a hand comfortingly across my belly, making sure I don’t move to quickly, whispering words of encouragement--all of which is necessary when you’re fucking someone in the ass. I sincerely appreciate his tenderness, but damn it, I want it now. I push down and he’s all the way in. Ah, yes. As we wait for me to adjust, I’m clearly reminded of what being filled to the hilt means.
He gasps when I try to pull him in deeper. “More. I want more,” I demand, pushing myself down harder. We begin to move in a frantic pace. My cries and his grunts echo throughout the loft. It’s a very hot orchestration, I must admit.
“Brian,” I can hardly form a sentence. “I w-wanna come, Brian.”
“Fuck,” he moans. “Say it again.”
What? I look at him oddly, small whimpers coming from my throat as my legs break out in sweat from the workout they’re receiving.
“Say my name, Justin,” he reiterates, lifting his hips as best he can. That added pressure and the angle we’re at hits me so perfectly that I scream. God, I fucking scream.
I scream his name, my body shaking, fingers gripping Brian’s arm in a deadly vice.
“That’s it,” Brian laughs, ignoring the pain in his arms. His laughter turns into a loud moan as I squeeze around him and move in small circles. Removing an arm from my waist, Brian takes my cock into his hand and starts stroking it.
I can feel him inside every part of me: my fingers, my belly, my feet, my mind. Everywhere.
My balls shoot into my body and I come, covering him in my semen. Brian moans loudly and follows quickly. His body stiffens and then shakes as he empties himself into the condom. “Fuck.”
I collapse on top of him; the force draws a quick breath out of him. “Jesus, I’m sorry,” I apologize and am about to pull off when he stops me.
“No. You can stay.”
Smiling, I wrap my arms around him and push down again. We stay like that for a moment, coming down from our high. But my body is trying to expel him and we have no choice. Gripping the base of the condom, I lift off of him, sighing.
“So,” I say after we lay in that silence again. “Are you really my boyfriend?”
“Do you want me to be?” Brian asks, turning around to face me.
I nod. “Yeah. Definitely.”
“Okay then.”
“So... Can I be your boyfriend?”
Brian laughs, shaking his head. “Doesn’t it kind of work that way?”
“Well, you don’t really do boyfriends--”
Brian interrupts me with a sigh. “Michael says I don’t do a lot of things. And he’s right, you know? So, forget about it...” He pauses, then glances at me nervously. “But, I’m not really romantic,” he explains. “I don’t really like romance. Or domesticity. Or monogamy. I mean, that part of me is real...”
“I don’t want to change you. I didn’t fall in love with you because of who you aren’t.”
“Love?” I swear to God, Brian looks like he’s about to run away.
“Well, yeah. I’m at that point where I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you. I can wait for you to figure out how you feel about me, so don’t worry about saying it back or anything. In fact, I’d be kind of disappointed if you said it right away. It wouldn’t be you. I expect it to be just as hard to get you to admit you love me as it was to get you to admit you want me.”
Brian rolls his eyes and chuckles. “You’re not going to make any of this easy for me, huh?”
“You said not to. Besides, I know what a drama queen you are. I doubt you’d make it any easier for me.”
“True,” he nods, then slides over next to me. “So, let me ask again?”
“What?”
“What are we going to do now?”
“Well,” I turn to my side and let Brian spoon up against me. His stomach is cold and wet. I’d forgotten... I made him all wet and sticky. “Ew,” I complain. “That’s gross.”
“Hey, this shot out of your body.”
“Not really comfortable, is it?”
“Nope. Now you know how I feel, being used as a loading dock for your come.”
I laugh for what seems like the hundredth time today.
“Well... You said no to changing the sheets... How about a shower?”
“Now?” He pulls me closer to him. “I’m sort of comfortable. Or rather, comfortable making you uncomfortable.”
“So, then, what’s left? Didn’t you say you kick your trick out?” I swallow, even though I know he won’t. I am his boyfriend, after all. That thought makes me smile. Brian and Justin sitting in a tree...
“Please,” Brian scoffs, but tightens his grip around me. “Like that’s even an option.”
I knew it.
“I can feel you smiling against my arm, what’s up?”
“I’m just happy.”
Snorting a little, Brian pushes me down so that I can look at him. “Is this where I’m supposed to bust out the ring and tell you how much I wub you?” The sarcasm is dripping off his voice.
Damn, even being a prick, he’s hot.
But two can play at this game. “No. No. Of course not. That comes later.” I lean in to kiss him. “I like platinum, by the way.”
For a split second, Brian looks horrified, then his face breaks out in a gigantically uncharacteristic grin. “You almost had me there.”
“I’ve had you since the flight.”
“You seem pretty sure of yourself.”
“I am... I want you to kiss me.”
“Bossy bottom.”
“I hear that’s how you like them.”
Brian shakes his head. “I’m going to kill Michael.”
“Nah. He’s a good friend.” Brian nods in agreement, then rolls on top of me, running his fingers through my hair. “That’s kind of gross,” I complain, moving my head away from his hands.
“What?”
I cringe jokingly and say in my most scandalized voice, “You had those hands up my ass. Now you’re putting them in my hair. Nasty.”
Brian laughs and reaches down to twist my nipple. “Come on, little boy. Let’s shower.”
“Then you can play with my hair all you want,” I agree, sliding out from under him, heading toward his bathroom.
“Oh can I? You’re so fucking generous.”
“You don’t know how generous I can be.”
He gets up to follow me.
I put an extra zing into my walk, knowing for sure that this time, he’s watching.
END.